Joe and the "Princess"

Long after the pageantry, the fluttering banners and the East-West Shrine game itself have faded away, the real stories of this great game played for the benefit of the Shriners Hospital for Crippled Children come to light. The money that annually goes to the Hospital helps provide the wonders of science and surgery. But quite often one comes upon stories of a different kind of magic, almost a miracle magic. Such a one was brought into my office today by John J. Synon, who worked in the publicity department during this season's preparation for the New Year's Day classic at Kezar. Mr. Synon sat down at one of our office typewriters and batted it out. Somehow I think you're going to like it. Here it is in his own words:

"When Joe Sullivan, Dartmouth's great back, came to San Francisco just before Christmas this year to prepare for the Shrine EastWest football game, he was but one of 48 warm-hearted athletes who had foregone their holidays at home to play football for the benefit of crippled little children. But those at Shrine Hospital will remember him as one of the finest young men this city ever hosted for a Shrine game. Certainly his memory will burn brightly in the heart of a crippled girl who remembers Joe as the hero of her first great hour.

"As is the annual custom, a week or so before game time, the players paid a visit to the benefit so greatly from their play. The proceeds of the game go to the hospital's upkeep which accepts only those children whose parents cannot afford such services. Generally, it is a toss-up who is the more bashful, the towering giants who sit humbly at bedside or the children themselves. And this year it was no different.

"Every boy and girl has a present for his football star. It's a little football player made out of pipe cleaners and leather with a peanut as a head. The player's name is on it and it's painted in school colors. Each child pins his miniature on the player's coat, sings the school song—and that makes the player his or her personal property.

"So it was as Joe Sullivan, 21-year-old, crophaired halfback, spotted his Dartmouth colors as a hawk a chicken and he thread-needled down the aisle to a little girl's side. " 'Hello princess,' he said. " 'Hello,' she answered.

"The little girl sang her song as best she could. She showed Joe her miniature painted in the oak green of Dartmouth and he leaned down so she could pin it on his lapel. And then they waited, uncertain, bashful. But in a moment, as is a woman's way, the girl broke the stalemate by reaching under her pillow and bringing out an added gift.

" 'Here,' she said, and handed Joe a little leather case.

"Joe turned it over once or twice, not knowing quite what to think.

" 'I made it,' she told him, a queer mixture of pride and shyness in her voice. 'I made it for you. I knew you were coming. I even know your name. Your name is Joe Sullivan, and it's a key case.'

" 'Ohhhhh!' said Joe. And then he looked at the gift again and in a moment looked at her.

"In an hour he and his team were gone.

"The next day Joe's East squad repaired to Santa Clara to begin training for the New Year's Day game. After each day's scrimmage, when the big fellows had showered and had their dinners, Joe went off alone and wrote his princess.

"When you write a letter you have to think: The more Joe Sullivan wrote, the more he began to realize he was pretty big pumpkins in one little lady's life.

"And he couldn't forget what the nurse had told him. His 'princess' needed something more than science and medicine. Sometimes inspiradon can do more than all the others put together. He didn't know exactly what to do but he kept on writing.

"Joe was suddenly hit with an idea. The game was to be televised. He knew his 'princess' would watch the game on the television screen.

"So Joe wrote his 'princess' that on Saturday every play he made would be strictly for her. 'And don't be surprised if I intercept two passes just for you, too,' he added.

"When he wrote that, he spoke more than he knew. In the East-West game, Joe, called by his coach, Tuss McLaughry, 'one of the greatest backs in Dartmouth history, played one of his finest games. He didn't make any long runs. But he intercepted two passes—just for his 'princess'—and they were the ones that set up victory for the East team.

"All through the game the happiest little girl at the hospital was Joe Sullivan's adopted 'princess.' That Joe was doing all this for her was a secret locked tight in a fast-beating heart, and in the words of a letter that she clutched to her tiny breast. The nurses at the hospital report that today Joe's princess is on a sure road to recovery. Science and medicine, yes, but inspiration more."

San Francisco News

JOE SULLIVAN AND HIS "PRINCESS"