Post by TheShadow on Aug 4, 2010 18:47:38 GMT -5
www.insidebayarea.com
By Angela Woodall
Oakland Tribune
OAKLAND -- Fans best know Jack Tatum as a hard-hitting football player whose name could strike fear into the heart of opponents. But that would be too simple to describe Tatum, who died July 27.
He was nicknamed "The Assassin." But he would sneak pieces of his mother's pineapple coconut cake so that his wife of 30 years, Denise, wouldn't get mad at him.
The former Oakland Raider played hard on the field. Off the field, he doted on his daughter, two sons, two grandchildren, four godchildren.
When his daughter Jestynn took up basketball and soccer, he attended all the games.
And, his wife said, he was "silly as all out."
Up to nearly the hour he died, he was joking around, she said.
"He was like a big kid."
Then, suddenly, Tatum's blood pressure dropped and "he was gone," she said. "It was the hardest day ever."
The man with a big heart who spent his time raising awareness about diabetes, from which he lost a leg, had died from a heart attack.
But his death is not what brought Tatum's family, friends and former teammates together Wednesday at the Fouche's Hudson Funeral Home on Telegraph Avenue.
They came from all over the nation to remember the man who grew up in a big house full of children and food and hard work in downtown Passaic, N.J. "He was the baby," his sister Mabel Grier said. Their father was a steelwelder and their mother worked as a domestic. It was a few blocks away at the Pulaski Park that Tatum and his four siblings spent their days playing football, baseball or just hanging out.
"He just played and enjoyed himself," his brother Samuel Tatum said.
Even when his talent became so obvious that the Ohio State University Buckeyes recruited Tatum as a running back, he never boasted.
Instead he was humble. He loved his fans but didn't think he deserved all the attention, Denise Tatum said. "He played for the love of the game."
He carried the same attitude onto the field when he joined the Raiders in 1971.
He helped define what it meant to be a Raider.
When fellow Raider Gary Weaver was a rookie, he would watch Tatum stay after practice to work on defensive moves. Tatum, he said, was a leader.
"We played the game back then like it should be played. We took care of business."
Raiders fan Geary Doughty and fellow fans set up across the street from the funeral home Wednesday to celebrate Tatum. They hung a #32 jersey from a van painted silver and black bearing the logo, "Commitment to Excellence."
"Jack Tatum set the pace," Doughty said.
Tatum, said Doughty, brought a hard-hitting mentality that continues to define the Raiders. "And then the fans bring it in the stands. Jack Tatum stood up and made everybody else stand up," he said.
"Win, lose or tie: It's Raiders 'til I die,' " chanted fellow fan Jack Frazier, standing nearby. "Jack had that spirit."
Indeed, a Raiders neckband could be seen peeking out from the collar of Tatum's black suit. He was 61 and, his wife said, happy. "He didn't suffer."
By Angela Woodall
Oakland Tribune
OAKLAND -- Fans best know Jack Tatum as a hard-hitting football player whose name could strike fear into the heart of opponents. But that would be too simple to describe Tatum, who died July 27.
He was nicknamed "The Assassin." But he would sneak pieces of his mother's pineapple coconut cake so that his wife of 30 years, Denise, wouldn't get mad at him.
The former Oakland Raider played hard on the field. Off the field, he doted on his daughter, two sons, two grandchildren, four godchildren.
When his daughter Jestynn took up basketball and soccer, he attended all the games.
And, his wife said, he was "silly as all out."
Up to nearly the hour he died, he was joking around, she said.
"He was like a big kid."
Then, suddenly, Tatum's blood pressure dropped and "he was gone," she said. "It was the hardest day ever."
The man with a big heart who spent his time raising awareness about diabetes, from which he lost a leg, had died from a heart attack.
But his death is not what brought Tatum's family, friends and former teammates together Wednesday at the Fouche's Hudson Funeral Home on Telegraph Avenue.
They came from all over the nation to remember the man who grew up in a big house full of children and food and hard work in downtown Passaic, N.J. "He was the baby," his sister Mabel Grier said. Their father was a steelwelder and their mother worked as a domestic. It was a few blocks away at the Pulaski Park that Tatum and his four siblings spent their days playing football, baseball or just hanging out.
"He just played and enjoyed himself," his brother Samuel Tatum said.
Even when his talent became so obvious that the Ohio State University Buckeyes recruited Tatum as a running back, he never boasted.
Instead he was humble. He loved his fans but didn't think he deserved all the attention, Denise Tatum said. "He played for the love of the game."
He carried the same attitude onto the field when he joined the Raiders in 1971.
He helped define what it meant to be a Raider.
When fellow Raider Gary Weaver was a rookie, he would watch Tatum stay after practice to work on defensive moves. Tatum, he said, was a leader.
"We played the game back then like it should be played. We took care of business."
Raiders fan Geary Doughty and fellow fans set up across the street from the funeral home Wednesday to celebrate Tatum. They hung a #32 jersey from a van painted silver and black bearing the logo, "Commitment to Excellence."
"Jack Tatum set the pace," Doughty said.
Tatum, said Doughty, brought a hard-hitting mentality that continues to define the Raiders. "And then the fans bring it in the stands. Jack Tatum stood up and made everybody else stand up," he said.
"Win, lose or tie: It's Raiders 'til I die,' " chanted fellow fan Jack Frazier, standing nearby. "Jack had that spirit."
Indeed, a Raiders neckband could be seen peeking out from the collar of Tatum's black suit. He was 61 and, his wife said, happy. "He didn't suffer."