Jack Roberts, on Tom Rashid: One More Call
By
John E. (Jack) Roberts
MHSAA Executive Director, 1986-2018
December 9, 2021
More than a decade ago, with his knowledge, I placed in my “Will & Instructions Upon Death” that Tom Rashid was to be the one and only person to speak at my funeral or memorial service. A short number of years later, Tom told me that I was to do the same for him. Obviously, we knew that we could not both keep our promise to the other. But I must say, if Tom does not actually show up for my funeral, that will be the first time he has not kept a promise to me.
I understand there will be a time in the future, when the weather warms and COVID wanes, when school administrators across Michigan can gather in force to show their respects to Tom, and when I will provide the eulogy that Tom asked of me. But Tom’s recent death reminds us how uncertain life can be and suggests that I say some things now, before it’s too late.
Tom was the unparalleled master of award presentations; and for more than a dozen years he wrote and delivered polished praise on award recipients at the annual conference of the Michigan Interscholastic Athletic Administrators Association. My tribute now isn’t an awards presentation or hall-of-fame induction, so I won’t recount the particulars of Tom’s career; but what you will see here is the importance of Tom’s life … the themes that distinguish him from any other person I’ve known.
Tom comes from a large, complicated and compassionate family of parents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces who mourn his loss at levels few of us can fathom. Over the years, and for many years, he was the caretaker for several family members; and he was generous with all of them. My hope for each family member now – and for many days, weeks and months to come – is that you are at peace. Tom’s pain is over; and his place in eternity is secure. Tom purchased a reserved seat.
Tom often joked that his only good habit was prayer. That’s not really true, of course. But for as long as I’ve known Tom, he talked to God many times a day; and I’ve always had the feeling that he talked to God the same way he talked to us: bluntly, forcefully, passionately, honestly, loudly, making very plain what he had on his mind.
Tom was a rigorous practitioner of his devout Catholic faith; and, the God whom Tom believed in is a big God … the president, general manager and head coach of a huge, diverse team whose game plan is a large, loving Gospel of limitless parameters and possibilities. I have no doubt that, both in times of need and not, members of the Roberts family – including both my parents, my sister, my wife and our children and grandchildren – have been specific in his petitions to God. I have no doubt that Tom’s daily prayers included many of you, and your loved ones as well.
In addition to Tom’s immediate family is the even larger and even more complicated family Tom developed through a long, illustrious career in Michigan school sports administration: a full 25 years with the Archdiocese of Detroit, until 2003, when I invited him to join me at the MHSAA office in East Lansing.
During my 32 years as the executive director of the MHSAA, I never saw another like Tom … never, anywhere. He talked to anybody, anytime of the day or night, about any question or problem they might have. Usually, Tom didn’t need to give me notes reviewing his telephone conversations. From my adjacent office, and given his forceful voice, I could hear Tom’s every word, very clearly.
Tom had the ability to anticipate what I might need and take care of it without my asking. It is no exaggeration to say that Tom would do anything for me. For example, Tom’s reluctance to travel and his fear of flying are well known to many of you. I believe the one and only time that Tom flew in an airplane was in 2003, when I ordered him to fly to Texas so that he might receive the highest award of the National High School Coaches Association. He had never flown before; he has never flown since.
Most remarkable was not merely Tom’s unselfish, unlimited, legendary availability to athletic administrators at any hour of the day or night, nor his experienced, learned grasp of the subject matter in answering their calls. What was more remarkable was his effort to help school administrators through their hard times. On many occasions these callers had made an error of commission or omission. They had made a mistake or an oversight; and Tom was supremely compassionate in guiding them through the local fallout from disappointed athletes and disgruntled adults. Secure in himself and our mission to be servant-leaders, Tom very often shared or completely shouldered unjustified blame so others would not. He gave cover to countless local school administrators every year of his MHSAA career so that those administrators might survive and even thrive in their careers.
Among my remarkably loyal MHSAA staff, Tom still stands out. And he earned the enduring loyalty of those with whom he worked. I think especially of his successor at the Archdiocese of Detroit, Vic Michaels: I doubt that more than two days ever passed between their almost daily telephone conversations … usually in the morning … for the full 15 years that my office was next to Tom’s at the MHSAA. I have never, ever been witness to anything like that; and I know there is no one in our good work who misses our dear colleague more than Vic.
But most remarkable of all was Tom’s ability to turn an adversary into an ally. He could have a knock-down, drag-out argument with a person one day, and by the next day, and for years to come, that person was Tom’s greatest advocate and admirer.
Well … maybe second-greatest advocate and admirer. Because no one in athletic administration – no one – loved Tom more than I. And no one in our work told him this more than I did.
