Goodbye, Coach
Columnist Paula Burkes fondly remembers Midwest City High School track and basketball coach Bob Ambler.
My beloved Midwest City High School track and basketball coach Bob Ambler passed away Friday night at age 93. Though four decades have passed since I graduated high school, I can close my eyes and see him perfectly, jogging his signature mile in the setting sun at the close of one of our countless spring track practices.
At 6 feet 8, and upward of 225 pounds for most of his life, Coach Ambler had a larger than life stature — and spirit. A World War II vet, Ambler went on the GI Bill to the University of Arkansas, where he lettered in football, basketball and track.
The outpouring on Faceback of sympathy and memories has been extraordinary. Ambler influenced thousands of students and athletes over his 30 years (19521982) as a science teacher and coach with Midwest City Public Schools. “A fine gentlemen” ... “Big Bob” ... “Gentle Giant” and “favorite teacher” were common to many posts.
My 1977 classmate Chuck Moon remembers: “Bob was full of surprises. He walked up behind me one day in the hall by the cafeteria and picked me up by my head and kept walking as I dangled from his frying pan hands. Another time, he filled my hands with bubbles that were filled with oxygen and ignited them, which lit up a huge fire ball to my surprise. Then, while demonstrating how the biceps was actually two muscles, he rolled my biceps as I watched it cramp up in a big knot and shiver, while everyone standing around gasped.”
Classmate Kerri Gilmore Harris recalls Ambler standing under the basketball goal and slapping players' legs if they jumped off the wrong one on a lay up. He'd say calmly, “Next time, jump off the leg that stings.”
Meanwhile, classmate Kirby Keith received many “monadnocks” from Ambler for cutting up in class. Ambler would form his sizable knuckles into his version of a monadnock hill formation and thump students atop the head.
“It hurt,” said Steve Black, from another graduating class. “I got a couple and deserved them.”
J Russell Tribble remembers that each year for the Christmas Variety Show, Ambler would gather several senior athletes, have them dress as hillbillies and perform “Razorback Steak.” The chorus went something like, “If you think it's tender, you're crazy. You can't stick your fork in the gravy. Razorback Steak, Razorback Steak. Lost all my teeth on that Razorback Steak. It's tough as can be. Made a man out of me. Give me some more of that Razorback Steak!”
Ambler inspired the teaching careers of many, including my twin sister who taught science for 23 years here and in Boston. Jon Robinson said Ambler’s advanced biology class carried him through all his biology classes at the University of Oklahoma. Neil Garrett credits him for his becoming a geologist, and Dan Caram said Ambler is why he became an educator and coach.
Mary Clem Good Morris was in Ambler’s biology class right after President John F. Kennedy was killed. “He got out his guitar and played and sang. It was very touching,” she said.
Charlie Willey, whom Ambler fondly nicknamed Wild Man Willey, never will forget Ambler’s fishing trips, the "line up and run one more 440,” or his frog dissections.
Science and the mechanics of sports aside, the biggest impact Ambler made on all of us was on our character.
He gave of himself, whether it was voluntarily teaching a night nature study class in which he showed students how to craft their own fishing lures or hunting bows, calling basketball practices for 6 a.m., taking kids to Lake Tenkiller on fishing and camping trips, or trotting a class out to the parking lot to show them how to change a flat tire.
He used to fondly refer to us girls on the basketball and track teams as “weak sisters” — words that rang in my head when I gutted my way through three Boston marathons. And he taught us the importance of time management — once making my sister and I, who were starting guards on the half-court sophomore girls basketball team, sit the bench until three minutes left on the clock, because we were tardy for the pregame warm-up.
I’m so glad I recently got to kiss Coach Ambler and tell him how much I loved him at a tribute organized by 1960 graduate John Meyer at the Midwest City Community Center four and half years ago, and at my 40th high school reunion in July to which I invited him.
We communicated fairly regularly via email. He was as sharp as ever, and still taking every opportunity to teach science.
Bob Ambler’s memorial service will be 3 p.m. Saturday at Barnes Frederich Funeral Home, 1820 S Douglas Blvd. I‘m sure a slew of his former students and athletes will be there; his 2013 tribute drew 175. After the service, I just may jog a victory lap at Jim Darnell Stadium at Rose Field in his honor.
RIP, Coach Ambler.