A Don McCormack column: The greatest story... never told

On this Christmas Day — and every day — the saga of Paul Demshar’s journey through life is a true inspiration

DON McCORMACK

The wind blows right through you as the cold of the early November night grips you to your core.It’s 1967 and on this night in Orwell, you’ve just thrown four interceptions, contributing mightily to your team’s 20-0 loss in a game that had been postponed from the week before because of heavy snow and moved from Memorial Field in Jefferson to Grand Valley to escape the mud-clogged surface.

The game ends and you prepare to shake hands with your conquerors, who suddenly, without warning, lift you onto their shoulders and carry you off the field.

As in the opponents picking you up and carrying you off the field.

“Must be because I threw four interceptions to them,” is all you can say to yourself.

Turns out, that couldn’t have been any less true.



Hard times

You’re Paul Demshar, and you and your family were making the most out of some tough times as you live in Geneva.

Money’s tight, but like most from that generation, you and your family find a way to tackle the day-to-day challenges of living life not from week to week, but from day to day.

Your dad, Gabe, had been a railroad conductor, but was now living as a double-amputee after tripping and falling on a railroad tie, causing a wound that would not heal, allowing gangrene to set in. That took one leg, first below the knee, then entirely, before taking his other leg. The wound that started the awful process? An infected toe nail.

Still, with the love and passion for life of your mom, Bertha, acting as a beacon in the darkness even as she courageously battles the devastating effects of polio, you find a way to forge on... to always see the light.

Then, on July 9, 1967, life as you know it is shattered.

“I was just turning 17,” Paul said. “That Sunday afternoon, I saw her leave in an ambulance from my home. I called my sister and by the time she came home to pick me up and arrive at the hospital, Rev. (Hugh) Ferguson from my church met us at the car and told us my mother had just gone to heaven.”

Multiple attacks after fighting for so long and hard had finally been too much for her giant heart.

“I felt cheated not having to hold her hand and say, ‘I love you, Mom,’ one last time,” he said. “I felt cheated that I would lose my best friend when I needed her most. How many times I have sung ‘In the Garden’ over the last 42 years to remember how she and I would sing it on our back porch at home.

“I never got to have her walk across the football field on Parent’s Night with me. It would have made me so happy.

“I miss her dearly.”

With the situation as it was, Paul and his wheelchair-bound father couldn’t maintain their home in Geneva. Fortunately, his older brother, Gabe, and his wife, Martha, willingly opened their hearts — and the doors of their home on South Chestnut Street in Jefferson — to Paul, his father, and his younger brother, Dennis.

But it meant Paul was leaving all his friends to move to a rival school — just before his senior year.

He was a bit acquainted with the guys — and girls — in Jefferson. His best friend, Doug Montgomery, had taken Paul to a canteen (a postgame dance) after a boys basketball game the year before in Falcon Gym. That night, a Falcon beauty caught his eye.

Montgomery, perhaps noticing the sparks, brought the attractive young lady over to Paul and said, “This girl wants to dance with you.”

So they dance.

Through one song.

And though she didn’t realize it at the time, and neither did he, Jennifer White had already stolen Paul Demshar’s heart.



***



The young couple is standing outside their pickup truck on Woodman Avenue in Ashtabula, running across their faces as masks are looks of anguish and despair. They are standing next to their vehicle with a sign that reads: “Need cash to fix truck.”

The gentleman drives by, thinking of the rest of his day, when he looks back at the young man and woman in his rearview mirror.

He has to stop.

He has to go back.

He can’t help it.

He knows no other way.

As he gets out of his car, he introduces himself and learns that the couple is on their way to South Carolina. However, their pickup is broken down and while it will start again, it’s not going to go far.

Certainly not as far as South Carolina.

The man looks in his wallet and has a bit more than $300. He feels more than a bit sheepish. He grabs the loot and hands it to the couple, whose masks of anguish and despair are replaced by those of first shock, then amazed appreciation.

Then, the man gives him his business card and tells the couple that once they get their car up and running and resume their journey, if they have any more trouble to have whatever service garage they end up at call him.

