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Bowling Green State University Athletics
BGSU Will Miss Cunningham's Grasp Of Sports
June 22, 2000 | General
June 22, 2000
BY MATT MARKEY
(The following article appeared in the Thursday, June 22, edition of the Toledo Blade)
Earlier this month, while most of the sports world was distracted by John Rocker's travels or was wondering out loud just how Ray Lewis's friends could get away with murder, Don Cunningham quietly passed away.
Don never had a nasty tailing fastball, and he couldn't cover a tight end on a short pass route, but in the final resolve he was far more valuable to sports in general than the aforementioned notorious duo. Not nearly as famous, or infamous, but worth a million times more.
Don Cunningham died after devoting more than 50 years of his life, breath and soul to Bowling Green State University athletics. But it wasn't the buildings, the logo, or the playing fields that benefited from his devotion, it was the people - the coaches, the players, the administrators.
A 1943 BGSU grad, Cunningham started working at the university in 1946 as its first sports information director, a job he held for 20 years. He was Bowling Green's first golf coach, its first athletic ticket manager. To Don, every athlete, every coach was always something to be treasured, a living memory to be guarded and protected.
Once he arrived, he learned everything he could about BGSU's storied athletic past during the first half of the century by spending countless hours with former Sentinel-Tribune sports editor Doc Lake, and in the library, poring over old stories, photos and box scores. Cunningham banked it all in his memory.
And in the more than half a century he spent at BGSU, he was the walking media guide for every sport. The numbers were important, but it was the people who really mattered.
In 1952 a freshman named Crystal Ellis was on campus as BGSU's first African-American basketball player. When Ellis, worried over his inability to find a job in the off-season, unexpectedly got on a bus and returned home to Springfield, O., legendary Falcon basketball coach Harold Anderson quickly called Cunningham, and the pair drove to Springfield and convinced Ellis that they wanted him to come back.
Ellis went on to captain the Falcon team and had a long career as an educator, retiring as superintendent of Toledo schools. At Cunningham's wake, Ellis said he could not imagine where he might have ended up if Cunningham and Anderson had not cared enough to come after him.
Cunningham moved up the ladder at BGSU, and was business manager of the athletic department when he retired in 1979 after battling a serious heart ailment. Working with retired soccer coach Mickey Cochrane, Cunningham started a second career, building, preserving and protecting the BGSU Athletic Archives and Museum.
As Cochrane put it, he collected memorabilia while Cunningham collected people. Don never forgot the names, the faces, the teams. Students, coaches and reporters would tap him as an unlimited font of historical knowledge on BGSU athletics.
He would talk for hours - citing names, scores, events - without using a single reference book or note. Even after a series of debilitating strokes robbed him of all but halting speech, Cunningham's mind remained razor-sharp.
During the last year, Cochrane would take pictures from as far back as the 1940s to Cunningham's bedside at Sterling House, the nursing home where he was cared for, and Don would immediately identify the players and coaches in the photos, with a twinkle in his eye.
Just days before he died, Cunningham's son Scott visited him in his hospital room, bringing news that Start High had won another state baseball championship. Scott reminded his dad that Start was coached by former BGSU baseball player Rich Arbinger, then added that Arbinger had played first base for the Falcons. Don shook his head, and through his oxygen mask said with conviction: "No, catcher."
He was right, Arbinger was a catcher - nearly 30 years ago.
After the funeral, Cochrane had to go to Sterling House to pick up a box of Don's personal items. Inside he found a couple of old golf trophies Cunningham had kept close by until the end. They are now part of the archives, so even in death, Don was still giving to that shrine of BGSU athletic history.
Don lies in Oak Grove Cemetery now, in the heart of the BGSU campus, just across the street from Anderson Arena.
When The House That Roars fills up for that first Falcon basketball game late this fall, as usual Don Cunningham won't be far away.
He's now a major part of that rich athletic history he worked so diligently to preserve.
