COLUMN: Remembering Earl Lindley
Though I didn’t know him well, he was a great man.
Like most who read this column, I had no idea who he was until recently.
I met Earl during the summer of 2011, just over six short months ago. I had just been hired as the sports editor at The Utah Statesman and assigned myself as the football beat writer, which of course wouldn’t take effect until school resumed in the fall. I was living in Logan and working my life away at minimum wage for ridiculous hours to afford another semester or two at this wonderful university.
As to not let my writing skills deteriorate to the point of disrepair, I wrote freelance articles for the Smithfield Sun online journal. One possible assignment was to write a profile feature story on a man named Earl Lindley.
I knew nothing about this man whom I had an opportunity to profile, but a quick Internet search told me he was a Utah State University graduate who had a short but storied career in the Canadian Football League.
I love sports and was excited to learn there was a retired professional athlete who lived just a short drive away from my apartment. I quickly emailed my editor and claimed the assignment before anyone else had a chance.
I looked up the number and called the Lindley residence. Earl’s wife Marilyn answered, and in one of the sweetest grandmother voices I’ve ever heard, she invited me to their home to talk with both her and her husband.
In the well-kept Smithfield home, I felt nothing but welcome from the second I pulled into the driveway to the minute I left, with a plateful of goodies that I was instructed to share with my roommates.
I spoke with both Marilyn and Earl about his time playing multiple sports at USU. Earl “the horse” Lindley told stories of his time playing tough, both offense and defense, for head coach John Ronning’s football team as a teammate to LaVell Edwards and David Kragthorpe — men whose names I knew well. He shared with me conversations he had with reporters back East who refused to believe a boy from Utah could lead the nation in scoring.
He told stories of how he turned down a chance to play with the Chicago Bears in the NFL, because he didn’t want to play on Sundays and interrupt his religious worship. He humbly shared with me how he helped Edmonton win their first ever Grey Cup — the CFL’s Super Bowl — in his first season with the team in 1954.
Earl “the pearl” helped the Eskimos win three straight championships before his career was cut short in 1957 by a shoulder injury.
Earl and Marilyn traded off every few sentences — often in the middle of a thought — in telling me the story of how they were married during a bye week so as not to interrupt football practices during the autumn of his sophomore season.
In the same narrative fashion, they shared with me how Earl’s right hand was crippled in an accident when he was young. I asked Earl if it was difficult for him to play with only five working fingers, but he frankly replied it never bothered him, because all he ever remembered was being a southpaw.
One of Marilyn’s more memorable stories took place after the Eskimos won one of their Grey Cups. All the players wives were given fancy fur coats, but Marilyn elected to stand out and choose a different color and style than the other women.
The happy couple shared stories of their children and grandchildren. I was happy to hear that Aggie football player Brad Theurer, who was then a third- or fourth-string tight end, was among their incredibly athletic progeny. USU volleyball player Nicole Gneiting also belonged to the family — if only by marriage.
In the short time I spent with the Lindleys, I felt as if I had known them for years from all the stories they shared with me. When I learned earlier this week that Earl died, I was shocked. He didn’t seem sickly or unwell by any stretch of the imagination; rather, he was full of life and light.
I am sad to know he passed away, but I am happy to have met one of the greatest men to ever call themselves an Aggie. Earl is one of the men of which our very own school song celebrates.
In the sense of loving the spot where the sagebrush grows, he is the truest Scotsman whose story I am honored to tell.
Rest in peace, Earl. Thank you for what you have done for Utah State University.
– Tavin Stucki is a sophomore majoring in journalism and is the sports editor at The Statesman. He is an avid Aggie fan and has been since birth. Follow him on twitter at @stuckiaggies and send any comments to tavin.stucki@aggiemail.usu.edu.