The next day, the benefactor’s home phone rings well after midnight. It’s the owner of a garage in West Virginia calling. He has a young couple there waiting with their pickup, which has broken down on their way to South Carolina. However, they don’t have the money to cover the necessary repairs.

“Got a pencil handy?” the man in Ohio says to the garage owner. “Here’s my credit card number. Do whatever’s necessary to get their car repaired and well enough to make sure they get to where they are going safely.”



***



A magic moment

After guiding coach Tom Jennell’s Eagles to a 7-3 season in 1966 as quarterback at Geneva, Demshar took the controls of the offense for coach Al McLean’s Falcons, who struggled through a 1-9 season in 1967. Turns out, though, his former teammates at Geneva had a difficult season that fall, too, with the win against Jefferson on that cold November night in Orwell being only the Eagles’ second against eight losses.

“What we had in common at both places was great people,” Demshar said. “The guys at both schools played very hard and took a tremendous amount of pride in how hard they worked.”

Demshar said the people at Jefferson followed the lead of his brother, Gabe, and his wife, Martha.

“The entire community just embraced us... it was truly amazing,” he said. “I couldn’t have been made to feel more welcome than I was in Jefferson, especially considering I had been going to Geneva all those years and wasn’t coming into the community until just before my senior year.”

And with the postgame ride on the shoulders of his former teammates as evidence, his former teammates and classmates certainly didn’t forget him. Out of sight did not mean out of heart.

“He had not only been our quarterback, but he had been our schoolmate... our friend,” Montgomery, who starred at fullback for the Eagles that season, said. “We all missed him and appreciated him for the person he was.

“After the game, the emotions of the entire situation just hit us all at once. We crossed the field and just picked him up and carried him off the field.

“Our emotions were simply overflowing.”

“I was just totally and completely shocked,” Demshar said.

Montgomery said Demshar had his irons in many a fire.

“Paul was a good friend to so many,” he said. “He was involved in everything. He played sports. He laughed. Once you got to know him and he would open up, you could see he had an engaging personality.

“You couldn’t help but to like him.”

Meaning the fact he threw four interceptions that night — all to Eagle Merle Tingley, who would go on to fame on bowling lanes across Northeast Ohio — had nothing to do with the postgame ride to the locker room?

“I can assure you, that had nothing — at all — to do with what we did!” Montgomery said through a hearty laugh. “It was simply a spontaneous outburst of emotion for a guy who was special to us and, as it turned out, was special to the people in Jefferson, too.”

Montgomery, who has been involved in several businesses through the years, both as an employee and owner and who now owns and operates North Madison Mini-Storage, a 240-unit facility, said the way the whole situation unfolded is more than a bit storybook.

Made even more so when Paul’s father died on Feb. 5, 1968 — six months after his mother had died — leaving him, along with younger brother Dennis, completely in the care of Gabe and Martha.

“I still can’t fathom how Gabe and Martha took me, Dennis and my father in and they were only 27 years old,” Demshar, who also played basketball for coach Bob Ashba and baseball for coach Dave Lockwood as a senior at Jefferson, said. “I still marvel at what they were willing to do for us.”

“What had been a very, very difficult situation turned out to be a blessing and that was because of the people who were involved all around, but especially, Paul,” he said. “He’s just that type of person.

“He’s special.”



Making due

The Demshar clan had already lost oldest child Vince. He was on his way home on military leave to surprise his mom when the vehicle he was riding in was struck head on by a tractor trailer, killing Vince. With their mom at the fore, siblings Gabe, Ed, Betty, Polly, Paul and Dennis grew up in a home filled with Christian love.

But not much in terms of comforts.

“Paul had a real tough upbringing,” Montgomery said. “I saw it first-hand because we were best friends. I’d spend nights at his house and he’d spend nights at my house.

“He had one pair of pants to wear to school growing up. That didn’t matter to any of us who knew him and were close to him. That kind of stuff just didn’t matter, but I know it bothered Paul.

“I know it really affected him. I think that’s the biggest reason he has been so giving to so many all his life. He’s always giving something back.”

Even Demshar admits the difficult times haven’t been forgotten... ever.

