LOS ANGELES TIMES: A SPECIAL REPORT...

Exactly four weeks ago, basketball star Hank Gathers of Loyola Marymount University died, and ever since, the story has twisted and turned.

There have been reports of doctors’ assessments of what happened, purchases of life-saving machinery, questions of medicine dosage, unused $1-million insurance policies, emotional funerals and emotional basketball victories, grieving families and a fatherless son, legal threats and nervous school administrators.

To tell this story as thoroughly as possible, The Times has devoted four pages that are part narrative, part anecdotal, part inquisitive and part speculative. It is the work of reporters Elliott Almond, Alan Drooz, Maryann Hudson and Danny Robbins; photographer Gary Friedman, and Associate Sports Editor John Cherwa. It is the result of interviews with more than 50 people, from Los Angeles to Philadelphia and points in between.

Mostly, it is a collection of the stories within the story of Hank Gathers, an elite athlete, who died.

--BILL DWYRE

Sports Editor

Hank Gathers, by his own proclamation, was the “strongest man in America.” Press him and he would have gladly extended his claim to encompass the world.

Gathers would say those words, frequently, loudly and proudly.

And, up until the day he died, he believed them.

Hank Gathers was 23 years old. He stood 6 feet 7 inches and weighed 220 pounds. He played basketball for Loyola Marymount University, a Division I program with Division II name recognition.

And it was a program where the weak need not apply.

Loyola’s offense was the fast-forward button of college basketball. It didn’t look for fast-break opportunities, it forced them. It was a team of constant motion, a windmill in a crowd of tall oak trees.

Its architect was Paul Westhead, who, like Gathers, came from Philadelphia. But the difference was that Westhead had achieved a measure of success, having once coached the Lakers to an NBA title. Gathers was still chasing his dream.

Gathers’ strength was legendary. He led the nation in scoring and rebounding his junior season; the rebounding title was difficult for someone just 6-7. As a scorer, he was so automatic he was nicknamed “Hank the Bank.” When he had the ball, it was like money in the bank for Loyola.

Gathers was so strong that he tore off the rim and backboard during a back yard basketball game with friends.

“The bolts that went into the roof were even torn off,” said Patrick Priamos, one of Gathers’ friends. “Shingles came off the roof, everything. I just said ‘Damn.’ ”

Gathers had a passion for horror movies, especially the “Friday the 13th” series. He would often joke about how Jason, the movie’s unkillable antagonist, was the only person he feared.

On the afternoon of March 4, 1990, Gathers’ ran three fast laps around a track next to Gersten Pavilion, where Loyola plays its home games. Gathers was feeling unstoppable and wanted to show NBA scouts that he was worth watching.

Loyola was playing the semifinals of the West Coast Conference tournament against Portland. Gathers was high and mighty, invincible and impenetrable.

At 5:14 p.m. he was living his legend, slamming the ball through the hoop with a monstrous dunk. Moments later he collapsed. One hour and 40 minutes later he was pronounced dead.

Gathers’ death left more questions than answers. Could it have been prevented? Who knew about the seriousness of his condition? Who’s to blame?

The death of Hank Gathers became a daily exercise by the media in discovery and remains so a month later.

His memory was carried forth by his basketball team, which surprised the experts by advancing to the final of the West Regional before losing to Nevada Las Vegas. The nation loves an underdog and Loyola fit that role.

This is the weekend of the NCAA Final Four. From it will emerge a new champion and the birth of new stars. But it will also be a time to remember a former star, one who didn’t live to see his success.

As Times columnist Jim Murray so simply wrote: “Death should stay away from young men’s games.”

THE WARNING

‘I Walked Off With My Arms Up to Show I Was Strong’

Hank Gathers arrived at the gym 75 minutes before game time on Dec. 9. It was like most other games, most other days.

He joked with teammates, probably had the normal butterflies. The opponent, UC Santa Barbara, was 3-1, so this would be a good game to show the NBA scouts that Hank Gathers, Bo Kimble and Loyola were for real.

Coach Paul Westhead gave his normal low-key, let’s-go-get-’em speech and the team ran onto the court at Gersten Pavilion, where the usual full house of about 4,000 was watching and waiting. They came to see the Hank and Bo Show and neither Hank nor Bo wanted to disappoint.

Loyola took control shortly before halftime, and the second half was more of the same, although Santa Barbara wouldn’t let down. Gathers had to play hard.

About six minutes into the second half, Gathers drove to the basket and was fouled. He went to the foul line, but something different was happening. Even though he wasn’t running, his heart was still racing, not slowing. He had this feeling in previous games.

“I was a little tired and a little unsure of where I was,” Gathers said.

Gathers missed his first free throw, something that had been happening more frequently than not. Then he collapsed to the floor.

Coaches, players and fans watched, unable to move, unable to comprehend what they had just seen. At first, there were nervous giggles, as if Gathers, the team clown, had made a Globetrotter-like move to mock his recent free-throw problems.

But it was more. And no one was more aware of that than Gathers.

He was on the floor for only a few seconds before he jumped back up. Immediately, he was surrounded by coaches and medical personnel. Gathers had never blacked out before, so this was a strange, scary feeling.

Chip Schaefer, Loyola’s young trainer, and Dr. Dan Hyslop, Loyola’s director of health services, gave Gathers a quick once-over on the court. They didn’t know what was wrong, but they were sure Gathers should come out of the game. Precautionary measures.

“I walked off with my arms up to show everyone I was strong,” Gathers would say later.

Schaefer and Hyslop accompanied Gathers to an area near Schaefer’s office, where he was examined again. It was decided a trip to Centinela Hospital Medical Center was in order so tests could be taken.

Schaefer went into his office to make arrangements and Gathers was left outside to think about what had just happened to him, what it all meant. Soon, he started to sob. He was on his knees with his body draped over a bench. He was facing a wall so that no one could see him.

Gathers heard a noise and turned around. Through his tears, he could see his friend Peter Priamos.

“I just blew my NBA career,” Gathers said.

The NBA was Hank Gathers’ dream, his reason for getting up in the morning. But it was a dream not totally selfish.

He had a 6-year-old son, Aaron, who was living in Philadelphia with his mother, Marva Crump.

