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| | Wednesday, February 9 | |||||
The Kansas City Star | ||||||
| Editor's note: This story ran in The Kansas City Star in January, one week after Derrick Thomas was injured in a car accident, and was carried by The Associated Press. Thomas, who died Tuesday at age 33, is remembered by those who knew him, and many who didn't, as a "good guy." This is one reason why:
KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- Mention the name "Derrick Thomas" and Kansas Citians think of quarterback sacks, forced fumbles, dramatic victories.
But mention his name in Lone Wolf, Okla., and people recall how
much an NFL star meant to a dying boy, and how to them the name of
Derrick Thomas will always be linked to that of Philip Tepe.
And now, as Thomas faces his biggest battle following Sunday's
traffic accident, the people of the small town hope the lessons
from Philip can mean as much to Thomas.
In December 1992, Philip was 14 years old and a freshman on his
high school basketball team when he announced that he had AIDS. A
hemophiliac, he'd become HIV positive at age 4 because of a tainted
blood serum. Now in high school and ill, his only dreams in life
revolved around spending his few remaining years as a normal boy.
Basketball was a big part of that.
But rumors of his illness forced his announcement a few games
into his first high school season, even though doctors had told him
that the disease would not be spread on the basketball court.
In coming weeks, players from opposing teams began refusing to
play against him. At a few games, the opposing teams and fans
turned their backs on the Lone Wolf team. Teams from throughout
southwest Oklahoma were forfeiting basketball games -- both boys'
and girls' games -- because of fear.
That spring, Philip played baseball, but area schools even canceled those games. Philip's classmates were ostracized, picked on and occasionally spat upon when they visited nearby small towns.
Thomas heard about Philip in the spring of 1993. Through Kansas City lawyer and good friend Kevin Regan, Thomas contacted the family.
"Derrick doesn't want to invade the family's privacy," Regan assured Philip's mother, Dorecia Tepe, when he called on Thomas' behalf. "But he would like to do something for him. He'd like to meet him."
Soon after, Thomas flew down and introduced himself. Mrs. Tepe said her son was thrilled.
"When you really need it, God sends special people into your
life," she said, reflecting on the relationship.
"Derrick Thomas was that special person for Philip."
And the feeling was mutual.
"Derrick came to love, admire, respect Philip," Regan said.
During that first meeting and during the half-dozen or so times
they got together in the next year, Thomas and Philip spent hours
talking, Mrs. Tepe said. On one visit, the two went golfing and
disappeared for an entire afternoon.
"Philip would come back from spending time with Derrick, and
I'd ask what they did and he'd say, 'Just talked,'" she said.
"They'd go on for hours, laughing, serious. It was wonderful. I
never asked what they talked about. I figured that was private,
just between them."
That June, Thomas and Regan arranged for the Lone Wolf
basketball team to come to Kansas City. Thomas took the boys to a
celebrity golf tournament, a private performance by Hank Williams
Jr., and arranged a game for them against a team of local
professional athletes and celebrities.
Before the game, the team members discovered that Thomas had
arranged for the boys to get new uniforms, bags and shoes. The game
ended as former Chiefs great Bobby Bell hoisted the 5-foot,
79-pound Philip to the rim to score the winning basket.
It was an act that changed Philip's entire small town and turned
everyone there into Thomas fans.
During the coming months, Philip and his family came to Kansas
City a couple of more times to see Thomas and watch the Chiefs
play. Once, at Thomas' invitation, they followed the team to
Houston for a playoff game, where before the game they laughed
together over breakfast.
"It was so obvious that Derrick cared," Mrs. Tepe said. "It
wasn't a show. He didn't have to do it, but he did. He cared about
Philip."
In the spring of 1994, after doctors told Philip that he was in
the final stages and that there was nothing left to be done for
him, the 15-year-old set out to comfort his loved ones. He went
into the hills for an afternoon with his father and spent a day
reassuring his older brother. He hugged his mother and told her he
loved her. Then he made a last request.
"Could I see Derrick once more?"
Mrs. Tepe said she called, explained that death was near. She remembers, however, that she didn't get too far into her explanation before Thomas was making arrangements to get to Lone Wolf.
"He put everything on hold and came right down," she said.
"They spent the afternoon together, visiting, gabbing. It meant so
much to Philip."
As they talked, the linebacker and the dying boy spent their day in Philip's room, sitting on the bed and playing computer games.
She paused to cry, apologizing for her tears, but unable to stop them. She said that since hearing about Thomas' troubles following the accident, she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him,
praying for him. "Derrick gave so much to Philip," she said. "All night I've been praying that maybe Philip taught Derrick something that will help him come through this, something about living with tragedy. "I know Derrick will come through this," she added. "I know he won't be alone. His family is so strong. He's got such good friends. "And I know that Philip will be with him, encouraging him and holding Derrick up when he starts taking those first steps." | ALSO SEE Chiefs' Thomas dies at 33 while recovering from accident Farrey: Thomas won, lost risks Chiefs lose a 'son' in Derrick Thomas Fans stream into Arrowhead to pay homage to Thomas  | |||||