Jim Thorpe - All-American

Ladies and gentlemen,

the honorable Roy J. Turner,

Governor of the State of Oklahoma.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are gathered here this evening

to express our pride and pay tribute

to a native son of Oklahoma.

But I think it is only fitting

that I forgo the honor

of making this presentation myself

and call upon a great gentleman

of whom we are also very proud,

even though he is not a native son.

May I present to you one of the immortals

of the world of sports,

the greatly beloved Pop Warner.

Thank you Governor Turner, Mrs. Turner,

ladies and gentlemen.

I am of course highly honored

to make this presentation.

But this event

has special significance for me.

I feel a deep sense

of personal pride and pleasure.

Fifty years is a long time.

Many exciting people and events have

had their moment on the American scene.

Tonight we pay recognition to a man

who had more than a brief moment,

a man who, during the past half-century,

has carved a permanent place for himself

in all our hearts

and on this memorable occasion

I can't help but think back

to a young Indian lad

who grew up on a reservation.

As a boy, he roamed the woods

with his father, hunting and fishing.

Then one day he was faced

with the prospect of school,

that frightening institution

of the white man's world.

But being cooped up indoors

was more than young Thorpe could stand.

His father had deposited him

at the front door

and Jim left immediately by the back door.

And then, running with the wild grace

of a young deer,

the boy headed home.

Oh, Grandmother.

Jim.

Well, the boy's in school, Charlotte.

I think he'll stay there this time.

I took him far enough away so...

- Jim, how'd you get here?

- He ran.

You ran 15 miles?

Only 12, Pa. I came through the hills.

Did you hear that, Charlotte?

Twelve miles through the hills.

I hope he enjoyed it,

because he goes back to school tomorrow.

I'll run away.

You're his father.

You taught him

all the things he likes to do.

Now, teach him what he has to do.

Jim!

Jim!

You're going back to school.

- No!

- Come here!

I ain't never took a whip to you, Jim.

I ain't gonna start.

Come here.

Look out there.

What do you see?

A coyote run where I've got my traps set.

What else?

The hollow cottonwood

where the owl lives.

Three buzzards circling a dead lamb.

Do you see yellow fields of grain?

Do you see fat herds

grazing on young prairie grass?

- No.

- That's right.

You don't see nothing but a boy's world.

That's all you'll ever see

here on the reservation.

They'll give you a piece of land and you

can sit around wrapped in a blanket.

Or else you can try to

make something of yourself.

Be something.

Be what, Pa?

Whatever you want to be, boy.

It's all in the books,

and the books are in the schools.

But I don't like school.

You must change, Jim, for your own good.

You must let the white man

teach you his ways.

Before you know it,

you'll be out in the world

with your head full of learning

and you'll make your people proud of you.

Do you want me to go away?

No, boy. I'd rather have you here with me.

But I know it's the right thing to do

and I know something else.

What, Pa?

If anybody wants something from you

he ain't gonna get it by whipping you.

Twelve miles.

That was a mighty fine run, lad!

The boy obeyed his father

and returned to school,

but he could never overcome

his resentment

against this new way of life.

The Cumberland Valley of Pennsylvania

was the site of the government's

famous Carlisle Indian School.

Here came Indian youths and maidens

from every tribe in the nation.

Shawnee, Cherokee, Sioux,

Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Chippewa,

some barely able to speak English.

But all eager to prepare themselves

for a new life.

Jim had promised his father

to finish his education,

so he found himself at Carlisle,

fulfilling that promise

but confused and uncertain.

A young man torn between the prospect

of discipline and confinement

and the simple outdoor life he had loved.

I was coaching at Carlisle in those days,

teaching the Indians what I knew

about the white man's games.

The job was fun, but no snap.

When I wasn't coaching,

I was prowling around the campus

looking for material to coach.

- Here come some more.

- Oh, give them all copies.

You fellows learn these

by tomorrow morning, you hear?

Hey, hey, come here.

Here's one for you, too.

Hey, hey, frosh.

Come over here and get one of these.

Hey, you.

Yeah, you. Come here.

Hey, just a minute.

What's your name?

- Jim Thorpe.

- Do you have a tribal name?

- Wa-tho-huck.

- What does it mean?

- Bright Path.

- Bright Path, huh?

Well, Bright Path,

do you know the school song?

- No.

- No, sir.

That's right. Well, here are the words.

You memorize them,

be ready to sing for us tomorrow morning.

Oh, just a minute, Bright Path.

Do you speak Indian?

Yes.

Let's hear you recite

the Gettysburg Address in Indian.

- Why, I reckon I can't.

- You can't? Good.

Because when you recite

the Gettysburg Address,

you recite it in English.

Indian isn't spoken here.

- Hello, Pete.

- Hello.

What you got here? Football material?

From his attitude,

I don't think he's even Carlisle material.

- Ever play football before?

- What's football?

What's...

- You don't know what football is?

- No.

Well, football, bright path,

is a white man's game

and it's played with a leather skin,

something like your suitcase here.

And the object of this game

is to take this leather skin

and try to run past Mr. Denny and me.

Well, frosh, come on. Run past them.

I'm sorry, Bright Path, but that's football.

Very rough game.

Indian boy got lot to learn.

Now you try it.

- Try what?

- Run past me.

Forget it, Jim.

You got plenty of chance next year.

You try it!

Say, that wasn't bad.

Come on, I'd like you to meet Pop Warner.

- Hello.

- They sent me up here to bunk with you.

- Sure. Come on in. I'd Ed Guyac.

- Jim Thorpe.

And this untamed aborigine here

is Little Boy Who Walk Like Bear.

It's kind of a mouthful

so I just call him Little Boy.

Not hau. What have I been teaching you?

Hi.

He's full-blooded Chippewa.

His old man's chief.

Nothing like bunking with royalty.

- Where you from?

- Oklahoma. Sac and Fox.

I'm Mohawk. "Heap smart New York Injun.

"Study law, make plenty wampum,

take mortgage off teepee."

- How about you?

- What about me?

What are you going to prepare for?

You know, doctor, lawyer, Indian chief,

rich man, poor man...

I don't know.

Well, you've come to the right place

to find out.

- This is your cot, right here.

- Thanks.

Matter of fact, you can take this one

if you like, Little Boy never uses it.

- Bed too soft, make Little Boy soft.

- Soft! Listen to him!

Two hundred and twenty pounds

of steer bone.

These natives, I'll never get used to them!

You're supposed to stand when an

upperclassman comes in the room.

Yes, sir.

You three will report to the quartermaster

for your issue of cadet uniforms.

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