Hank and Marva had met at a local hangout in the Raymond Rosen projects of Philadelphia. Crump was 15 and Gathers 13. Four years later, Crump became pregnant with Gathers’ child.

Gathers was at Crump’s side when their son was born and chose the name Aaron because it sounded good.

“Aaron, Aaron, it goes with Hank--Hank Aaron,” he would say.

Gathers dreamed of taking Aaron out of the projects, and the NBA would give Gathers the money to do that.

It would also give him money to help his mother, Lucille, and his favorite aunt, Carol Livingston. Gathers was close to Livingston and often told her things he would not tell his mother.

But most of all, Gathers wanted to be in the NBA for himself. He wanted to be a lottery pick (one of the top 11 players taken) and was obsessed with that. However, despite leading the nation in scoring and rebounding as a junior, Gathers wasn’t considered the best NBA prospect at Loyola. That role fell to his friend, Bo Kimble, who seemed to have more of the skills and physical attributes NBA scouts wanted.

How did that affect Gathers? It just made him try harder.

THE DIAGNOSIS

‘This Is the First Time I’ve Really Been Scared’

The seriousness of Hank Gathers’ condition was lost on most in attendance Dec. 9. In fact, The Times trivialized the event with a headline the next morning that said: “Gathers Faints, but Kimble’s 51 Keep Loyola From Collapse.” The story appeared on page 9 of the sports section.

Gathers was admitted to Centinela Hospital Medical Center that night and doctors began running tests. His doctor was Michael Mellman, an internist who, in addition to Loyola, also works with the Dodgers, Lakers and Kings.

The first night, they administered an electrocardiogram and hooked Gathers up to a heart monitor. They also ran blood tests every two hours to see if any metabolic changes were taking place.

The next day, more extensive testing was done, which included a treadmill test. Gathers joked that he almost broke the treadmill.

“I’m still the strongest man in America,” he said.

Gathers was released after two days, but he continued to undergo medical testing for the next few weeks at Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital in Inglewood.

On his first day as an outpatient, he went to practice and even shot a few baskets. He wasn’t supposed to, but he couldn’t resist. The next day, Gathers wasn’t feeling well and stayed home.

All this time, Gathers was talking with reporters and sprinkling his comments with cheerful optimism. But within that first week, it was clear to Mellman that Gathers had an irregular heartbeat. However, Mellman didn’t know what was causing it.

Mellman referred Gathers to Dr. Vernon Hattori, a cardiologist, and Dr. Charles Swerdlow, an electrophysiologist, who began testing Gathers at Daniel Freeman.

Gathers was given an electrophysiology test, which involves a catheterization. In the procedure, doctors try to simulate an irregular heartbeat and then shock the heart back to normal.

Gathers, who was awake during the procedure, was extremely upset afterward. His mother, Lucille, was at the hospital, but Gathers didn’t want to see her. A nurse took Lucille into the room, but Gathers just looked away. He wouldn’t speak with her.

Lucille left the room crying, and a hospital worker tried to comfort her. Gathers’ silence on his condition forced his mother to call Gathers’ friends about it.

Hattori also ordered an angiogram, and the electrophysiology test was repeated. Gathers had to be checked into the hospital for the angiogram. Later, medical records showed that a heart biopsy, a more rigorous test, was planned for after the season.

After the tests, Hattori called Gathers to his office and asked him to bring a friend. Gathers chose Priamos, a USC booster who had befriended him when he played for the Trojans in 1985-86.

The doctors told Gathers that he had a cardiac arrhythmia, an irregular heartbeat. It was a serious condition, one that could have kept him from playing if they couldn’t find the proper medication to control it. The doctors agreed that without the medication, there was no way he could play.

Gathers was prescribed a beta-blocker called Inderal, a drug commonly used to control arrhythmia. He was originally told to take 240 milligrams a day. It amounted to an 80-milligram tablet in the morning, afternoon and at night.

Inderal use needs to be monitored closely, and abrupt discontinuance can result in a heart disorder. The doctors put Gathers on a schedule in which he was to be tested weekly for proper medication levels and also given a treadmill test.

Gathers was aware of the risk he was taking and it scared him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Gathers confided in two of his friends, Peter Jr., and Patrick Priamos, twin sons of Peter Priamos. “This is the first time I’ve really been scared.”

Gathers met the twins in the coffee shop at the AmFac Hotel. As always, the conversation got around to Gathers being a lottery pick. Being chosen low in the first round wasn’t good enough.

The three talked for several hours, but the conversation wasn’t just about Gathers. The twins also talked about their dreams of being successful musicians. On the surface, the relationship between this 6-7 black basketball player and two short white teen-agers with long hair was unusual. But to Gathers it meant a lot.

The session broke up late and Gathers walked the twins to their car. He always did that because he joked that they looked like girls. He gave them both a long hug.

“You guys, I’m scared; I don’t know what to do,” Gathers said.

To which the twins said they replied, in reassuring tones, that everything would be OK, that he had told them not to quit their music careers and that, in that way, he couldn’t quit either.

“You’ve got to take some of your own advice and go with what the doctors tell you,” Peter Jr. said.

Gathers’ fainting spell was puzzling, especially considering his history of near-perfect health.

He had had a serious case of the flu in March, 1989, but he insisted on playing through it. On one occasion, he was too ill to go to the store, so he sent his roommate, Rob Cannon, to pick up supplies. But still, Gathers wouldn’t stop. He was chasing his dream.

To that end, Gathers modified his personal life. He had a set of rules: No alcohol. No caffeine three days before games.

He drank a lot of water and ate salads and oranges. It was his belief that his body would be cleaned of impurities and he would then perform at his best.

But his secret was oat bran cereal. He would eat four bowls before every game.

If Gathers ever caught any of his close friends drinking, he lectured them. He never wanted to be around drugs or alcohol, saying they were a sign of emotional weakness.

“I don’t need to find escapes,” Gathers said. “Love who you are. Love yourself.”

THE RECOVERY

‘If It Comes Again, I’ll Take Myself Out of the Game’

Gathers didn’t accompany the team to Oregon State Dec. 19, 10 days after his fainting spell, and he sat on the bench for the Oklahoma game Dec. 23 at Gersten Pavilion. He suited up and took part in warmups before the Oklahoma game, and his entrance onto the court brought the crowd to its feet. But it was only a tease. He wasn’t ready to play.