I have written often about my admiration and affection for Tom. I have spoken both publicly and privately of it, on many occasions. But let me say it one more time, here, as we celebrate his life, and mourn our loss …
Tom and I provide proof that opposites attract, and we tag-teamed MHSAA’s leadership. One of us was very outgoing and vocal, the other more reserved and reticent. One of us was loud, the other more subdued. One of us was more comfortable on the phone, the other with the pen. One of us had no idea what to do with apostrophes, while the other would put them in the correct places. One of us was more spontaneous and extemporaneous, the other a more detailed planner and measurer of consequences. One of us hated to travel, the other sent messages to him from distant oceans and continents every year on Christmas or New Year’s Day to thank him for his life and service. But in our hearts, where one’s core values are harbored, we were almost identical twins.
I doubt that any two people who were side-by-side in the workplace for 15 years expressed their gratitude for each other more than we did, nor any two co-workers who said “I love you” to one another as often as we did. We each felt in deep debt to the other for myriad gifts and gestures that improved our careers and our lives.
Over the years, Tom and I developed the strategy of making one more telephone call before we made a final decision in a difficult matter … making one more call that sometimes made a difference in the controversial decision we had to make or in how that decision was accepted by those it affected. Tom loved to be the one to make those calls. And, sometimes, that “one more call” made all the difference.
Throughout my adult life, whenever I’ve attended a funeral or memorial service, I’ve found myself asking what it is I should learn and try to emulate from the life of the deceased. If you should find your mind and heart doing anything like that now, may I suggest these two answers.
First, Tom’s life and death remind us that we should not delay a single day in telling those with whom we work that we appreciate them and are grateful for what they do. And, if it is true and you are able, say you love them. Tom did this more often than anyone I’ve known.
And the second message is this. Tom’s life stands for faithfulness … faithfulness to his God, faithfulness to his family, faithfulness to his colleagues and friends, and faithfulness to his work and the mission of not just amateur athletics, but particularly school-operated, educational athletics. His was a steadfast faithfulness, never-a-day-off faithfulness, you-come-first faithfulness.
So Tom, my dear friend, once again I say, “I love you.”
And, “Rest in peace, Tom. God knows, you rarely rested in life.”
I would give anything for just one more call.
'Larger-Than-Life' Pennfield AD Admired for Statewide Service
By
Pam Shebest
Special for MHSAA.com
April 14, 2021
BATTLE CREEK — To many Battle Creek sports enthusiasts, Bernie Larson was known as “Mr. Pennfield.”
But for two former athletes, twins Chris and Cam Larson, that was not the case.
“I never knew him or thought of him as Mr. Pennfield; he was Dad,” Chris said.
Larson, 78, who served as athletic director at Pennfield for 29 years, died March 14 after an extended illness.
A memorial service is being planned for May 15 at a time and place to be determined.
“A lot more remembrances come back when someone passes,” said Chris Larson, who lives in Virginia. “You hear so many stories from people who remember him, including former students and coaches.
“It’s great to hear the impact he had on so many people that you never knew about.”
Stories are plentiful when it comes to Bernie Larson.
“He was a heckuva golfer,” said Karen Leinaar, the current executive director of the Michigan Interscholastic Athletic Administrators Association (MIAAA) who during an early stop served as athletic director at Delton Kellogg, which with Pennfield for a time was part of the Kalamazoo Valley Association. “If you needed golf balls on the course, everyone said, ‘Just ask Bernie.’ He always had them.”
The reason?
“If he had one ball in his bag, he had 50 or 60 in his bag,” said Larry Wegener, former Battle Creek Central athletic director. “He had milk crates full of golf balls in his garage” that he found on the course or fished out of ponds.
Championship City
When Larson was named Pennfield’s athletic director in 1970, it became a family affair.
“I had no clue, no clue,” said Joni, Larson’s wife of 56 years. “We never trained to be wives of athletic directors. We learned the most from other wives.”
She became involved in the job, selling tickets at home games. When their sons were old enough, they helped out with the field.
“They knew where the flag was kept and how to play the national anthem. They learned how to keep score” and were active in playing sports, she recalled.
“Cam (who lives in Minnesota) played football, baseball and basketball,” Chris Larson said. “I played tennis, golf and basketball. We grew up playing little league baseball and football.”
One family favorite was the yearly athletic directors conference at Grand Traverse Resort.
“He was there for business; we kids were there for fun,” his son said. “As we got older, we went to the auditorium that was filled with booths with sports-related things.
“As a kid we went around and grabbed the swag. It was a kids of athletic directors thing.”
It was not all fun and games.
“Bernie Larson was instrumental putting Battle Creek on the map athletically,” Leinaar said. “Four of (the ADs), Bernie, Ralph Kenyon of Harper Creek, Glen Schulz of Lakeview and Larry Wegener of Central put on the tournaments and had crews of people every year right there helping.
