What Will They Say About You?

BY: Michael A. Aun, CSP, CPAE Speaker Hall of Fame

My 93-year old high school football coach, James Wyman Ingram, phoned me recently to ask me if I would do the eulogy at his funeral.

An articulate man who looked more like a college professor than a gridiron general, Coach James Wyman "Whiney" Ingram was, in his day, one of the top high school football coaches in all of America. His football teams at Lexington High School had won in excess of 220 games in his 33 years or autumn limelight, including three state championships. He was calling to ask me if I'd say goodbye for him at his funeral.

Those of us who were born and bred on southern high school football traditions have a special appreciation for John Grisham's novel Bleachers, a story about a former football standout's recollections about his former coach.

Playing high school football back in my hometown of Lexington, South Carolina was no different than every other small town across America. It was a right of passage. If you were a male and had an ounce of athletic ability, you were expected to play on Friday night. The movies "Friday Night Lights", "Remember The Titans" and others depicting this rich tradition in southern culture is not exaggerated in the least. It's as real as grits and gravy as a post-game meal.

When you arrive at the half century mark as so many of us have, you start to get more and more of these eulogy opportunities to celebrate the life of another who has moved on to his or her great reward. Last year alone, I had the opportunity to eulogize two friends.

"Coach, are you about to die?" I bluntly asked. "No," he responded but when I do, I want you to be the man who does my eulogy."

"Surely," I responded, "there must be dozens of guys you coached over the years who went on to become Priests, Rabbis or ministers. Why not choose one of them?"

The quick-witted Ingram said, "I've outlived them all. I'm down to motivational speakers, and you're the only one I know."

So I proceeded to sit down and write out my thoughts about Coach James Wyman "Whiney" Ingram.

In my life, I've held a number of jobs from bartender to jailer to Sports Editor of a weekly newspaper, to author, to columnist, all before becoming a businessman and professional speaker.

During my days as Sports Editor of the Lexington, South Carolina Dispatch News, I had the privilege of writing about Ingram's great teams. Not only did I play for him, I got to report on his gridiron exploits after I graduated. I actually won a Journalism Award for a four part series I wrote on him titled "Thirty Three Years Of Autumn Limelight," wherein I chronicled his accomplishment on those glorious Friday nights over some three decades. So coming up with something to say was factually a piece of cake.

I wrote it up and mailed it up to him in South Carolina from my home in Florida. He called me up and said he really appreciated it but politely added, "That's not good enough."

"What part didn't you like?" I asked. "I liked it all. I just want to hear it- not read it."

I responded, "You've got to be kidding me Coach!" His response was "No, I'm not kidding! I want to hear it."

So I sat down with a tape recorder and recorded the eulogy for the funeral of Coach James Wyman "Whiney" Ingram, and I dropped it in the mail. Several days later, he called me in tears, saying he could hardly wait to hear the real thing.

As I thought about the process of what I went through with Coach J.W. Ingram, it occurred to me that perhaps we should be planning our own eulogy. If you could have someone eulogize you, what would you want him or her to say about you? How would you want to be remembered? Would it be as a great speaker, a prolific author or a creative writer?

Perhaps if we answered those questions first, it would help better define whom we are and what we want to accomplish in this thing called life. When we're clear about what we want from this life, getting there is easier.