Gathers’ condition was not made public. In fact, Hattori had instructions from Gathers to discuss Hank’s condition only with Westhead and Schaefer, the trainer. Gathers didn’t want to worry his mother.

Hattori, bound by medical ethics, could only discuss Gathers’ condition with those Gathers allowed to know. Hattori was not under contract to Loyola, had no ties with the school.

Doctors told Gathers that when he got excited his heart had a tendency to beat more rapidly. They gave him a series of deep breathing exercises to try if his heart started to race.

After Hattori and Swerdlow consulted with Mellman, Gathers was given a release to play. Loyola received a letter signed by Mellman and dated Dec. 21 that cleared Gathers to go back to “full participation,” but only after a seven-to-10-day observation period. The school said there were no other conditions.

Gathers returned to practice Dec. 26, but Loyola made no announcement as to his condition. He told reporters that doctors were still taking tests, but that he was feeling fine.

Gathers was also outfitted with a Holter monitor to wear during practice. The device is used to determine the proper medication necessary to keep the heart functioning normally.

Gathers was getting ready to return to play. The medicine was making him feel sluggish, but he thought that was only temporary. Still, Gathers knew there was something wrong and he was prepared to deal with it.

He discussed his condition with few people. One of them was Albert Gersten, Jr., son of the man for whom Loyola’s gymnasium is named. Gersten Jr., was a familiar sight at Loyola basketball games.

Gersten got to know the players and had more locker room access than the normal fan. In fact, some Loyola officials were unhappy at his close presence to the team, but it is not easy to say no to someone still making payments on the gym.

It was Gersten’s plan to get a second opinion for Gathers and make sure every question was answered.

“We’ll go get the top guy, the top hospital, the top specialist, and we’ll do the tests with them just to make sure,” Gersten said.

He took Gathers to William J. Mandel, a cardiologist at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Mandel concurred with Hattori’s opinion. At one time, Hattori had trained under Mandel at Cedars.

Gathers was still concerned. He remembered the feeling that came over him that night of Dec. 9, and he devised a plan to take himself out of the game if he felt that way again.

“I felt that fainting spell come on,” Gathers told friends. “If it comes on again, I’ll just take myself out of the game. I’ll come right out. Even if I feel a twinge of it, I’ll come right out.”

Gathers knew if he suddenly pulled himself from a game, he’d have a lot of questions to answer. So, he decided he would fake either a stomach cramp or muscle pull.

He was ready to resume his playing career. He was aware of the risks. But, being the “strongest man in America,” he didn’t think he would die.

John Wyngarden, a salesman for Physio-Control, picked up the phone to talk with a nurse from the cardiology department of Daniel Freeman Hospital. She needed information about buying a defibrillator, a device used to shock a normal heart back into rhythm.

Use of a defibrillator is an unsightly procedure, whereby paddles or electrodes are placed on the chest and a shock is sent into the heart. It causes the body to jerk wildly and is often accompanied by the smell of burning flesh.

But Wyngarden was not giving the hospital information for its benefit. It was being obtained on behalf of Loyola Marymount, which was purchasing the machine on the suggestion of doctors after Gathers’ initial fainting spell. The cost was $5,200.

The model was a Life Pak 200, not the top of the line, but as easy to use as an instant camera. When electrodes are placed on the chest, the machine advises the operator when--or if--to shock. This particular model is semiautomatic, designed for use by minimally trained emergency personnel. Instead of paddles, a disposable electrode is placed on the chest.

Lane Bove, vice president of student services at Loyola, authorized the purchase. She said Gathers’ doctors didn’t require that a defibrillator be kept courtside, but they mentioned it. She said school officials were trying to take every precaution.

Chip Schaefer, Loyola’s trainer, was trained to use a defibrillator. He kept the portable with him at courtside and carried it to all away games, beginning with the Xavier game Jan. 2.

Schaefer said that Gathers was aware that there was a defibrillator at courtside, but Schaefer was discreet about it. Some of the players thought it was a Nintendo game; others thought it was another piece of medical equipment. On the road, Schaefer made it part of his luggage.

After March 4, Schaefer didn’t carry the defibrillator to games anymore.

THE RETURN

‘I Was Really Out to Prove Something to the NBA Scouts’

Gathers returned to the starting lineup for the Dec. 30 game against Niagara. He had 22 points and 11 rebounds in 24 minutes of play. He made 10 of 19 shots. His timing appeared to be off, but there was no reason to believe that Gathers would make anything but a successful comeback.

Westhead would anger Gathers during this period because he wouldn’t play him more. The coach would even make halfhearted excuses to keep him out.

“Oh, I forgot to get you in, sorry,” Westhead would tell Gathers.

Still, Gathers talked excitedly about an upcoming trip to the East, which would include two games in his hometown of Philadelphia.

The trip began with a 115-113 last-second loss to Xavier. Gathers scored 20 points and grabbed eight rebounds in 30 minutes. But he made only seven of 23 shots and his timing was clearly off.

Gathers was visibly upset the next morning. “I can’t finish off a shot,” he said. He slept the entire plane ride to Philadelphia. He usually slept on planes, but this time it was different. This was a deep, deep sleep.

After arriving in Philadelphia, Gathers dropped his bag at the team hotel and took off with teammate Terrell Lowery to go to his mother’s house. Nobody was home so they went to another part of the Raymond Rosen projects and visited Hank’s son, Aaron, 6.

Gathers spent most of his free time in Philadelphia with Aaron. Aaron sat behind the Loyola bench at both games. Hank was Aaron’s favorite player. And Aaron was Hank’s “Little Bank.”

The games in Philadelphia were supposed to be celebrated homecomings for Gathers, but in the Jan. 4 game against St. Joseph’s, he scored one point in the first half and only 11 for the game. Bo Kimble, who was also from Philadelphia, scored 54 points and sank the game-winning three-point shot. Kimble made headlines in every local paper the next day.

Westhead tried to alibi for Gathers.

