This story comes from a former runner/coach Darryl Taylor, Long Beach State, Pacific Coast Club, and 46 years track and cross country coach at Rancho Alamitos High School in Garden Grove, California. Though Darryl and I never had a face to face conversation, we've become acquainted over the years through this blog. We ran once against each other in a 2 mile relay in Albuquerque, NM in 1964 although I can't remember which leg I ran, so I can't really be sure if it was head to head. Darryl has contributed this story to which all old coaches and runners can easily relate. It's a universal story of teacher and student and demonstrates that we may never know until many years after how a little act of kindness can affect someone you know or even a perfect stranger. I'm certain many of you have had this kind of experience, but Darryl has given us the gift of putting it into words. After reading Darryl's story you may wish to hear Tom Randle sing and listen to an interview with him. I've placed the links below. George Brose
A Shoe Story
1969-2020
by Darryl Taylor
Sometimes a pair of shoes is more than a pair of shoes. Many times, perhaps, a pair of shoes has a story to tell. I'm betting there are quite a few "SHOE STORIES" out there. And I have a pair of shoes in my possession with a story to tell. A story that is some 46 long years in the making. For anyone who has had the unique privilege of coaching young aspiring distance runners, you know how rewarding the experience is and how far beyond your coaching years those rewards can extend. I coached at Rancho Alamitos High School in Garden Grove, California for 46 years, beginning in September, 1965 and ending in June, 2011. It was always my intent to pay back what my own high school coach gave me. A purpose in life, a path to follow that has influenced me every day since I was blessed to be assigned to his 6th period PE class in the first week of my freshman year 1955 at Excelsior High School in Norwalk, California. There are no words I can use to fully explain his impact in my daily life these 65 years later. It would be a very rare day indeed that passes without thoughts of running, racing, training or coaching fail to cross my mind. An easy 3 mile walk/jog work-out on this cool Huntington Beach morning is simply one example of that. I hope Coach Jack Newman, now 10 years gone from us, would be proud of the work that I have done after all these years.
JANUARY 17, 1969: this particular SHOE STORY began at the Los Angeles Sports Arena on the night of January 17, 1969 where I had been invited to compete in the 1,000 yard event of the LA Invitational indoor meet. Although my focus over the previous four years was slowly but inevitably turning from competing to coaching, I had put in a reasonable amount of training in preparation for what would turn out to me my final year of competition for the recently formed PACIFIC COAST CLUB. During November and December preceding this indoor meet I had a 4:12 mile under my belt in a time trial at LACC, a life-time best 2-man 10 Mile Relay where John Lawson and combined for a PCC record 42:55.6, Lawson clocking a 63.9 average while my contribution was 64.9. A quick Christmas vacation flight to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, produced a 1:55.7 to anchor our 2MILE RELAY to 2nd place after Leon Webster, George Scott and Dave Perry did their part. With this background in the books I felt ready to attack my life time best for 1,000 yards of 2:10.8 in the middle of this January 1969. Just three weeks short of my 28th birthday, I knew I was a bit long in the tooth for this race.
As I dressed and prepared for my warm up, Tom Jennings, the PCC's coach and Director, pulled me aside and handed me a new pair of PUMA track shoes with four replaceable spikes each. Included in the box was a set of 1/8 inch indoor spikes along with a PUMA branded spike key, a git from the Puma representative in their ongoing struggle to compete with their rival Adidas for world dominance in the lucrative running shoe business. After a good warmup, I took the starting ling side by side with the recent Mexico City Olympic Champ Ralph Doubell, Oregon sensation Wade Bell and team mate Dave Perry. Within the first few laps I could tell that this was not going to be a good night of racing, brand new shoes or not. In the end I ran what I considered the saddest race of my indoor career. After a sluggish 1:57.9 half mile I struggled to the finish line in last place at 2:16.8, my only redeeming achievement was NOT being lapped by Ralph Doubell's 2:07.0 victory, the fourth fastest 1,000 ever recorded Indoors. Wade Bell was also a victim in 2nd place at 2:11.6. At that moment, for the first time ever, I considered making this my final race in a team uniform rather than embarrassing myself and the team with such underwhelming performances. Jennings then talked me into traveling to Albuquerque, NM and a chance to redeem myself before putting those shoes on a shelf in the garage for good. Lacing up those still new Puma's in the thin air of 5,000 foot high Albuquerque, I contributed a much improved 1:55.2 second leg to a winning 7:37.7 effort with teammates Leon Webster - 1:54.8, John Perry - 1:54.2, and Tom Von Ruden's - 1:53.5 anchor. A return to the San Diego Indoor Meet for a 2:14 at 1,000 yards and those deep blue Pumas were put back in the box on the shelf. With my training diary now consumed with the exploits of the young runners under my charge, I never expected to see them touching the track again in serious competition. Having a personal deep love of running and training, it was my goal to never ask my team to do a workout that I wasn't willing to take on myself. Ten mile runs, sets of 20x440 on Mondays, 35-40 220s on the grass and a variety of hill work-outs and runs on the beach now occupied m days with my growing team of distance runners. Instead of gearing up for a race against world class runners, the focus switched to winning cross-country titles and individual distance events on the track under the stadium lights of Bolsa Grande High School.
