All these hurricanes this year take me back to 1960 when Hurricane Donna hit the Greater Bangor area with enough rain and gale force winds to knock down the chestnut tree in our front yard.

We were living on Washington Street in Brewer at the time, and I remember grabbing every grocery bag I could get my hands on the next morning and racing out the door to gather up the beauties for a future sale at school.

What a storm that was.

We’d only been in Brewer a short time when Donna hit, but I had already become accustomed to all that the Brewer High School sports world had to offer a young kid who already had a passion for the New York Football Giants.

Back in those days, you could only get two channels on the television set. WLBZ, Channel 2 in Bangor provided the Boston Patriots games for their legions of fans, while WABI, Channel 5 gave its viewers the Giants. Those games were Sunday affairs, but on Friday nights, Brewer’s Doyle Field lit up like Times Square in New York City on New Year’s Eve. For a young boy, it was a football shrine.

Attending Brewer High football games was my favorite thing, and longing to be a part of it all had a big impact on my selection of teaching and coaching for my life’s work.

Players such as Jerry “The Jet” Kenney brought an electricity to the game every time the Witches took the field. My, could this guy run. I have no conscious memory of ever seeing a faster player in my childhood than The Jet. Once he reached the sidelines, no one could catch him. All you could see was the No. 44 on his back, getting smaller and smaller as he flew down the field.

By 1962, my father began discussions about moving across the Penobscot River to Bangor, a place that was home to Brewer’s archrival, the Bangor Rams, and, of course, his business. I could never quite wrap my brain around the idea of cheering for Bangor High School in anything. We left Brewer in 1963. School had started, and I was used to my routine at Brewer Junior High. To say the least, I was crushed. For me, it was a storm of an entirely different nature.

As Veteran’s Day approached, I had a difficult decision to make: Which side of Garland Street Field would I sit on for the annual Bangor-Brewer football game?

Now, that may not seem like a big deal to the average person, but for a lad of 12, who had been cheering for the fellas dressed in orange and black, it was a monumental choice.

The thing I remember most about that November day was watching a Bangor player score on the first play from scrimmage on a long run. He wore No. 32, and when he was tackled – which wasn’t very often – he rose slowly from the ground as if every bone in his body ached.

Jimmy Nelson was his name, and little did I know at the time, but I had a new hero. That 55-yard Nelson jaunt was the event which began to make the transition from one rival to another smoother. And guess who was chasing Jimmy all the way down the field on that first play? You’re right: Jerry Kenney. Simple irony, it was, in its purest form.

When Jim went to the University of Cincinnati on a full football scholarship, he made the whole city proud.

Jimmy even took the time to send me a UC sweatshirt after he arrived on the Ohio campus. Needless to say, I was thrilled. I got to know the wonderful Nelson family through church activities, and Jimmy and his brother Mike – who is no longer with us – always made time for younger boys who hung on their every athletic word and deed.

In the annals of Bangor sports, Jim Nelson and Leroy Patterson, another flashy back, were, arguably, the two greatest football players to ever wear the maroon and white. (Yes, those were the school colors then. No crimson yet.) Add to that football lore names such as Gerry Hodge, the longtime football coach of the Rams and a real gentleman; Peter and Paul McCarty, two of the toughest players the city has ever seen; Joey Higgins, a fine quarterback; Gabby Price, another outstanding signal caller; Robbie Newman, who was as versatile a player as the Rams ever had, and you’ve got a partial list of Ram heroes who made attending games at the old Garland Street Field a very special thing indeed.

It took me about a year to make the complete adjustment to Bangor. Another key person in that transition was coach Bob Kelley, who was teaching physical education and coaching at that time at the old Fifth Street Junior High. Coach Kelley had a special influence on my decision to teach and coach, for I saw in him someone who really loved what he was doing. I had the good fortune to be on three of coach Kelley’s teams, two at Fifth Street and one at Bangor High. Looking back on those days with the coach, I’d have to say, truthfully, that next to my own father, he was the strongest male influence in my young life.

In Bangor, we are still blessed to have a group of educators and coaches who have continued the tradition of excellence set before them in the classroom and on the playing field. People such as Roger Reed, Mark Hackett, Norris Nickerson, Jeff Ingalls, Tom Tennett, Steve Vanidestine, and scores of others, take time each week to make life a little better for kids like me who were traumatized by a geographic move across the bridge or some other major life event.

The foundation of excellence all the people from the past have built makes education strong today. It should never be understated by those in positions of prominence who never get inside a school building or a gymnasium, for that matter, to see what really goes on between teachers, students, coaches, and players.

In the crazy world around us, these dedicated adults are the bedrock of the entire educational process.

Calming storms is just part of their job.

And for the record: I stood along the snow fence on the Brewer side for that 1963 football game. But after two first-period Nelson touchdowns, I made my way to the Bangor bleachers.

And I felt right at home.

NEWS columnist Ron Brown, a retired high school basketball coach, can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net