A Town in Mourning

When things die in Monessen--the steel industry, downtown, the latest rebuilding plan--there’s not often a lot of hope.

So when Monessen High School football coach Jack Scarvel died at age 66 in October after a heart attack, the town mourned. Its only consolation was that Roger Brandemarte, Scarvel’s top assistant and considered his gregarious iron-willed clone, was ready to take over.

But now, just seven months later, he also is gone, dead at age 41 following treatment for non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

The deaths have devastated this town of 8,699 where high school football is everything.

“It’s been pretty unbelievable. I don’t recall, at least in western Pennsylvania, a sitting high school coach passing away,” said John Sacco, Scarvel’s son-in-law, a free-lance sportswriter and statistician for the Monessen Greyhounds.

“And to have it happen twice is unheard of.”

High school football is the center of social life in Monessen, just like in many towns across the state. About 3,500 fans show up on fall Friday nights to watch the Greyhounds play at their stadium, about 20 miles south of Pittsburgh.

After all, no one wants to miss the next John Lujack, Joe Montana, Joe Namath, Jim Kelly or Dan Marino, all players from western Pennsylvania who went on to greatness.

“The way New York fans are with their Yankees is the way Monessen is with their football,” said Beth Abrahamsen, Brandemarte’s sister-in-law. “Probably because it’s a blue-collar sport. It doesn’t matter if they have somebody down on that field they’re related to or not. On Friday night, everybody’s there.”

So the entire community took it especially hard when Scarvel died Oct. 18 after compiling a 127-57-4 record in 18 years as head coach.

But before hundreds of mourners filed past Scarvel’s coffin in the high school gym, and a 100-car procession escorted his body to the grave, there was a football game to be played.

The Greyhounds took the field wearing black “JS” decals on their white helmets in honor of Scarvel two days after he died. They then beat California High School 12-7.

Brandemarte, who was already undergoing chemotherapy for non-Hodgkins lymphoma when he took over, officially became head coach in January after helping Monessen finish the season 7-3. Things were looking up.

Brandemarte even beat cancer, but he succumbed to a staph infection that racked his body for seven weeks before he died April 30.

“He was hit so hard” by Scarvel’s death, said Brandemarte’s widow, Toni. “For him to suck it up that day and make it through the rest of the season, it just showed how strong he was.

“It took a lot out of him physically. . . . When we found out he was cancer free, it was like, ‘We have it beat.’ But we were wrong.”

Roger Brandemarte left behind three children, Jessa, 13, Roger, 11 and Nicholas, 7.

“He was the love of my life. But as bad as I feel, and as bad as this is for my family, I feel bad for them, too,” Toni Brandemarte said, referring to the still-coachless Greyhounds.

The school board will pick a new coach this summer and most likely will seek the traits of the previous two: father figures who knew when to scold players but also when to give a pat on the back.

“They were just always open to helping people,” said Greyhounds defensive end Keith Kadish, a senior next fall. “People were welcomed in with opened arms, and helped out whenever they could be.”

Sacco, like most residents, is sure of just two things these days: life goes on and the next coach had better be part of “the family.”

“They’re not just coaches, they’re Monessen coaches,” Sacco said. “And I think it’s very important for these kids that the next coach knows them very well.”

Such talk is not mere boosterism. It’s a recognition that decades of economic decline have left some young people with little hope and guidance.

“Those guys do more than coach, because half of those kids need a mentor,” said Joanne Cocciolone, owner of Libby’s Dairy Bar, a lunch-counter convenience store and ice cream parlor.

At Moon’s Inn, a favorite of residents of this shot-and-a-beer burgh, the coaches will be sorely missed.

The bar, owned off and on for 30 years by 82-year-old Lawrence “Moon” Elyanich, is the unofficial social club for coaches and their wives, and a snack bar and hangout for players.

The bar is also home to the ritual pregame meals, pasta and meat sauce--made with sirloin Elyanich and Scarvel would hand-grind.

“That’s why they played pretty good football, I guess. You hate to say it, but some of them don’t get too much to eat at home,” Elyanich said. “Some of them needed a father . . . and he’d make sure if any of them got into trouble, he’d go down to the house and bring them to school.”

As Monessen continues to mourn the two coaches and wonder who the next one will be, Brandemarte’s daughter Jessa has a message for everyone, something she can’t quite explain to friends at school.

“It feels weird to be back . . . with people looking at me sad and not knowing what to say,” Jessa said. “I’d just like to tell them, everything’s fine. We’re getting through it all together.”