Close to a full year later, the following December, Cal State Fullerton hosted a series of All-Comers meets and I loaded up my VW van and took a large group of kids to compete in the three mile event. On a whim I dusted off those near new Pumas and decided to run the first two miles of their 3-miler. I surprised myself with a 9:47.5 clocking while three of my guys ran 15:30 in their 12 lap event. A week later I entered the Mile and surprised myself again with at 4:26.0 effort while my recently graduated runner Tom Baird clipped off a 4:16.5 in the fast heat of the mile. I guess word of that 4:26 effort got around to Tom Jennings and he pushed me to take part in the PCCs Time Trial for selecting a team for the 2-Mile Relay over Christmas Vacation in Saskatoon. What???? At nearly 29 years of age, I was stretching it for a middle distance runner that long, long time ago.
So once again the Pumas came off the shelf, and although a few battle scars now were evident, they still had the fresh look of new shoes. Amazingly, in a field of 20 runners, I held back in the first 440, running in 15th place at 58.0. For some unexplained reason over the next 220 yards I felt very light as I slowly started passing runners in bunches. I found myself in 5th at the 770 on the shoulder of Randy Johnson and I followed him to the finish line where he grabbed 2nd in 1:55.9 while I tied for 3rd in 1:56.0 and earned a trip to Canada the next week. Catching a serious case of the flu in the middle of the next week cost me that trip and one more shot at running indoors. As the years went by I realized that my "background" of training provided that spark.
JULY 17th, 1974 : So, in those dark blue PUMA shoes represented my 34th and final indoor race, my final contribution in a 2-Mile Relay, my best ever 20x440 average in a 10 Mile Relay, my final 880 under 1:56 and my 150th life-time race under 2:00 dating back to my Junior year in high school in 1958. I would find the time and opportunity to run several more sub 2:00 races in summer meets while training with my high school team. I would loan those PUMAS out to my runners who could not afford track shoes or forgot to bring them to races. And then, in the summer of 1974 they were lost forever. I took my team to Gardena High School in the summer of 1974 and after winning the Masters 880 in 2:02.4 that night, one of my hard working sophomores, Tom Randle, asked if he could borrow my shoes for his race at 1320 yards. It was a common practice for me to have extra shoes, singlets, and trunks in my equipment bag for that very purpose. After his race, he took the PUMAS off, changed into his flats and did a good warm-down. When he returned to pick up my shoes they were gone. Stolen. Pinched. Hijacked. Ripped Off. Snagged. Purloined, Hefted. Swiped. Robbed. Thieved. Sacked. Pillaged, Looted. Pilfered! Never to be seen again. It was more than obvious that Tom felt terrible about those shoes as it was a regular routine of mine to relate the significance of the shoes with their history in my racing career when loaning them out to my runners, an attempt to inspire a good performance. At the same time, with my own racing career fading into the distance as the years passed, I told him that it was no big deal and that I had other shoes to loan out and that he should not worry about it again. With that little exchange between Tom and me, I forgot about the shoes and only recalled them when looking back at my training/racing diaries or watching the 8mm movie my Dad took from from the stands that night.
JANUARY 23rd, 2020: After the passing of some 46 years to Thursday, January 23rd 2020, I stepped out of my front door to find a package sitting on my doorstep. In an E-mail just after the new year, Tom Randle had asked for my address as he had something he wanted to send me and it was something he figured I would surely like. I thought it might be an article regarding rumors of the return to the Olympic stage by Great Britain's multiple Gold Medalist, Mo Farrah or other rumors about David Rudhisha's attempting another comeback to racing. Perhaps he would inform me of a local performance by Tom Randle the virtuoso opera star himself who was setting the Opera world on fire with his tenor performances, directing and writing prowess.
