The Star - News, views and advertising of the Grand Coulee Dam Area

I had my heroes, just like every kid.

Mine really got started by getting to know the owner of one of the three active taverns in Palouse in the late 1930s.

His name was Pop Brantner. I never did learn his first name.

The unlikely friendship began from my bringing in empty beer bottles, for a penny a “stubby” and five cents for a quart bottle.

Kids could go in the back door of the tavern, up to the pool tables with their retrieved bottles, and Pop would come back and pay us for them.

For some reason, Pop took a liking to me and started talking about the old St. Louis Brown baseball team. Pop knew the lineup frontwards and backwards, with the batting average of each player.

That’s when the hero thing got started.

Pop started betting me a nickel on the Browns’ games. Sap that I was, I would agree to the bet. He always made me pay up when I lost a bet. However, he always found a way to pay me back.

When he would brag about the Browns, I started bringing up the name of Babe Ruth. He had retired by the time all this was going on, but his achievements were always in the news, because at that time every batting average and home run was compared to what Babe Ruth had done. We always called him by his full name, showing some respect.

It was the start of my childhood heroes days.

Another one was Joe Louis, the heavyweight champion of the world for a lot of years.

Radio was the big thing then. The sports announcers would call the action and make you feel like you were there.

My dad and, later, my mom both liked boxing, and they would sit in front of the radio and listen whenever Louis fought.

You were in peril if you ever changed the radio dial when the action was on.

That’s how we got much of our sports news — on the radio.

My parents had their radio programs spotted throughout the week, and lined up in front of the radio to hear them.

Newspapers were important also.

My oldest brother had the franchise for the Spokesman Review in Palouse. He hired the carriers and saw that they delivered the papers.

We always had newspapers at our house. Early in the morning, I would go out to the paper box and grab the paper, ripping it open to the sports page. Mine disasters and such were of no interest to a boy of eight or nine. I wanted to check the paper for news about my sport heroes.

That’s where we got the sports news outside of the radio broadcasts.

On occasion we would get something on Movietone News when we went to the theater.

Then there was Ben Hogan, the golfer with “ice water” in his veins. He never showed his emotions on the course and was a favorite of fans back when I was a kid. I thought he was the best golfer in the world. At that time, there were others that would argue the same.

Hogan was in a severe accident and people said that he would never compete again. He was winning again in about a year. He remained in my hero status.

In football, it was the Army running pair, Doc Blanchard and Glenn Davis. Each earned Heisman Trophy honors in the mid-40s. Coached by Earl Blake, the pair hogged the headlines for several years running. I had the good fortune to get an autographed copy of a book that Blake authored.

Pop Brantner was always in the mix, even though by that time I no longer would lower myself to selling beer bottles at his back door.

But he always had time for a word with me and would argue with me about my heroes.

There were other heroes, but they soon gave way to the generals in World War II. All three of my brothers soon became part of the mix and I followed their times in both theaters of operation, European and Pacific.

Heroes don’t pass on, they just fade away!