“I know Mom would have been proud of me in how I had been blessed,” he said. “I would always tell her I was going to be the best-dressed guy in school because I would wear a white shirt and tie with black polyester pants to school. Little did I know it was a popularity issue.”

Still, he never let those status issues — perceived or not — get in the way of expressing himself to his Mom.

“I would always tell her when I left for school in the morning, ‘I love you, Mom.’ When I would get home, I would yell in the house, ‘I’m home, Mom,’” he said. “Oh, how I miss those words.”



***



The man waits for his food at the front of the line at Subway. As he does, he notices an older woman and a child, who appears to be around 5.

As the clerk gives the man his food, he pays for it, then tells the young lady behind the counter, “I want to pay for the meal of the lady and the boy behind me, but please don’t tell them.”

The man departs, not thinking twice about his gesture.

The next day, the man’s secretary says to him, “Boy, you really made a clerk over at Subway cry.”

Taken aback at hearing this, he asks for an explanation.

The secretary then tells him that there was a grandmother at Subway the day before with her granddaughter. The little boy had just lost his mother, his grandma’s daughter. She had taken him out to try and somehow distract him from the heartbreak even for a brief moment and figured a sandwich at Subway and a movie might prove to be a distraction.

Only after ordering their meals did the grandma realize she didn’t have enough money for both the meal and the movie. Since her grandson was hungry, she decided it would have to be the meal only.

Upon receiving her food and offering the girl behind the counter the money, the girl informed the grandmother that their meal had been paid for.

The grandmother, having just lost her daughter, breaks down. The young lady behind the counter follows suit.



***



Awash in faith

What had and continues to get Paul through these ordeals is his faith. He’s been a Christian for almost half a century. Sometimes, he admits, he asks the obvious question — “Why did it have to happen to me?”

“People will tell you you may never know until you get to heaven,” he said. “Well, I’ve gotten my answers while I’m still alive to tell you.”

Such as, why did his mother die when he was 17?

“Well, I was going to be a senior in high school at Geneva,” he said. “My junior year, I spoke to the guidance counselor there about going to college. He told me, ‘Forget it. You’re too poor to even think about it. You’re 1-A Vietnam material.’

“Had my mother not died, I would not have gone to college. I would have stayed home to take care of her. Instead, she died, I moved to Jefferson.

“If Mom hadn’t passed, I wouldn’t have moved to Jefferson — and I would not have met my wife, Jennifer, with whom I’ve been on a honeymoon for 39 years and I love her more than I ever have,” he said. “And in the spring of my senior year, I met another angel.”

Bob Grime, the guidance counselor at Jefferson, approached him and asked him why he had not done anything about signing up for college. Paul was a member of the National Honor Society and the man who would go on to help so many at Jefferson for another two decades was puzzled because Demshar was the only NHS member at Jefferson not headed to college.

“I told him my mother was deceased and that my dad had just died, so I guess I would like to go to college. He had me pick out a college from a book.

“I saw Malone College, and that was the college my pastor’s two daughters both went there, so I chose that school.”

Grime then went to work, helping Paul through the lengthy process. It all proved to be a blessing.

“I never had to pay a penny! It’s remarkable that it worked out the way it did. Thanks to Bob Grime, I went to college and made a life for myself. I would probably have died unnecessarily in Vietnam like my very good friend, Billy Endress.”

Demshar went to Malone, majoring in accounting and economics, and playing baseball.

“I was teammates with Tim Mizer and Dave Paxson,” he said. “They are both terrific guys and members of the Malone Hall of Fame.

“Let me tell you, Mize has as much hair now as he had then!”

A pitcher, Demshar made his debut on the mound for the Pioneers one for the ages.

Considering the improbable path that led him to Malone, his performance in his debut on the mound there seemed to be one of destiny.

He threw a no-hitter.



***



It’s near Christmas and the mood in the church is one of celebration, appreciation and love. As the congregation stands and joins the church choir in a hymn, the man quietly summons an altar boy.

He hands him an envelope filled with $100 bills.