“He’s not nearly close to his game,” the coach said. “He wants to play, but he’s just not ready. At halftime, he was totally spent.”

It was obvious to those who knew about Gathers’ condition that something was having a major effect on Gathers’ performance, perhaps the Inderal.

On the morning of the La Salle game, Gathers picked up Aaron at 10 and took him to get a haircut. Gathers told Marva Crump, Aaron’s mother, that he thought his son’s hair was too long. Soon, Aaron’s hair had been cut to look just like his father’s.

Against La Salle, Gathers made 12 of 20 shots and scored 27 points in a 121-116 victory. It was at this point that Gathers spoke publicly about his medication problems. He said he knew he would play a good game against La Salle because, after the St. Joseph’s game, he got his doctors to reduce the amount of Inderal he was taking.

At this point, Westhead also talked about Gathers’ medical problems. He believed that Gathers had turned the corner and doctors were making progress in diagnosing the condition.

Loyola began its most hectic week of the season with a home game Feb. 1 against St. Mary’s. Gathers scored 44 points in only 28 minutes as Loyola won, 150-119.

Gathers continued his comeback two days later, scoring 48 points against Louisiana State University. Loyola lost the game in overtime, but Gathers was nonetheless proud of his performance. He thought he had proven his worth to NBA scouts while playing against bigger opponents.

“I was really out to prove something to the NBA scouts and the folks around the nation,” he said. “I wanted to make a statement, no matter who I play, how much bigger, I come to play. Whatever team drafts me will be a lucky team. They are going to get a quality, sound player, who comes to play every night.”

Gathers finished the grueling week with a 30-point performance the next night against the University of San Francisco.

Medical records obtained later by a Gathers family lawyer showed that Gathers’ daily dosage of Inderal was being reduced. At the same time, he continued to reach a level of consistency in his play. This made Gathers happy. He saw Inderal as something that could keep him from his dream.

By the end of February, Gathers’ daily dosage of Inderal had been reduced to 20 milligrams, twice a day.

Gathers was reaching a critical point in his life. He believed that he had to have an excellent performance in the West Coast Conference tournament to impress NBA scouts. He was feeling that sense of invincibility that had been lost for a couple of months. Nothing was going to stop him.

They were, in terms of public perception, joined at the hip. Hank Gathers and Bo Kimble, friends and teammates who together took their basketball skills from the streets of Philadelphia to the freeways of L.A.

Gathers and Kimble grew so close at Dobbins Tech High School in Philadelphia that they both decided to attend USC in 1985. After Stan Morrison was replaced as USC coach in 1986, both transferred to Loyola.

But close as they were, they were very different.

“They were close because they played together, but they would have driven each other crazy if they lived together,” said Rob Cannon, a Loyola baseball player who roomed with Gathers last season. “It wasn’t like wherever Hank was, Bo was.”

Gathers and Kimble argued so much about what to do after Morrison’s dismissal and the hiring of George Raveling at USC that they almost came to blows one night in a restaurant. Gathers wanted to stay at USC, Kimble didn’t.

Ultimately, they both left for Loyola.

“Kimble made Gathers and Gathers made Kimble. We’ll stick together,” Gathers said.

During pickup basketball games, the pair would often engage in heated arguments. Kimble would usually back down when challenged by Gathers.

At Loyola, Gathers would become the team leader and prankster. The sheer force of his personality was enough to draw the spotlight.

But they underwent a role reversal between their junior and senior years. As juniors, Kimble was often late and sometimes difficult to deal with, as he tried to come back from a knee injury that caused him to miss half the season. However, after Gathers fainted the first time, the positions changed and Kimble assumed the spotlight, accepting the responsibility that went with it.

Gathers was suddenly in a position he wasn’t familiar with, a position he had trouble accepting.

MARCH 4, 1990

‘Kill My Dream of Playing in NBA, You Might Kill Me’

The West Coast Conference tournament was supposed to be easy for Loyola, and Gathers was looking to win his third consecutive most valuable player award. Loyola won the first game of the tournament rather easily, 121-84, over Gonzaga on Saturday night. Gathers had a good game and was especially effective rebounding.

He slept late March 4. There was no need to waste a lot of energy on the morning of a game, especially a game that would have so many television cameras present.

There is no way of knowing how much the medicine was on Gathers’ mind at this point. It is known that he did miss at least two scheduled tests the week before the game, and that Hattori had called him after each one, telling him he needed to get in and get them done.

Each time, Gathers said he would show up the next day. Each time, he didn’t.

Finally, Hattori called Gathers and told him that, unless he increased his dosage, he could not play in the WCC tournament weekend games. Gathers protested the decision. Hattori tried to reason with him. He also reminded him that he had a warning sign before his Dec. 9 fainting spell, a racing heart. If that happened again, Hattori said, Gathers should stop playing immediately, get off the court and call him.

Gathers wouldn’t get a chance to see his friends the Priamos twins until after Sunday’s game, so he decided to call beforehand.

“Hank, are you taking your pills?” Patrick Priamos asked.

“Yeah,” Gathers said.

“Hank, is all this really worth it? What if something happens? Why don’t you just pack it in and be a sportscaster, become an agent or do something else?” Patrick asked.

“What if someone told you to stop playing in a band and be a record producer or manager?” Gathers retorted. “If you kill that dream of mine of playing in the NBA, you might as well kill me.”

Gathers talked for a while longer about other subjects.

“Give us a call after the game,” Patrick said. “We’ll hook up. We’ll see you then.”

“OK, I’ll do that,” Gathers said. “You know I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Hank.”

Hank Gathers’ dream had only a few hours left.

Gathers was especially up for this game. He varied his pregame ritual and showed up at the track that was adjacent to Gersten Pavilion at about 3:30 p.m. for the 5 p.m. game.

He was wearing his warmup uniform and started jogging around the track. But the jog quickly turned into a sprint; Gathers circled the track three times. The strongest man in America was preparing to show the world that Hank Gathers couldn’t be stopped.

He arrived in the gym his customary 75 minutes early. After changing into his uniform, he walked out to warm up.

Game time approached and Loyola came on the court. Gathers had a serious look as he walked onto the court and took his customary position leading the rebound line.

The time was 4:30 p.m.

