The Death of a Grand Salesman

Last Sunday, May 2nd, as I was on the golf practice range at The Coves, a siren wailed in the background. As it turned out, it was responding to a call from the home of Coves resident Mike Morrison, who had suffered a massive heart attack. In spite of efforts to revive him by those first on the scene, and emergency responders, Mike was pronounced dead and a huge void had been created for his family and anyone who had come to know “The Bear.” Mike’s funeral was the following Wednesday and was as unique as the life the man had lead. Although I had become acquainted with Mike on the golf course, and for anyone who has ever played or socialized with him in any manner, that was an experience in itself, I learned a lot more about the real Mike Morrison after the fact. Some men are physically large and cast the expected large shadow when they block certain rays of sunlight on the first tee. Then there are those who cast a much larger shadow because of a presence that reaches far beyond poundage, height or girth. That, in a nutshell, was Mike Morrison. The king of the one liner, the lover of life to its fullest, the owner of that infectious smile and a twinkle in the eye, and most of all, a people person to the max. As I sat there in the Cleora United Methodist Church, I listened as friend after friend recounted their experiences which had endeared Mike to each of them. But the comments by his brother Steve, who resides in Hickory North Carolina, and his son Rob, who calls Oklahoma City home, were the most revealing. Steve recounted how Mike had been recognized as an All American high school tight end, which was destined to play for his beloved Razorbacks at the University of Arkansas. How a serious knee injury derailed that dream, and along with the untimely death of his father, leads him back to Little Rock, where he assumed the role of father and mentor for Steve and his two younger brothers, who all ended up participating in Razorback athletic programs. And in his spare time, while attending the University of Arkansas at Little Rock and earning his degree in Business Administration, he was recognized as golf All American in 1967-68. It was almost as though he was describing a team…..Team Morrison with an undisputed captain….and that captain was now gone. Rob’s comments gave testimony to a Mike Morrison which many of us had never seen. The father and husband, the brother, the friend, the companion, the patriarch and the ultimate family man. And Rob also assured his mother, Gigi, and the love of Mike’s life for nearly forty-three years, the family would be there for her. Professionally, Mike was a salesman through and through. The art of salesmanship had been instilled in him at an early age while traveling on road trips with his father, who was a representative for Elgin Watches. Mike’s dad had been recognized as Elgin’s Salesman of the Year on more than one occasion. And Mike was, as they say, “Was a chip off the old block.” Mike had been a sales representative for various furniture lines for over forty years. He had been recognized as Salesman of the Year by several different companies, with the most recent being this year. But as old marketeer, I always believed the perception of your clientele was much more important than the number of plaques on the wall. For me, the testimony given by Bill Mathis, of Mathis Brother’s Furniture and both brothers were in attendance, spoke volumes about Mike’s stature in his profession. This character did cast a large shadow in so many ways? As I mentioned, the service for Mike was unique. A Catholic’s services in a Methodist Church, testimonials about mooning, shank instruction, how to build the world’s largest drink from a fifth of whiskey and a two liter bottle of mixer, when told to cut it down to one a day and a slide presentation accompanied by Frank Sinatra crooning out “I Did It My Way.” And so he did. Personally, for me I will miss the bantering back and forth the most. But hearing Mike once describes my latest affliction of the shanks as being similar to football was priceless when he said. “Your game reminds me of a wishbone quarterback pitching out to the trailing halfback!” I will always cherish that memory. Jim Gray described those experiences as jabs, but others might describe it in other terms. But Mike also cared deeply about people. My most memorable experience was the day he asked me to introduce him to my son, Jay, who is a teacher and coach. I thought OMG, what could he possibly be going to say? They had a great conversation about coaching, gastric by-pass surgery, being diabetic and about the limitations of having me as his father. He listened intently to what Jay had to say, offered up some experiences of his own and added another notch in his gun of friendship. For the family and friends of Mike Morrison, the void will be enormous, but I feel certain Mike would encourage them to move on, cherish the memories and Grand Times orchestrated by “The Bear” and continue living life to its fullest. As one of Mike’s brothers said, Pat I think, “Gigi, you are a Saint!” Thanks for the ride “Big Mike.” I only hope that Bear’s Den Three is in heaven, where pars and birdies abound, bogies hardly ever happen and doubles are not allowed. But I have to admit some concerns I have about the entrance interview with St. Peter. I can only imagine what your opening line might have been with a guy with a name such as that. But I’m convinced that by the time the ultimate sales call had ended, he had asked for sale and had St. Peter’s name on the dotted line. So long “Big Mike.” See Ya’ Around the Pond!!