Ernie also shined off the field

Stories abound of his exemplary character and humility.

Provided by Chemung County Historical Society, Elmira Ernie Davis looks over newspaper clippings at Syracuse University. He was the subject of many articles, but friends say he never let the attention change him.

It's not the great things people say about Ernie Davis that are so impressive. It's what they DON'T say.

They don't say anything bad. Nothing. Nada.

In the interviews, newspaper clips, books and stories about Davis, no one speaks badly of him.

That's testament to Ernie Davis, the person. He was, by all accounts, a flawless and wonderful human being. But today, 40 years after he made history as the first black player to win the Heisman Trophy, his personal character is sometimes overshawdowed by his athletic accomplishments.

"I've never heard anybody say anything bad about Ernie Davis, because I just don't think there is anything bad to say," said his friend, Jack Moore, an Elmira lawyer who played high school basketball with Davis at Elmira Free Academy. "He was an absolutely incredible person.

"I feel that if you knew Ernie as a person, you would talk about him as a person. But if you didn't know him, you would talk about him as an athlete."

Although Davis set a locker room full of high school and college sports records, he never was cocky or arrogant, according to those who knew him. He accepted his awards, praise and media attention with grace and poise.

"He had celebrity status, even early in life, and it never fazed him," said Floyd Winston F. Coleman Jr., a childhood and neighborhood friend of Davis. "He never took advantage of his celebrity status."

At age 11, Davis moved to Elmira from Uniontown, Pa. He lived in a house across the street from the high school, with his mother and stepfather. He never knew his real father, who was killed in an accident when Davis was 14 months old. At first, Davis and his mother lived with her parents, who had 12 kids, in Uniontown, according to his biography, "Ernie Davis: The Elmira Express," by Robert C. Gallagher.

Friends say Davis was confident with a quiet, reassuring and almost shy manner. His humility, charisma and comfortable manner made people want to be around him. He made others feel good about themselves, say his friends.

"When he walked in a room, he lit up the room, but he didn't like attention drawn to him," said Lew "Buzzy" Stark, who lived next door to Davis as a kid. "If you didn't know who he was, you would think he was just a regular guy."

A regular guy who was loved and respected by his peers and teachers, said Marty Harrigan, his high school football coach, close friend and confidant. Davis was a quiet leader, not a rah-rah type, who led by example, said Harrigan, a retired principal.

"He was the kind of guy you wanted your kids to grow up to be like," said Harrigan's wife, Louise. "He always cared so much about other people."

That concern for others was an outgrowth of his self-confidence. Davis never tried to embarrass or belittle anyone. And he defended those who were picked on or criticized.

As a child, Davis had a stuttering problem, according to his biography. It was so bad, he needed friends to act almost as interpreters, and to talk for him. But with his trademark persistence, Davis overcame the disability by reading out loud from school books or sports books.

Davis loved kids. While in high school, he coached youth basketball at the old Neighborhood House. He spent much of his free time at the Harrigan home, with Marty, Louise and their five sons and one daughter.

"Whenever he would come here, word would spread up and down the street that 'Ernie Davis was here,' " said Louise. "All the neighborhood kids would come to our house, and Ernie would go out on the porch to take the time to talk to them."

Even facing death, Davis displayed characteristic courage and understanding.

In July 1962, he was diagnosed with leukemia. He died 10 months later.

He didn't languish in self pity or expect folks to feel badly for him.

Moore tells of an incident in 1963, when he and Davis where home from college for Easter break, and were at the Green Pastures bar in Elmira.

A waitress came up to Davis, virtually in tears over his illness, and asked him how he was doing.

Although Davis knew he was terminally ill, he replied:

"They think I'm going to die, they think they have me in a grave, but that's not true. I'm going to lick this thing."

The waitress went away beaming.

"He didn't want her to feel badly for him," said Moore.

In an article Davis wrote for The Saturday Evening Post magazine, titled, "I'm Not Unlucky," he said he was lucky and appreciative for what he had and what he had accomplished.

At his wake, more than 10,000 people filed past his coffin, reads his biography. They came to say goodbye to Ernie Davis the athlete, and to say thank you to Ernie Davis the man.

"It's been 38 years since he died," said Moore. "And in all that time, I have never met a person who was a better person than Ernie Davis."