COLUMN: Poole carved place in life for me

EDITOR’S NOTE: Charlotte Observer NASCAR writer David Poole died of a heart attack at age 50 on Tuesday. During the 1980s, Morning News sports editor Sam Bundy worked as a sports reporter under Poole at the Gazette in Gastonia, N.C.

It’s 1:37 in the morning and the words aren’t coming easily.

The lump in my throat I’ve choked down since hearing of David Poole’s death Tuesday afternoon is getting larger, and tears aren’t far behind.
David meant the world to me, though I’ve never really told the world just how much.

Here’s the truth: Without David Poole, there’s a pretty good chance my life would not have turned out as fruitful as it has.

I have a wonderful wife I’ve been married to for 15 years. We have a wonderful son, a sweet little Lhasa Apso and a nice home. It’s my American Dream come true, really, and it can all be traced back to David.

———

It’s the early 1980s and my sixth-grade class is finishing up a field trip to the Gazette in Gastonia, N.C. Long before the digital world and the Internet craze, I’m fascinated by the sports shots coming off the newsroom’s AP photo machine.

As I rummage through a box of discarded pictures in search of treasures, I turn to the guys in the sports department and let them know, “I’ll be working here one day.” That draws smiles and soft chuckles to which I reply, “No, really. I will.” And with that, I clutch my finds and race to catch up with my classmates as they board the bus for the trip back to school.

———

A couple years later, I’m a very popular straight-A student at Stanley Junior High near Gastonia, but all is not well. While I couldn’t ask for a more loving Mom, her second marriage with an abusive husband is unraveling. My Dad’s girlfriend is someone I won’t be comfortable with for some time to come. And my brother and I have just been the center of a custody battle.

I need something positive to cling to. And I answer David Poole’s public call to write news for the Gazette’s weekly school page.

———

It’s 1985, my sophomore year in high school. I’m driving now, so my mom no longer has to take me back and forth to the Gazette each week as she faithfully has the previous two years.

After helping David put the finishing touches on the school page one night, he tells me he wants me to start stringing sports for him. I jump at the chance. Over the next two and a half years, I spend my nights doing the agate page, taking scores over the sports department telephones and covering everything from country club swim meets to youth football super bowls.

———

It’s the winter of 1987. Most of my high school friends are off at college. Being raised by a single mom, the money isn’t there for me to do the same, so I’m studying broadcasting at the local Harvard on the Highway. To my surprise, David makes me a full-time writer on his sports staff at the Gazette.

I’m 19. The Gazette is in its heyday, going from an afternoon publication to mornings to compete with the Charlotte Observer. I’m flying to New Mexico to cover a soccer tournament. I’m covering basketball games at Duke, North Carolina, N.C. State and Wake Forest. I’m covering minor-league baseball and Charlotte Hornets games.

Thanks to David, I’m well on my way to a sportswriting career that has spanned 20-plus years.

———

It’s Dec. 6 of 1992. I’m 23 and having a few beers with about 20 of my closest scribes from the Gazette and Observer. We’re at Providence Road Sundries in Charlotte. Jackie Tosto, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever made eye contact with, is celebrating her birthday with some girlfriends there.

One of the girls gives me Jackie’s phone number. Thanks in part to David who gave me the job that had me hanging out at Sundries, I marry Jackie a year and a half later in April of 1994.

Soon after, I take everything I’ve learned from David and work in Indiana for four years before working in Tennessee another four and then coming to Florence in 2002.

In 2005, Jackie and I adopt our only child, Adrian, from Guatemala.

———

David Poole was everything you’d think a great newspaperman should be. He was incredibly driven. Overbearing. Bright. Inquisitive. Honest. Funny. And a talented writer.

If you met him once, you didn’t forget him.

I never asked David why he gave me the opportunity he did. His staff at the Gazette was dripping with talent and there was a steady flow of resumes to his desk from around the country. I can’t help but wonder if there is another editor anywhere who would have taken a flier on a 19-year-old kid.

I have always assumed David saw potential in someone who lacked the financial means or social background to succeed. The story of how he broke into the business, after all, is eerily similar.

Then again, maybe I was just cheap labor.

Either way, as I wrap this up and head to the bedroom to snuggle with my wife and son, I thank God Almighty for David’s hire and mentoring all those years ago.

Had it not been for that, there’s no telling where I’d lay my head tonight.