After he was diagnosed as having an irregular heartbeat, Hank Gathers stood to get $1 million. He had purchased a $1-million disability insurance policy with Lloyd’s of London in May from Dana Morck, a Torrance insurance broker who had sold insurance to Loyola Coach Paul Westhead. Gathers got a bank loan to pay the $6,600 premium. That was OK under rules established by the NCAA.

But the idea of cashing in the policy went no further than a discussion Gathers had with his friend, the senior Priamos. As long as Gathers had clearance to play, he was going to play.

After Gathers’ heart condition was diagnosed, Morck believed that Gathers had a case to collect the $1 million.

“I called Hank in December to see how he was doing,” Morck said. “He said he was fine, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about his condition that much.”

The application for the policy required that Gathers undergo a routine physical and obtain verification of his status as a high draft pick in the NBA. The Loyola sports information office supplied the insurance carrier with newspaper clippings and news releases.

Gathers had to answer a series of questions about his lifestyle and medical history. As part of the questioning, he was asked if he had any dangerous hobbies, such as sky diving or hang gliding.

“Well, I box a couple times a month, Golden Gloves,” Gathers said.

Morck looked shocked until Gathers laughed. Gathers was putting him on.

“I’m healthy,” Gathers said. “I’m healthy.”

Gathers won the opening tip and Loyola was off and running. The team was building a lead; Portland was clearly outmatched.

Gathers was running a familiar right wing break when he took a long lob pass from Terrell Lowery. He grabbed the ball in mid-air and slammed it through the hoop. The crowd rose to its feet. It was the Hank and Bo Show and Hank was running full speed, having already scored eight points.

Gathers gave Lowery a perfunctory high-five, then got in position as Loyola went into its full-court press. Gathers was standing near midcourt.

There were 13 minutes 34 seconds left in the first half.

The score was 25-13, Loyola.

The time was 5:14 p.m.

Suddenly, Hank Gathers crashed to the court.

Disoriented, he tried to get up, but he failed.

He slumped to the floor a second time.

Josh Lowery, a Portland player, gave Gathers his hand, as if to help him up. But Gathers wasn’t getting up.

Loyola’s trainer, Chip Schaefer, came off the bench and was the first non-player to reach him.

Gathers’ body started to go into convulsions. His left arm was pinned under his body.

Carol Livingston, Gathers’ aunt, arrived next, followed by Dr. Benjamin Schaeffer, an orthopedist who was the attending team physician, and Dr. Dan Hyslop.

They were soon joined by Gathers’ mother, Lucille, and his brother, Derrick. Dr. Terrance Peabody, the brother of Loyola player Tom Peabody, also came out of the stands.

Livingston got down on her hands and knees and started shouting, “Somebody do something! Somebody do something!”

Gathers was lying on his back, his body crossing the midcourt line but slightly closer to the Loyola basket.

Brian Quinn, Loyola athletic director, asked someone on press row to call 911. Gary Jones, at that time a reporter for the L.A. Daily News, made the call. The paramedics received the call at 5:17.

Chip Schaefer recounts the next few minutes, relating that Gathers had a pulse immediately after collapsing:

“At first, he felt responsive and you don’t perform CPR on a person who has a pulse.

“It was determined quickly that we should get Hank removed from the floor. He (Dr. Benjamin Schaffer) thought it was more appropriate to treat him not in front of 5,000 people.”

Schaefer went to get a stretcher and Gathers was carried outside the gym door, a distance of 68 feet. As soon as they got Gathers outside, Schaefer hooked him up to the school’s defibrillator.

Gathers didn’t have a pulse. The machine indicated a shock was necessary. Three shocks were given.

Gathers lifted his head off the stretcher and looked at no one in particular. He took two deep breaths and his head dropped back to the stretcher.

Rescue Ambulance 5 of the Los Angeles Fire Dept. in Westchester arrived at 5:21 and they continued to use both a defibrillator and administer CPR.

At 5:34, the rescue vehicle left Gersten Pavilion and headed for Daniel Freeman Marina Hospital, just two miles away.

Gathers arrived at the hospital at 5:38 and emergency personnel continued to work on him for more than an hour. Emergency room nurse Dottie Sukeva was one of the first to start working on Gathers. Like everyone in the emergency room, she had no idea of the prominence of their patient.

However, it became apparent very quickly that Hank Gathers wasn’t just another cardiac victim. The switchboard started to light up with calls from reporters. Barry Zepel, Loyola’s sports information director, was enlisted to answer calls.

Everyone wanted answers, but none came.

Finally, two doctors emerged from the emergency room and stonily walked past everyone.

A few moments later, a woman’s shriek pierced the air. The door to the emergency room flew open and Carol Livingston started screaming, “Oh my God. He’s gone. He’s gone. What are we going to do?”

She ran to a pay telephone and started calling Philadelphia. She relived the ordeal on the phone: screamed and collapsed.

Tony Walker and Chris Knight, still dressed in their Loyola uniforms, started crying. Walker sought comfort on the shoulder of assistant coach Brian Woods.

A young woman ran screaming through the crowd, “It can’t be. He’s just asleep.”

But still there was no official word.

Forty-five minutes later, Zepel came out of the emergency room, followed by athletic director Quinn. They were met by television lights and strobes flashing.

Quinn then made the announcement: At 6:55 p.m., Dr. Mason Weiss, cardiologist on duty at Daniel Freeman Marina Hospital, had pronounced Hank Gathers, the strongest man in America, dead.

On Dec. 31, 1987, Hank Gathers bought a fish. He named his new friend “Bank” and he was going to see him through into the New Year. But Gathers wasn’t well versed in caring for the fish. He heated the aquarium to 95 degrees and within 20 minutes “Bank” was floating on its side.

“I thought he was sleeping,” Gathers said.

Even though Gathers had owned the fish a matter of hours, he grieved. He put the fish in a plastic bag, then formed a tissue into the shape of a pillow. Then he took out a spoon and dug a hole in front of the dormitory. The fish was buried and flowers were placed on top of the grave.

Later that night, Gathers attended an L.L. Cool J. concert with friends. But he was still distraught and spent most of the night talking about his fish.