I could tell immediately that the well wrapped package held the shape of a shoe box, with postage and routing stamps that made it obvious it originated from London in the United Kingdom. Knowing that Tom was following in Ralph Serna's tracks with a growing running shoe collection, I thought perhaps he had found a pair of shoes that would inspired me to get back into running beyond the easy 3 miles every other day I was currently producing, at a sluggish jog/run 11/12 minute per mile pace. Upon opening the packaging, there was a note stating that I should read the enclosed letter before lifting the lid to inspect the contents that rested inside. That letter recalled that all-comers meet from 46 years ago, a portion of which follows:
What I do remember clearly about that night 46 years ago is that on a few occasions (due to my chronic lack of money) I didn't own a pair of spikes in which to race. I often relied on the good graces of team mates to lend me theirs, Jack Martinez usually, while I worked as many odd jobs as I possibly could to save up for a pair of my own. But I also remember you loaning me ours on several occasions, and I always made sure to return them in really top condition-cleaned, brushed, scrubbed and detailed. I'm pretty sure I ran the 1320 and might have even set my best time in the race, which might explain why I was so distracted afterwards. On that night you again lent me your spikes-a pair that you'd grown very fond of and and much success in-and I was proud to lace them on. However, I did something very careless and managed to lose them. To be fair, I took my eye off them for a moment and someone actually stole them, but nevertheless, the fault was mine and the damage was done.
I was (and still am) rightly mortified at my carelessness that night and still remember clearly how terrible I felt at having to tell you. In typical 'good old coach' fashion you told me not to worry and to forget about it. I could tell, however, that you were disappointed at losing something that represented a very personal part of your athletic history.
Well, 46 years later I think I have finally managed to track down the same pair. Anyhow, Coach, I am confident that I've fount the exact pair that you loaned me and which I carelessly lost. Same color, model and -get this- the same size! It took me a long time and I had several close calls but none were quite right. At the very least, these were produced in the same era. In any case Coach, I hope you can accept this little gift and my apologies. Not only are these shoes brand new/straight from the factory, but you're safe in the knowledge that you won't ever have to lend them to me!
Thanks so much for everything Coach-you were, and and continue to be a huge inspiration for me and every Vaquero who had the honor of your coaching and guidance! W/Love & Respect Tom
I am quite sure that coaches around the country will not find this particularly unusual, having themselves experienced similar events from former athletes. To me, it is another expression of the joys and rewards that made my 46 year coaching career a wonder and a satisfying delight. Yes, we were given a small stipend at the end of each season, usually enough to help afford a Utah ski trip in the winter or a week in Lake Tahoe in the summer. Those provided wonderful family memories for sure that still provide conversations at family gatherings. But to open our front door and find a package that has traveled 46 years in the making is a reward that I cannot put a price on.
Thank You Tom Randle in my heart forever!
Coach Taylor
Tom Randle XC 1975
For those of you interested by this article to know more about Tom Randle, here are two video clips of Tom. One is singing an aria " Forte e lieto a morte andrei" and the second is an interview with him after a rehearsal of another opera,
Interview with Tom Randle link after rehearsal of opera Jenufa
An interview with Darryl in 2016 on our blog
Darryl Taylor back on the boards with Greg Pelster and John Bork
Great story.
As another old runner/coach, this brings back memories. As he makes clear at the end, one doesn't coach for a long time 46 years in his case, 36 in mine, for the minor stipend. As I used to say at post-season team banquets, I loved it that the kids, the team, did well, especially at State. But that was only one day a year - well, two (XC and Track). If you didn't genuinely look forward to being with the kids virtually every other day, you would never stay at it so long. Geoff Pietsch, Florida
Good one. I’m a connoisseur of fine running shoes ( plus having very bad feet) so I appreciated this one. Mike Waters, Corvallis, OR
Thanks George,
Truly uplifting!
(But, perhaps Only for track guys!)
John Bork
PS I have my NCAA shoes hanging next to my bed!! (A pair of 9.9s) California
What a fine story and what a memory or sense of guilt Tom Randle had. Human nature does tend to be good, especially in running circles. Bill Schnier Cincinnati, OH
Over the years there have been some accounts about Cliff Severn who advertised as the Adidas Rep a lot in the early issues of Track and Field News. My shoe story involves Cliff and one of the big Los Angeles Indoor Meets. I was about to step out onto the track and head down to the start of the 1000 yard event when Cliff came rushing up to me and said " hey Ernie can you give these shoes to Jim Grelle". With my mind deeply in thought about the race and how I would run (from the front of course) and try and hold off Grelle's kick I looked at the shoes and snapped at Cliff and told him they weren't my size (13 or 14) and he could look Jim up after the race and give them to him directly and not use me as the delivery boy. I always wore Adidas indoor shoes for my races and either bought them myself or got them through Stanford University and had never gotten a free pair from Cliff. After my outburst I knew that I never would get a free pair after that even though I won the race that night . Ernie Cunliffe, Colorado Springs
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