Famous People You Might Meet in Eternity

By Tony A. Powers

When former sportscaster Tony Powers went into surgery for a minor knee repair, he had no idea he would make a side trip to eternity. Once the pretty nurse placed the anesthesia mask over his face and told him to take a few deep breaths, Tony was blasted into the heavens like an astronaut aboard a rocket at Cape Canaveral.He couldn't believe how beautiful it was. He saw a cacophony of rainbow colors and a brilliant dazzling white cloud in the distance. He noticed millions of people of all ages, colors, and creeds as they walked toward the cloud on their way to judgment day. It wasn't long before Tony recognized famous actors, actresses, world leaders, historical figures, coaches, and athletes on their way to judgment.Was all this just an anesthesia-induced dream or a figment of his imagination? Had he been carried into the heavens suspended between life and death? Had Tony been thrust into the third dimension known as the Twilight Zone? Had Tony Powers crossed into eternity?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098073220

Book preview

Chapter 2

Nile Kinnick

You’re Nile Kinnick, I said. They named the University of Iowa stadium after you in 1972, and there’s a street named in your honor in your hometown of Adel, Iowa. It’s called Nile Kinnick Drive. I drove on it a few times. I’m from Iowa too.

His face lit up with recognition when I mentioned Iowa.

Were you an Iowa Hawkeye fan? he asked.

"Well, kind of. I’m Tony Powers and I worked as a sportscaster with Jim Zabel at WHO Radio and TV in Des Moines. Jim and one of your teammates named Al Couppee talked about you often. Al gave me my start in broadcasting at KGTV in San Diego where he was the sports director. He constantly talked about you and said if you had lived, you would have become a future president of the United States. I worked for him about two years.

Jim hired me and I moved back to Iowa and covered Iowa football at Kinnick Stadium in the late 1970s and all of the ’80s. Hayden Fry was the head coach then. They made a big bronze bust of you that sits outside the stadium. You’re a real legend in Iowa, Mr. Kinnick, and I’ve read several books about your life.

Call me Nile, he said. So you worked with Al. He was the quarterback on our 1939 Ironmen team. He was a real rough tough guy and a Navy veteran. What’s he doing now?

I looked around at the mass of humanity that moved by us.

I think he’s up here somewhere with us. Al passed away in 1998, and Jim died in 2013, last year. Maybe we should look around and try to find them up here, I replied.

We’ve got plenty of time for that, he said. My life ended pretty abruptly and, as you can see, I’m still making my way to judgment.

He held out a weathered football that looked like one used in the 1930s.

You want to play some catch?

Won’t we lose our place in line? I asked.

He chuckled.

As I said, we’ve got plenty of time for that. You forget we’re in eternity.

We found a meadow that I swear resembled the Garden of Eden. Luscious-looking fruit hung from the apple and pear trees. I didn’t know you could be hungry when you were dead. I noticed a few huge snakes curled around some of the tree branches. There was a rectangular field with the greenest grass you could ever imagine, all nicely cut and trimmed like a football gridiron. All that was missing were the goalposts and bleachers. Around the field was a scattered cornucopia of beautiful impatiens, wildflowers, daylilies, and wild roses. There were nearby fields of glorious yellow sunflowers all opened up and pointed toward the heavens like souls ready to be called up. You couldn’t think of a better place to play catch with the great Nile Kinnick.

I have to admit it was a little rough to run some short pass patterns in my hospital garb and injured knee, but Kinnick threw nice soft passes with a tight spiral. He even ran a few pass patterns himself and was so fast that I underthrew him. He wasn’t a very big guy, maybe one hundred seventy pounds, but he made up for it with speed and quickness. I tried to work up the nerve to ask him about his death. I didn’t want to make the same mistake that I made with President Kennedy. Finally I thought I’d be very diplomatic.

Nile, do you mind if I ask you a personal question? I asked.

He started to throw another short pass but paused and reflected a moment like he’d read my mind.

I know. You want to know how I died, he said. "I’ll tell you. It happened June 2, 1943. I was almost twenty-five and a Naval aviator on the USS Lexington. I took off on a training flight over the Gulf of Paria in Venezuela. My plane started to leak tons of oil. I had no choice but to ditch. The problem is if you don’t land on water just right, it’s like crashing into concrete. The impact probably knocked me out and I drowned when the plane went under. I see they never recovered my body. Can I ask what happened to you?"

I went in for a minor knee repair and the anesthesia killed me.

My God, you’ve got to be kidding me, he laughed.

His laugh was contagious. He pointed at my hospital gown.

They could have at least provided you with some decent traveling clothes, he mused.

I’d give anything for a decent shirt and a pair of pants, I deadpanned.

We continued to play some catch, and I asked him about his 1939 Heisman Trophy.

Your Heisman Trophy speech was pretty special and very good. It was very patriotic. I’ve heard it several times.

He stopped throwing and stared at me for a moment with sad eyes. I could see that it was hard for him to talk about the award and his life, which ended tragically when he was so young.

I wanted to live and become a lawyer and possibly a politician. I wanted to marry and have a great life on earth, but that didn’t happen. Don’t get me wrong. I was glad to have won the Heisman and died while serving my country, but life’s so precious. His voice trailed off. I wish God had let me live, but that wasn’t in his great plan. If I could have flown back to the carrier, I think I could have landed the plane. Oh well, I could have been killed later in a dogfight or something like that. What year did you die?

This year, 2014.

I watched him as he figured in his head.

My God, I’ve been dead seventy-one years, he replied. It’s like it happened yesterday, and I still haven’t made it to judgment day. I’ve been on that road seventy-one years and still have a long ways to go. It’s like time stood still up here. I wonder when I’ll finally get there. Heck, I’m in no hurry. Tell me, what were the Iowa campus and stadium like when you last saw it?

It’s a beautiful campus, you’d think you were in heaven, I said with a chuckle. "The old capitol is still there with a gold dome, and they remodeled Iowa—I mean Kinnick Stadium. It seats seventy thousand now, and there is a magnificent press box with suites. The University of Iowa Hospital sits right across the street from the stadium and is one of the best hospitals in the nation.

There are now fourteen teams in the Big Ten Conference with two divisions. Iowa and Minnesota are in the west division. Nebraska, Maryland, and Rutgers all joined the conference. The Big Ten now stretches across two thirds of the country. There are what they call the Power Five conferences now in college football—the Big Ten, Big-12, Pac-12, Southeastern Conference, and Atlantic Coast Conference. At the end of the season, the top four teams will play for the national title. They even have instant replay. The games are recorded, and officials can review controversial calls.

He lofted another short pass toward me.

Wow, really, he said. What about Notre Dame?

"They’re still an independent in football and they have their own television network just like the Big Ten. Iowa and Notre Dame quit playing each other in the early 1960s. What was your favorite game in that 1939