Long after Gathers moved away from his campus dormitory, he would walk past the spot where he buried “Bank” and say, “That’s where the little guy is.”

THE AFTERMATH

‘How Can We Possibly Be Liable?’

The day after Gathers died, the Loyola Marymount campus swirled with media activity. More than 100 reporters were present at a press conference called by the school at 11 a.m.

Some of the team members walked into the gym and sat on a makeshift podium, set up for a question-and-answer session. Bo Kimble spotted KTLA-TV sportscaster Ed Arnold and wept openly on his shoulder. Kimble and Gathers had been interns at Channel 5 in the fall.

Kimble joined teammate Jeff Fryer, Coach Paul Westhead and school president Father James Loughran on the stage.

As Kimble spoke, he started to cry. Fryer never took off his sunglasses. Dealing with this crush of reporters was something the players had to learn quickly.

Mike Gilleran, commissioner of the West Coast Conference, had announced that the rest of the tournament had been canceled and that Loyola would receive the conference’s automatic bid to the NCAA tournament.

Meanwhile, Loyola made refunds to a half-dozen ticket buyers who wanted their money back.

The outpouring of grief continued Tuesday, when a memorial Mass was held at Gersten Pavilion. But mixed with the grief was the sense that battle lines were being drawn.

Father David Hagen, longtime friend of the Gathers family from Philadelphia, began making demands of the school in his eulogy. He said Gathers should be given a diploma, a memorial fund should be established and the court be renamed for Gathers.

Later that night, problems started to arise between Gathers’ doctors and his family.

Dr. Michael Mellman, an internist, and Dr. Vernon Hattori, a cardiologist, tried to meet briefly with the Gathers family. Hattori said they refused the meeting. However, Loyola booster Albert Gersten Jr., said the doctors did meet with the family but communication broke down.

By Wednesday, published reports attempting to answer the questions surrounding Gathers death did little more than raise more questions. The Times quoted an unnamed cardiologist as saying that Gathers had been told not to play. The cardiologist was quoted as saying that Gathers did not show up for his weekly treadmill test and may not have been taking his medication.

The story also contained an account of the events after Gathers collapsed and the fact that a defibrillator was purchased by the school as a precaution for Gathers. It also marked the last time many of the people involved would make any public comment.

Wednesday afternoon, Hattori and Mellman issued a statement through Loyola. It said that, while full disclosure of the details surrounding Gathers’ medical evaluation and therapy would end speculation, it would violate the doctor-patient relationship. The statement said that confidentiality could not be breached until the family, in this case Lucille Gathers, gave her approval.

Friday, The Times reported that Loughran said he was comfortable with the way things had been handled by Loyola. He also said that Mellman had signed a release clearing Gathers for “full participation” after a monitoring period of “seven-to-10 days.”

“How can we possibly be liable?” Loughran asked.

Bruce Fagel, a Beverly Hills attorney who has a vanity license plate on his 1989 Lincoln that reads: JUGLR, said he had an answer to that question at a news conference he called that day. Fagel said he had been retained by the Gathers’ family--mother Lucille, brothers Derrick and Charles and Gathers’ aunt Carol Livingston--to represent them.

He said he was going to wait until Gathers was buried before announcing the suit, but Loughran’s published comments compelled him to hold a press conference.

Even Hagen was surprised at the timing of the announcement.

“I thought he was going to wait until Tuesday,” Hagen said. “I guess it was all the Hank bashing.”

Fagel specializes in medical malpractice suits, but is also licensed as an emergency room physician.

Fagel said the most serious allegations included charges that someone in the Loyola athletic department had requested a reduction in Gathers’ medication because it was affecting his play. Fagel also questioned the manner in which Loyola physicians treated Gathers after he collapsed and subsequently died. He also claims the family suffered emotional distress.

Other lawyers following the case expressed dismay that Fagel would say some of the things he said before he had even filed a suit.

So, suddenly it was as if Hank Gathers didn’t matter anymore. There were other forces at work.

THE FUNERAL

‘These Are Real Slums, Nothing Like . . . L.A.’

It doesn’t really matter at the Raymond Rosen projects if it’s day or night; if it’s raining or sunny. The rows of two-story brick houses in this north Philadelphia neighborhood always look gloomy, and the darkness only causes the high-rise flats to look even more scary.

Chain-link fencing surrounds the low-income housing, attempting to separate the dirt lawns from the grimy sidewalks, the residents from the drug users and the drunks who litter the area.

But there is an even greater darkness that lives in this project, one that has nothing to do with time or race but with the stifling of spirit.

Gathers was an exception. Having grown up here, he dreamed of a better life. He also wanted a better life for Aaron, his 6-year-old son, and Lucille, his mother. Both still live here, just blocks away from each other.

A few blocks from the Raymond Rosen projects is the Emmanuel Institutional Baptist Church, where Gathers’ mother worships.

The church, its gray turrets looming from its castle-like structure, appears to be a refuge in the midst of this neighborhood. But the grounds are not fit for royalty, or really, anyone else.

Front steps of row houses lead to barricaded doors. Burned out buildings with shattered windows tower over the sidewalks and littered roads. There is litter everywhere except in front of the church.

On this March day, the city sent its garbage trucks on a cleaning spree.

It used to be a viable community, C. Douglas Clarke, a longtime resident said. But then the Philadelphia Riots broke out, just a half block north of the church, in front of the Little Harlem Bar. A man and his girlfriend had an argument in the street, Clarke says, and that started it all. Everybody joined in. That was back in 1964 and the area hasn’t been the same.

But proudly, Clarke points to a wooden shack a few buildings from the bar. Joe Frazier trained there before he fought Muhammad Ali.

“That was when the street was like Seventh Street in Harlem,” Clarke said. “But no longer. These are the real slums, nothing like the Crenshaw District of L.A. I was there in 1971 and that was bourgeois. This, my friend, is the slums.”

Hank Gathers came home on Thursday, March 8. His body was taken off the plane to the Keene & Carney Funeral Home, where it stayed until Sunday. A memorial service was held Friday at Dobbins Tech High School.

On Sunday morning, the body was taken to Emmanuel Institutional Baptist Church, where it lay in state and was viewed by thousands until the funeral service Monday.

