In 1979, in the October hills of Alfred University John Fasano and I were inducted into the Sports Hall of Fame as performers. Today I share with him and many others in the Port Washington Hall of Fame a comradeship, communion of the now and then.

For me induction is from a long time, for my new associates a lesser time. But the same rewards for effort made: dry of mouth and pain for yard or foot or inch on floor or field or track according to the game. Champion gets the final inch when inch defines.

For over 80 years I have played or coached or written about associates in my schools: Searles, Hackley, Port Washington and Alfred University. For 70 of these years I have sent athletes mostly to Alfred but a few escaped to other colleges.

None found greater fulfillment in Port Washington than Joe Teta and Frank Jenkins, MDs. June 29, 1996, I said this at Frank's grave and more in his obituary.

Frankie:

Love has no goodbyes only remembrance. To the end of our days you will continue to bless each of us with the memories and meaning of your life.

Thank you,

Bill

None better fulfilled their Alfred days than John Fasano, his cousin, Joe Fasano and Bart Cosolito. They earned my gratitude 50 years ago. Today I thank them for the hug of fame.

The Hall of Fame is more than memory's praise. It is thanks to those who came before and helped us find the way. They are not anonymous.

No one praised them better than an elderly Unitarian minister who wrote in the Daily Mail, New York City, perhaps one 150 years ago.

"The Bridge Builder"

An old man traveling a lone highway

Came in the evening cold and grey

To a chasm deep and vast and wide

The old man crossed in the twilight dim

For the sullen stream had no fear for him

But when he was safe on the other side

He built a bridge to span the tide

Old man said a fellow traveler near

Why build you this bridge in the even tide?

Your work was done at the close of day

You never again will pass this way

My friend in the path I have come he said

There follows after me a youth

Whose feet must pass this way

He too must cross in the twilight dim

And the sullen stream which was naught for me

May for his steps a peril be

My friend I have build that bridge for him

"Values from Athletics and Beyond Mostly Alfred Then and Now with a Light Touch"

Bill Navin