“Their hard work and commitment to the MHSAA, running perfect tournaments, made Battle Creek a stop for athletics for many, many years. Many times, Bernie led the pack.”
In spite of his willingness to help others, there was a caveat, Leinaar said.
“He would say to me, ‘Karen, I’ll help you out however I can, but remember, Pennfield is going to win.’
“Pennfield joined the KVA in the late 1980s, so we saw each other quite a bit. Our football games were always barn burners as were track and field.”
Wegener recalls those days full of tournaments and 65-hour work weeks.
“We did so many MHSAA events, I think a lot of people thought we were on the staff,” he said.
Those tournaments included more than 50 state championships in baseball and softball, team and individual wrestling, volleyball and girls basketball.
Brett Steele, Pennfield’s current AD, said Larson “was still a strong presence in the athletic department and community as a whole even after he retired.
“Up until last winter, Bernie still helped out at football and basketball games as our officials host. He knew most of the officials in those sports and was a familiar face to many when they worked games at Pennfield.”
Larson had served as an MHSAA basketball and baseball official. He also helped found and is a member of the Pennfield Hall of Fame and coached both girls and boys golf.
He received the MHSAA’s Allen W. Bush Award in 1997, the MHSAA’s Charles Forsythe Award in 1999 and was the MIAAA State Athletic Director of the Year for 1991-92.
All About Family
In spite of the hours spent with his job, Larson was a good family man, Wegener said.
“He spoke highly of his kids,” he said. “Chris and Cam were the pride of his life. Joni was a real good fit for him.”
Wegener said Larson was a larger-than-life guy.
“If you were going to run a tournament and you brought a notebook full of stuff for your tournament, Bernie brought a briefcase.
“If you brought a briefcase, Bernie brought a suitcase. He just believed in being prepared for everything.”
One thing the athletic directors did a lot was frequent restaurants, and Larson had his favorites.
“Perkins whenever he traveled, the Pancake House every Sunday and the Irish Pub,” Chris Larson said.
A person could always spot Larson. He was with one with the napkin tucked over his shirt.
“He always wore a suit and tie and would use a napkin as a bib because he was always spilling something on his necktie,” Joni Larson said.
Another thing her husband was famous for was his jokes.
“He always had a favorite joke that I’d hear 27 times,” she said, laughing. “It was like he had a joke of the week, and everybody had to hear it.”
During summers, Larson taught driver’s education at the school, something Chris Larson remembers well.
“I remember on the last day of driver’s ed, you drove for 45 minutes,” he said. “My brother and I and one other kid were in the car, and I drove to Lansing to the MHSAA and we sat in the parking lot while my dad went inside.
“I know the MHSAA through his eyes and through my own eyes.”
Larson’s love of sports transferred to his sons.
“We all share a love of golf and would play together any chance we got, but over the past years his health wouldn't allow him to play,” Chris Larson said. “I miss that very much.”
Another tradition is being carried on by his son, but it evolved in an unusual way.
The twins were a Christmas surprise for Bernie and Joni.
“They didn’t do ultrasounds routinely back then (1974) so we didn’t know,” Joni Larson said. “We had Bernie’s middle name, Leon, picked out as a first name,” Joni Larson said.
“When we found out there were twins, we gave Chris ‘Leon’ as his middle name and Cameron ‘Noel’ which is Leon backwards, so both had dad’s middle name.”
Chris Larson has continued the tradition, giving his oldest son, Joshua, Leon as a middle name.
Chris Larson echoed the thoughts of many who knew Mr. Pennfield as a people person.
“In my opinion, he was the most Christian man I knew. He lived a Christian life and he shared it with others,” Chris said.
“He was chaplain for some baseball and basketball teams. He knew somebody everywhere no matter where we went in the state.”
Chris Larson paid a special tribute to his father after the funeral.
“He had a parking spot in the circle of the old Pennfield High School right in front of his office,” he said. “His van was there all the time.
“One of the things I did after the funeral was just hang out there for a while.”
Pam Shebest served as a sportswriter at the Kalamazoo Gazette from 1985-2009 after 11 years part-time with the Gazette while teaching French and English at White Pigeon High School. She can be reached at [email protected] with story ideas for Calhoun, Kalamazoo and Van Buren counties.
PHOTOS: (Top) Longtime Pennfield athletic director Bernie Larson also raised his family in the district, with sons Chris (left) and Cam among those to wear the uniform. (2) Bernie and Joni Larson were married 56 years. (3) Among Larson’s longtime colleagues were former Delton Kellogg athletic director Karen Leinaar and retired Battle Creek Central athletic director Larry Wegener. (4) The Larson family, more recently, from left: Cam, Joni, Bernie and Chris. (Family photos courtesy of the Larson family; head shots by Pam Shebest.)