On the day of the funeral, thousands more lined the streets and sidewalks in front of the church waiting for the service to begin. Organ music from inside the church was piped outside through loudspeakers.

Some people even climbed a chain-link fence in a vacant schoolyard to get a good view of the front church steps. They watched as Pooh Richardson, the former UCLA star who had grown up with Gathers, left the church after viewing the body and collapsed into the arms of Sonny Hill. Hill was one of Gathers’ close friends, after coaching him in a summer basketball camp.

As noon approached, the Loyola basketball team, which had been waiting quietly in a bus for nearly two hours, entered the church. Members of the La Salle basketball team, many of whom were friends of Gathers, had already been seated. Limousines carrying members of the family were ushered through police barricades and family members were escorted up the church steps.

Across the street, Marva Crump stood in a schoolyard and watched as her son, Aaron, got out of a limousine and entered the church. Aaron, dressed in a black tuxedo, hung onto his Uncle Derrick, Gathers’ younger brother.

Gathers’ mother, Lucille, was not among those making the long procession up the aisle. She had checked into Hahnemann University Hospital early Saturday morning, complaining of chest pains. She was permitted by doctors to attend the funeral, but then she had to return to the hospital.

The family procession was frightening, filled with grief and raw emotion. Gathers’ aunt, Carol Livingston, and one of Gathers’ friends, began to wail as they walked single-file down the aisle. Both collapsed backward into the procession, setting off a domino-like motion.

Once the family was seated and attendants had calmed everyone down, Lucille Gathers entered the church from an altar door.

The Gathers family took up most of the seating on the right side of the church. Conspicuous in the fifth row were a white couple, Albert Gersten Jr. and his wife, Marilyn. Gersten continually left his seat during the funeral to comfort Lucille. Two hours into the service, Lucille was escorted to her son’s coffin, where she said goodby and was then taken back to the hospital.

After four hours, the coffin lid was closed and wailing from friends and family spilled onto the street. Teammates carried Gathers’ coffin down the church steps and put it into the back of a hearse. The body was taken to Mt. Lawn Cemetery. Finally, after eight long and emotional days, Hank Gathers was laid to rest.

Gathers’ dream was finally over. For Loyola, its dream was to live two more weeks.

There was a side to Gathers that liked to get out and do the things that most 23-year-olds like to do.

He frequented a bar on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood and was infatuated with one of the dancers. Whenever she would perform, Gathers would jump out of his chair and dance. Once, the dancer coaxed him onto the stage with her.

Gathers swung around a pole that was used as a prop for the dancers, but his body was too big for the stage and he bumped his head on the artificial roof. Everyone in the place laughed, including Gathers.

After the performance, the dancer visited Gathers at his table and asked if he wanted to go out. The answer was yes.

“What position do you play?” the dancer asked.

“I play forward or center,” Gathers said.

“Isn’t Magic just the nicest?” she asked.

Gathers was puzzled. How would he know Magic Johnson?

“Yeah, I guess Magic’s nice,” Gathers said.

“Well, you guys have to do real well in the playoffs,” the dancer said.

Gathers knew there was a mix-up.

“I’m Hank Gathers,” he said. “I don’t play for the Lakers.”

The dancer jumped back onto the stage and never returned.

THE AUTOPSY

In Short, It Did Little to Answer the Questions

Eleven days after Hank Gathers’ death, the Los Angeles County Coroner’s office announced the results of its autopsy. It showed a heart muscle disorder called cardiomyopathy. The cause of death was identified as idiopathic cardiomyopathy with residual interstitial myocarditis. The muscle cells had been damaged, causing scarring and enlargement of the heart. The cause, however, is unknown.

The condition can also cause an irregular heartbeat, which can be fatal. Cardiologists say the condition often is caused by a virus. Gersten said that Gathers had the flu two weeks before he died, and friends said Gathers suffered from a bad case of the flu a year ago.

The autopsy also revealed that the heart problem was not congenital. Coincidentally, Aaron Crump, Gathers’ son, had been undergoing tests for a possible heart disorder. The tests later revealed that Aaron did not have a defect.

The initial autopsy report on Gathers did not find the drug Inderal, or propranolol, although it had been prescribed to control an irregular heartbeat. Dr. Ronald N. Kornblum, the chief coroner, ordered more detailed toxicology tests.

Those tests arrived four days later and showed what the coroner’s office reported to be sub-therapeutic levels of Inderal--26 nanograms per milliliter. A therapeutic level is said to be between 50 and 290 nanograms.

Still, a leading expert on beta-blockers and exercise said the results indicated that Gathers probably took Inderal the day he died. Dr. David Lowenthal, chairman of the Department of Geriatrics at the University of Florida, said it was difficult to time the last dosage. But 26 nanograms represented a level that was taken sometime the morning of March 4.

Although the autopsy confirmed cause of death as an unknown cardiomyopathy, Fagel, the Gathers’ family attorney, said medical records do not indicate that Gathers’ condition was diagnosed as such. He said none of the documents list a definite diagnosis, although cardiomyopathy is listed twice as a possible reason for Gathers’ fainting episode on Dec. 9.

Fagel also said Gathers’ discharge papers from Daniel Freeman listed no diagnosis and contained the notation “incomplete.” However, Gathers was still undergoing testing at the time.

In short, the autopsy did little to answer lingering questions. It was becoming more apparent that the courts, if they can, will render the final judgment on Hank Gathers’ death.

THE TOURNAMENT

‘I Never Wanted a Shot to Go In So Bad in My Life’

The team’s flight from Philadelphia back to Los Angeles stopped at McCarron International Airport in Las Vegas. Soon, the players were parked in front of airport slot machines.

Bo Kimble was the luckiest, winning $113 on the dollar slots. Terrell Lowery also did well, taking home a cupful of quarters. The mood was loose, considering it was the same day as the funeral.

The next day at practice, the mood intensified. Lowery and John O’Connell bumped in the lane and ended up shoving each other. Lowery punched O’Connell in the eye, opening a cut that required several stitches to close.

Westhead said it was hard to gauge the collective psyche of the team. He kept telling the players to channel their emotion into the game, to not equate winning with their dedication to Gathers.

