Paying Respects in HANK’S HOUSE

Ten years later, it was different at Gersten Pavilion.

This time, Hank Gathers’ No. 44 jersey moved.

It elevated from the ground and kept rising, off the court to the rafters, hoisted to a permanent perch almost directly above the spot he collapsed on March 4, 1990.

In an emotional tribute during halftime of Saturday night’s game against Pepperdine, Loyola Marymount retired the uniform numbers of Gathers and sidekick Bo Kimble, No. 30, heroes of another generation in Lions’ lore.

As a basketball program, Loyola (2-23) has all but vaporized since the Hank and Bo show.

They were always a team, a package, so it was fitting their jerseys go out together.

“This is really overwhelming,” Kimble said to the crowd. “This is one of the greatest moments of my life.”

Lucille Gathers, Hank’s mother, accepted the jersey on behalf of her son.

She blew kisses to the crowd, which chanted “Hank, Hank, Hank.”

“Hank loved this gym, he loved this campus,” Lucille Gathers said. “He worked very hard to get where he was, and I know he’s watching over us now.”

Paul Westhead, who coached Kimble and Gathers, was present but did not speak.

Kimble and Gathers grew up together in Philadelphia, attended Dobbins Tech High School, went to USC together.

Both transferred to Loyola and supercharged Westhead’s frenetic offense. Gathers led the nation in scoring and rebounding in 1989-90, Kimble scored 50 or more points four times in his Loyola career.

Both were headed toward the NBA when fate cut Gathers’ life short.

The partnership ended March 4, 1990, when Gathers fell at Gersten during a West Coast Conference Tournament semifinal game against Portland.

Loyola Marymount was leading, 25-13, with 13:34 left in the first half. Gathers had just scored on a rousing dunk when he backpedaled to midcourt and collapsed.

He was rushed to Daniel Freedman Hospital but pronounced dead at 6:55 p.m.

The coroner’s report ruled the cause of death as myocarditis, a treatable inflammation of the heart.

Sadly, the legacy of Hank and Bo would be tainted by finger-pointing and lawsuits. We would remember more about defibrillators than the mystical moments of that season.

Many things were retired Saturday.

“There’s been some misunderstanding, but that’s in the past,” Kimble said. “We never need to talk about it ever again.”

Gathers’ death triggered an almost otherworldly journey through the NCAA Tournament.

The Lions were stunned, but played on. In their first-round game against New Mexico State, Kimble, a right-handed shooter, made a left-handed free throw to honor Gathers, a poor foul shooter.

“At that moment, I really didn’t care if the ball went over the backboard, to be quite honest,” Kimble said. “I was paying tribute to Hank, it wasn’t about the extra stuff.”

In the second round, Loyola, seeded No. 11 in the West Region, stunned No. 3 Michigan, 111-92, and then defeated Alabama in the round of 16 before losing to Nevada Las Vegas, the eventual national champion.

Kimble’s NBA career didn’t pan out as he hoped, but how many careers of L.A. Clipper draft choices do?

Kimble has other memories to cherish.

“I miss him making me laugh,” Bo said of Hank. “I miss going to war with him. We kicked butt wherever we went.”

Whenever Kimble needs to be reminded, he pops a cassette into the VCR.

“I’ve seen all our tapes,” Kimble said. “It’s not different than when Hank was alive. The No. 1 thing we used to do was, we’d go home and rewind our dunks. Yeah, I watch the tapes all the time. The Loyola memories are the best of my life.”

Gathers was more than a death, more than a story. It affected everyone.

Joe Resnick, a veteran Associated Press writer who was at Gersten Pavilion the night of Gathers’ death, returned Saturday night to cover the ceremony wearing the West Coast Conference media credential he was issued on March 4, 1990.

“It just seemed appropriate,” Resnick said.

Reporters try to stay detached from the stories they cover and, for the most part, Resnick has abided by the creed.

But Saturday night, 10 years later, he heaved sighs as he put the finishing touches on his story.

“It didn’t really get to me until yesterday,” Resnick said. “Until I watched the tapes. I had taped all the news reports. When you’re just sitting there, not involved, it affects you like everyone else.”

Resnick says the left-handed free throw Kimble made to honor Gathers in the first round of the NCAA Tournament ranks among the top five moments he has ever witnessed.

How do you ever forget?

Ed Arnold, the longtime Channel 5 sportscaster, hosted Saturday’s luncheon with Kimble and the Gathers’ family.

Hank and Bo served as summer interns at the station under Arnold’s watch.

Ten years ago, Arnold went on the air and delivered the news of Gathers’ death.

He says no story has so profoundly affected him.

“It was the first time I ever broke down on the air,” he said. “I went to pieces. It’s the only time it ever happened to me. Ten years later, it still affects me.”

It took Lucille years to return to the scene but, no, Saturday was not the first time she had been back to Gersten Pavilion.

In 1994, unannounced, she just showed up with her husband, Edward, one spring day and wanted to go in the gym.

“I just got that feeling that I needed to come back,” she said. “Try to go over some of the things I missed.”

Lucille asked a campus worker to let her in. She remembers the gym floor was being resurfaced. She went to the balcony and sat with Edward for about 45 minutes, then left.

“I recaptured some things I had tried to put out of my mind,” she said.

Her second trip to Gersten Pavilion, on Saturday, was a celebration, but Lucille was torn.

“My son passed out on that court,” she said, “but there were so many good memories.”

Saturday, the memories became museum pieces.

Hank donned No. 44, Bo was No. 30.

Gathers wore the number in tribute to Hank Aaron.

Kimble was No. 32 in high school, and said he was promised the number when he went to USC, but found out upon arrival that Tom Lewis was not going to give it up.

Things at USC didn’t pan out as planned.

Things seldom do.

Lucille was asked if life had cheated her son.

“Hank was a flower that was picked,” she said. “It was time for him to go. He was mine for 23 years.”

And Loyola Marymount’s forever.