Roland Alton
Tolliver, circa 1975
The Tao of Steve
By
Roland Tolliver
“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the
gift.” --Steve Prefontaine
I haven’t found that there are too many heroes in life.
There are a number of people that have worthy traits that are worth emulating.
There are those people that have qualities that make them stand out in the
world, whether it be in politics, education, sports, the performing arts,
religion, and in that all important field of parenting. There is one person,
though, that I have not been able to get out of my head since I was a teen.
Over the years, I have found some bizarre connection with this man, who will
have been gone from this live for the past 33 years this month.
Steve Prefontaine, known simply as “Pre” among those
familiar with the man and his life, has generated untold stories of his running
acumen, guts, and dedication. He was born Steve Roland Prefontaine on January
25, 1951, exactly seven years to the date of my own birth. Of course, there is
the strange coincidence that his middle name and my first name are the same, as
well. So, perhaps there was some pre-ordained reason that I was drawn into the
near mystical fascination with this Olympic runner and his short, but
productive life.
It was the summer before my freshman year in high school
when Pre ran the infamous 5,000 meters race in the Olympics in Munich. These
were supposed to be the “Happy” Olympics with a return to peace in the world.
These Olympic Games will always be remembered for the 13 Israeli athletes and
coaches that were killed by Palestinian terrorists after the Israelis had been
taken hostage. A number of the athletes managed to escape and hide in the
American dorms. Any innocence of the Olympics was lost that year and as recent
history has proven too many times, the innocence of a terror-free world is but
a dream. Besides Mark Spitz winning seven gold medals in swimming, Frank
Shorter winning the marathon, and Dave Wottle with his white gold cap coming
from last to first to win the 800 meter race, there is only one event that
sticks out in my mind. That was the gutsy race that Steve Prefontaine ran in
the 5000 meter final, only to finish spent and in fourth place. He was young,
21, competing against much more seasoned runners, and he almost won an Olympic
medal. It was then that I realized that we can’t win all the time, but that we
can always give a full effort in whatever we do in life. There have been a
number of times in life that I thought it would be easier to just pack it in
and give up, but then I think back to that summer and how many obstacle I’ve
overcome in life since then.
One of my life’s highlights was living in Munich for a year
while I was an undergraduate student and one of the highlights of that year was
running a race that concluded on that same track that Steve and Frank and Dave
and the U.S. Olympic team and athletes from around the world had competed on. I
often go back to that day in my mind, knowing that so many people that have had
great influence on my life are no longer here, but carry me through many days
as spirit-like inspirations. “Run fast. Run strong,” they say. “Keep going. You
can do it,” they remind me. “We’re watching over you. You are not alone,” they
remind me. Whether it be my uncle, Wayne, who died in a one car accident almost
exactly a year after Pre, or my mother, Mary, who died almost exactly five
years after Wayne, or Pre, whom I never had the chance to meet, there words
carry me through trying times. Their memories strengthen the loving and
fulfilling thoughts and words of my bride and family today. I have found that
while it isn’t healthy to dwell in the past, we can meld our history with our
present to sustain us today and brighten our tomorrows.
Steve Prefontaine was not only the greatest runner in
America during his career, but one who worked equally hard for equality and
justice among competitive runners in our country. Many of the changes he fought
for against the Amateur Athletic Union eventually came to fruition after his death.
The entire Olympic process in our country eventually changed based on the
rights he fought do diligently for. It is the essence of making a difference in
one’s life that has stuck with me as much as his running prowess has over the
years. It is one impetus for trying to make a difference in my community, my
church, in my profession and within my family.
“Go, Pre!” his fans would shout at each of his meets. He
wouldn’t be around to see the books written about him or the movies made about
his short life. He would see the minions of followers that would be influenced
by his accomplishments. Steve Prefontaine died in a one-car accident in Eugene,
Oregon, the city of his greatest feats, early on the morning of May 30, 1975.
There are many theories about the crash, but the only one who knows for sure is
gone. No one should be held up as an idol, but there are people that influence
who and what we become. We are all influenced by the people we meet in life or
by the lives of the people we read or learn about. For me, I’ve found myself following the Tao
of Steve for much of my life and with God’s help hope to follow it for many
years to come. One day maybe my children or others will be inclined to follow
the “Tao of Roland”. Well, anything’s possible, right?!
Steve Roland
Prefontaine, circa 1971
Dr. Roland Tolliver is a freelance writer from Freeport.
He often wonders what it would have been like to be an Olympian. He may be
reached at rtolliver@kastlepublishing.com.
