Rest in Peace John Mark Stallings

Tuscaloosa News Archive Photo John Mark Stallings, son of former University of Alabama head football coach Gene Stallings, died this morning. John Mark Stallings' health was fragile for years from coping with a congenital heart defect.John Mark Stallings, who had Down syndrome, turned 46 years old on June 11. He lived with Gene Stallings on the family’s ranch in Powderly, Texas, near Paris. His health was fragile for years from coping with a congenital heart defect. “I’ve known John Mark Stallings his entire life,” said Mal Moore, Alabama’s director of athletics. “I want to extend my deepest sympathy to Coach Stallings, Ruth Ann and the entire Stallings family. For someone who never played or coached a game, I think John Mark may have touched more Alabama fans than any other person ever did. I would like to thank the Stallings family for sharing their love for John Mark with all of us.” Ruth Ann Stallings, John Mark’s father, discussed what it was like to raise a child with Down syndrome at the time, in the book “Another Season: A Coach’s Story of Raising an Exceptional Son,” with Gene Stallings co-authored with writer Sally Cook: “Things were different back then. People didn’t know how to react to the news,” Ruth Ann Stallings said. “Some didn’t acknowledge his existence; others would look away in his presence. I’d dress him so cute, his blonde hair shining, blue eyes so excited when he’d meet someone. Often, they’d compliment the girls, never looking his way.” She sighs. “You remember the people who stepped forward and those who didn’t.” Funeral arrangements for John Mark Stallings are pending. For a wonderful tribute by BigDawg, click HERE. Rest in Peace John Mark. Roll Tide will never be the same.

A little boy is gone, a mother is grieving

A new blog friend, Vicki, has lost her son. Evan, who had special needs due to being a micro-premie, is the son of Vicki, who wrote this amazing essay Mother at the Swings. I so related to a passage in this essay, this one: When Evan was still in the hospital, a social worker gave us a handout, a road map for the potential reactions of friends and family members to our new status as parents of a super preemie. Potential support people came divided, according to the handouts, into the following categories: the rocks, the wanna-be-theres, and the gingerbread men. It warned us that people we might think were "rocks" could unexpectedly turn out to be "gingerbread men." Just like the story, they run, run as fast as they can from you when they hear of your baby's birth. I also know this passage is what Vicki wants us all to understand; as mothers, friends, family. We are all in this together. Let's all treasure what is unique to each of us. It has taken me even longer to appreciate the mother at the swings, to know that she and I have more in common than I once thought. To know that her curiosity is a mother's curiosity, one borne out of love and tenderness and a desire to understand a child, my son, one who happens to be different. That she will listen and sympathize when I offer my observations. That her compassion and thoughtfulness mean she will take the knowledge I share and use it to understand other mothers like myself, some of whom could be her neighbor, her cousin, her sister, her friend. And, finally, that she wants to know so that she can teach her own child, who also loves to swing, how to embrace and treasure what makes us all different. And the same. Vicki, know we are all inspired by you, as we too witness our own "gingerbread men". Thank god for our rocks. And thank god for all the mothers out there that will teach their own children how to love all that is different about each of us, and all that is the same. We grieve with you. I put a photo at Flowers at the Swings in Evan's memory. If you would like to contribute to this photo memorial, CLICK HERE and join.