The first night of the NCAA West Regional at Long Beach, Loyola had an easy time defeating New Mexico State, 111-92. The players wore black patches with a “44,” a reference to Gathers’ number--on their jersey. Many of the players had something written on their shoes.

On one, Lowery had written “44-ever.” Signs in the stands ranged from “Hank’s Here” to “The Strongest Team in the World.”

In the locker room, someone had written on the blackboard, “The Dream is Alive.”

Early in the second half, Kimble went to the foul line for the first time. He had said he would, as a tribute to Gathers, shoot his first free throw of every game left-handed. Gathers had struggled so much with his right-handed free-throw shooting earlier in the season that he had started shooting free throws left-handed. And with better success.

Kimble’s free throw was perfect and he was embraced by teammates. It was possibly the most emotional moment of the tournament, especially for Westhead.

“I never wanted a damn shot to go in so bad in my life,” the coach said.

The team was beguiling and charming the next day at a news conference. It was clear the Lions were becoming media darlings.

Sunday, they returned to the court with the same ferocity and defeated defending NCAA champion Michigan, 149-115. It was a game they weren’t supposed to win, and here they were, suddenly, in the final 16.

The team then moved to Oakland where it defeated Alabama, 62-60. However, it was a game in which Loyola didn’t play especially well. The Lions were starting to slip off their emotional pedestal. Nevertheless, Loyola was now one of the final eight teams.

Two days later it was over.

Loyola was no challenge for Nevada Las Vegas. The game was a mismatch from the start and Las Vegas, after turning back one run by the Lions that was capped by yet another successful left-handed free throw by Kimble, ran away and won, 131-101.

Fryer and Kimble left the game in the final minute to a loud ovation. Fryer looked disconsolate, Kimble smiled.

Westhead brought Kimble, Fryer and Lowery to the postgame news conference. When they left, the media applauded.

Westhead didn’t say much to the team afterward.

“They don’t need a recap of anything,” he said. “Words are unnecessary.”

Tuesday, the Loyola student body had a small parade for the team with a fire truck taking the team down the campus’ main mall.

Kimble cut down a net--a symbolic gesture they never got to do after the conference tournament. He trimmed the last strand left-handed.

It is said that inside everyone is a kid trying to escape. Hank Gathers was no different.

Even though he seemingly carried the weight of the world, Gathers, at 23, was barely an adult. Some of his favorite times were when he could get away from his dreams and aspirations and just be a kid.

He treasured the long walks he would take at night with the Priamos twins. In fact, he often called himself the third twin. He saw these walks as reaffirmation of their friendship.

One night, in a frivolous mood, the trio wandered onto the Lakeside Country Club course. They decided it was proper to start collecting the flags on each hole. Gathers carried a rake he found next to a sand trap just in case he encountered a coyote or night watchman.

A night watchman showed up before a coyote and the three took off running. They jumped a fence, Gathers almost throwing the twins over first. Once down the street, they laughed heartily at their antics.

But the mood changed when they ran into two Dobermans also on a nighttime prowl.

They cautiously walked backward, knowing they were in a mess. Gathers had a plan. A simple plan, but a plan nonetheless.

“Let’s run,” Gathers said, leading the charge to a nearby fence. The dogs were gaining as they approached a wall, but there wasn’t enough time for all to scale it.

So Gathers stopped and stared at the dogs. The dogs stopped, too, and stared back at this huge man.

“Don’t mess with my mess,” he said. “Come on baby.”

Soon, the dogs backed down, almost as if they knew that he was the strongest man in America.

THE EPILOGUE

‘It’s Unexpected Moments When It Hits You’

On a hill north of Loyola Marymount’s campus, high enough for millions of people in millions of cars to see, a large sign reads “LMU.”

Sometime last week, somebody made that “LMU 44”--Gathers’ 44.

So far, nobody has tried to take the number down; it’s likely nobody will. It seems likely that, for many years to come, his number and the memories it represents will be tightly intertwined with the very existence of this small Jesuit Catholic university.

The first time Westhead saw “LMU 44” was shortly after his team’s return from the NCAA tournament.

“It almost brought tears,” he said. “It’s the unexpected moments when it hits you.”

Indeed, the sorrow of Westhead and people at Loyola Marymount will continue, right through this weekend’s Final Four and, perhaps, through the rest of their lives.

But already, as Gathers’ death becomes more distant, other, more unpleasant things have taken center stage--anger and avarice.

It may have started as early as two days after Gathers’ death when Hagen, speaking at the memorial service at Gersten Pavilion in a lecturing tone, made demands on Loyola Marymount University.

And it may come full circle this week, as every conceivable side lines up with its attorney.

The Gathers family has an attorney, Bruce Fagel. Marva Crump, the mother of Gathers’ son, Aaron, has an attorney, Adrian J. Moody of Philadelphia. Even Eric Wilson Gathers, Hank’s estranged father, has an attorney, Dennis Abrams of Bala-Cynwyd, Pa.

Fagel hopes to have all the documents he needs to conclude his investigation this week. Moody will be in Los Angeles Monday to attend a hearing on the appointment of an adminstrator of Gathers’ estate.

There are also attorneys for the school, attorneys for the school’s insurance company and attorneys for all the doctors involved in Gathers’ pre-death diagnosis and treatment.

Blood relatives, Aaron and his grandmother, apparently are ready to compete for their share of the pie. But nobody is even certain if there will be any pie to cut.

The sides are being chosen, the wagons being circled, the fingers being pointed. All that is left now is for the first gavel to fall, and that may take months, even years.

And even then, there is a strong likelihood that this situation will be settled before it ever reaches a judge or jury.

Loyola had established a fund to help the Gathers family. Officials were hopeful that nearly $500,000 could be raised. However, as soon as the legal posturing began, money to the fund dried up. Some big-money boosters said they tore up their checks when word of legal action surfaced.

But none of these factors can overshadow the way Loyola’s basketball team bounced back from the loss of its leader, the self-proclaimed “strongest man in America,” with its run in the NCAA tournament.

After Loyola’s game with Nevada Las Vegas last Sunday, Bo Kimble was asked what he thought his close friend Hank Gathers would have felt about all of this.

“I think Hank would have had a ball,” Kimble said.