“Would you do me a favor?” the man says to the youngster. “See that gentleman standing over there? Please take this envelope over and present it to him. Just tell them someone asked you to give it to them, but please, whatever you do, do NOT tell them who gave it to you. Just tell them some guy asked you to give it to him.”

With that, the young man takes the envelope to the couple and presents it to the man, whose wife is singing in the choir, and who is flanked by their children. Their home had burned to the ground a few weeks previous.

When he opens it and see the contents, his jaw drops. As the tears fall down his cheeks, he looks in all directions, searching for a clue as to where the desperately needed windfall came. His wife, seeing this play out from her perch in the choir, can’t figure out what’s going on with her husband.

The benefactor — whose family had received anonymous donations of food and gifts during his junior and senior years in high school — turns away from the probing gazes of the couple.

As he does so, his own tears fall from his eyes and tumble down his cheeks.



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Home fires

After graduating from Malone in 1972, Demshar worked as a special agent for the Internal Revenue Service. Then, he was a CPA for the firm Ernst & Ernst, before journeying out on his own to form Paul Demshar CPA, Inc. 29 years ago. His company employs nine people.

Paul and Jennifer raised two children, Matthew, along with daughter Rebekah, who is married to Joe Zelenka of the Atlanta Falcons. Rebekah and Joe, who met while both were attending Wake Forest, have presented Paul and Jennifer with 3-year-old twins, Grace and Benjamin. Matt, a former football star at Ashtabula High School and then at Boston University, and wife Lisa have presented 7-year-old Garrett Matthew.

However, Garrett’s twin brother, Clayton Matthew, was taken before he could enter this world.

“Matthew, and his wife, Lisa, were about to have twins — our first grandchildren,” he said. “A week earlier, the doctors said we were going to have two healthy grandchildren. The dreadful day came when the doctor said there was only one heartbeat. The next day, Lisa had to deliver. As it turned out, we were the grandparents of a wonderful son, Garrett Matthew. Clayton Matthew went to his Eternal Home before I had a chance to call him ‘Bubby.’

“My grandson didn’t make it and I asked, ‘Why me?’” Demshar admitted. “If not me as a Christian, who would I have wanted it to happen to? What better person to have it happen to than me, a Christian, who can accept death, knowing God is in control of our lives.

“Our family went to Rainbow (Babies and Children’s Hospital) to see that Garrett was going to be OK. We were there and saw a mother go home with six babies that day. All we wanted was two. God told me that I have one. What about the parents who just wanted one and didn’t get to go home with a bundle?”

Again, He was watching over Paul and his family.

“As it turned out, the doctors told us that had it not been for the emergency delivery of the babies, Garrett very well would not have made it, either, as his umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck,” he said. “Another week, and it would have been too late.

“Because of Clayton giving his life, we have not have had our first wonderful grandson.”

Every morning before he goes to work, Paul stops at the cemetery to pray with Clayton. He cuts the grass, or brushes off the snow, and teases him that he’s giving him his haircut. When he washes or cleans off the angel statue that protects Clayton, he tells him he’s giving him a bath.

John 15:13 reads, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Paul Demshar admits he has come to live by those words.

“I can’t help but say, ‘Greater love hath no brother than this, that this brother lay down his life for his brother,’ he said. “I tell Clayton every day at the cemetery that I love him and thank him for giving his life.”

When Paul Demshar was helpless, he never became hopeless.

Which meant hopeless never had a chance to manifest into despair.

And an unborn angel inspires his grandfather every single day.

“Why me?” he said. “Because God loves me... that’s why.”



Epilogue

Paul Demshar’s life’s story is one of heartbreak... of perseverance... of inspiration.

“If you would have told me back then, knowing where he came from, what he went through and the fact he grew up with absolutely nothing, there is no way anyone in the world could imagine Paul would go on to be who he is,” Montgomery said. “Knowing all he’s gone through in his life, the fact Paul is who he is is nothing short of a miracle.”

And on this Christmas Day, being able to have the story of the way Paul Demshar has and does live his life be told, is His gift to all of us. It was the greatest story never told... until now.

God bless us, everyone.



McCormack is the sports editor of the Star Beacon. Reach him at donmac@suite224.net.

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