Fridays with Mac: "Lyndi Marie, cute as can be!"

On an absolutely glorious Centennial State early afternoon drive near Boulder, Colorado’s Fairview High School, the only coach to ever lead the CU Buffs to a national title and his driver were passing an elementary school. The young kiddos were being dismissed. All were in Halloween costumes. Awesome. Standing orderly in line waiting for parents to pick them up, I cracked to Bill McCartney, “I can’t believe you taught kids this age.”

Yep. This Friday with Mac had the ol’ coach, who’s fighting the good fight against Alzheimer’s, reminiscing about 1962 and teaching third-grade students at a Joplin, Missouri school. Can you imagine? Billy Mac from Hackensack? Known to “Bark” at players, coaches and reporters? Educating third graders? Holy cow. “They had to put me somewhere so I could coach.” Even Wikipedia doesn’t mention this first job after graduating from the University of Missouri. Our drive had been halted by a crosswalk volunteer bearing a big red “Stop” sign. We had a good minute or so to observe costumed kiddos heading toward home. A smile spread across McCartney’s face. “I was the first male teacher those eight-year-old kids ever had. When I asked a question, everyone would raise their hands because they knew the answers!”

This trip down memory lane for the future Hall of Fame coaching legend stirred recollection of his beloved and beautiful wife of 50 years. “I was 22, Lyndi Marie was 19 and she was a queen!” Indeed she was. Also, so kind and talented in many ways, including writing. I always enjoyed reading her “String a Pearl” blog. Incredible woman who birthed four amazing children and ran the family household while Coach Mac pursued his passion. Idling in the car while the elementary kids marched past in single-file formation, talking about long ago and an eternal love for his departed spouse shifted McCartney’s attention to me. And, an unexpected question, “How did you propose to your wife?”

That brought a huge smile to my face and this prelude. “Coach, you’re gonna like this story because it involves Lyndi.”

Back in 2013, Lyndi was in the final season of life in a battle with emphysema. Meanwhile, your scribe was in Paris with darling girlfriend. She was on a business trip and I had showed up toward the end of the gathering. We were going to spend a few days in the French capitol. Well, prior to leaving Denver for the trans-Atlantic journey, many of her close girlfriends had been encouraging me to take advantage of this trip and ask Kathleen Ann Gans, after a decade of dating, for her hand in marriage. Sometimes these girlfriends, with darling woman within earshot, would exhort me, “You have to ask Kathy to marry you in Paris!” The blunt and direct beauty would always look at me, in a quite serious tone, and respond, “Do not ask me to marry you there.” Okay.

Well, I’m deaf in one ear and don’t listen out of the other. The girlfriend’s advice won out. Despite the verbal objections I went and purchased a ring, stuffed it into my pocket and headed for what’s considered one of the world’s most romantic cities. As we all know, sometimes in life you just have to throw caution to the wind and go for it. I arrived in Paris, checked into the hotel where the successful business executive had been staying for the week, took a quick nap and then headed to the hotel gym to try and shake off jet lag.

At this point, there was no game plan for the proposal. I had no clue when, where and how to ask this awesome human being to marry me. I just knew a ring was secured and it was time to shine. While working out, another guy walked in and starting exercising. We strike up a conversation. Wouldn’t you know it? This fella was an oil and gas attorney from Houston, Texas who does frequent business in France. I asked, “Know of a good spot to propose to my girlfriend around here?” Without hesitation, the kind gentleman offered, “I got the perfect place for you. A church on the north side of Paris, Sacre-Coeur.” I had never heard of the place. My newfound best friend continued as we worked out. “It sits on the highest hill in Paris. At night, from the front steps, you can see the city lights below. It’s the perfect spot.” If you ever get to Paris, check this place out.

Construction began in 1875 and took almost 40 years to finish. It’s made of travertine stone, brilliantly white and one of Paris’ most-visited tourist sites. More investigating and inquiry revealed a highly-regarded restaurant near the church. A random encounter in a Paris hotel gym had birthed a plan: I’ll recommend taking a cab to the restaurant, but first, a quick tour of the beautiful church and, while there, light a candle in prayer for Lyndi. Back in the States, this fantastic female was in the final season of life. After lighting a candle, offering an earnest prayer and finishing the tour, the plan was, once we emerged on the front steps, drop to one knee and take a leap of faith: Ask a women to marry me despite the fact she had stated often, “Not in Paris.”

The next day dawns and the weather absolutely sucks. The “plan” is in jeopardy. Freezing temperatures, rain, fog and wind make strolling through Paris very unwise. We jump into a cab for the 20-minute drive from the hotel to Sacre-Coeur. Upon arrival, we emerge from the vehicle’s shelter into the howling wind, sleet and chilly temperatures. I immediately thrust an umbrella into the air to protect us. Once inside, a candle is lit for Lyndi. A prayer for her well being is offered and then we head for the massive wooden doors opening to the front steps. It’s showtime.

We exit. Kathy, rightfully so, expects protection from the elements via the umbrella. It doesn’t materialize. Startled, the Chicago native quickly turns to find me on one knee, thrusting a ring toward her while blabbing, “Darling, this is the highest point in Paris. The weather sucks tonight but on a good night you can see the lights of the city below. It would be the highest point of my life if you accepted this ring as a sign of my love and devotion. I promise to love, protect and entertain you till death do us part. Will you marry me?”

This gorgeous woman is getting drenched in the inclement weather and offered, “Is this a joke?” I countered, “Nope, this is the authentic.” She countered with, referring to the ring, “Is that real?” Again, the answer was, “Yep.” Finally, perhaps because, rightly so, she desired shelter from the storm, now darling wife, said, “Okay.”

Sharing this story with the 81-year-old buddy brought another huge smile to his face and this simple and powerful word. “Precious.” Just like Mac’s amazing wife. Reflecting back on that fateful evening in Paris always make me think of Lyndi Marie McCartney. Lighting a candle and praying for her inside massive and magnificent Sacre-Coeur gave me courage to follow through with the proposal a few minutes later.

The crosswalk in front of the elementary school had cleared. Two dudes everyone calls “Mac” continued our drive through Boulder on an absolutely gorgeous late October day. Grinning ear-to-ear, almost in unison, we chortled, “Lyndi Marie, cute as can be!” Mac’s adored wife was my guardian angel that fateful day. The point of all this? Be bold in life. Take chances and never forget the importance of, literally or figuratively, lighting a candle and praying for those less fortunate. There’s a bunch of folks out there who could use our encouragement.

Lyndi Marie McCartney. One Mac’s queen, another’s good luck charm and never forgotten for the good she brought to so many. We’d be quite wise to emulate her amazing spirit. #goodbetterbest