GAIL WHITE Part of a team: life lessons from basketball and war

Charlie Butler has learned a lot from basketball.
He learned the game can take you from a south side, inner-city school in Chicago to Mount Carmel Catholic High School on a prettier side of that town, tuition-free.
He learned that being a top scorer at Mount Carmel can get you a ride to South Bend, Ind., the home of the University of Notre Dame's Fighting Irish.
Playing basketball at Notre Dame, Charlie learned about professional basketball.
Sound like a familiar story?
Well, it's not.
Actually, Charlie never played for the National Basketball Association. There was no NBA back in 1943 when Charlie was graduating from college. He would become a part of the National Basketball League, a professional basketball league from 1937 to 1949 that was the precursor to the NBA.
Part of a team
Yet, it is his years in between Notre Dame and the NBL that the real lessons of basketball came into play for Charlie.
"Ever since I can remember I'd wanted to be a coach, and I figured the Navy would be the last place I'd get any experience for it," Charlie writes back in 1945 from an island in the South Pacific. "However, I found myself with an L.C.T. [Landing Craft Tank] and a crew about the size of a basketball squad...
"The crew's ages range from 17 to 34 years old. They are different nationalities, creeds and way of life. These men eat, sleep and work together day after day on this small ship. So you see it would be easy to get on one another's nerves. I found myself telling them many of the things [my coaches] told us before a big game -- about the importance of teamwork, quick thinking and the advantages of helping one another. And, in a small way, received the pleasures a coach receives when he has a good, hard-working ball club.
"It's a thrill to play with a strong team that has good reserves, even if you only play a small part. ... It isn't difficult to realize the tremendous thrill that comes with seeing and being not with one or two, but thousands of truly great heroes.
"Not the kind that have their pictures in the paper or their names in headlines. But the kind that hit these little islands on their 'D-day' knowing that if their name does get in print it will be at the top of a little white cross.
"You quickly sense what an all-American hero is when you see some of these young lads come out a few hours after hitting a beach, badly hurt. You'd think they'd be cursing the world, but they don't have one word of complaint. And when you see high-ranking officers anxious to give up their sack so that one of these lads can rest a little easier, you know you're part of a big team, a team with feeling."
Awarding career
While in the war, Charlie longed to be back with a five-player team on a basketball court, yet he never forgot the significance of being a part of that "big team."
Plaques on the wall of Charlie's study denote his success on the basketball court. He was the 1943 captain of the Notre Dame basketball team and one of the pioneers of today's NBA. His name graces the Mount Carmel Hall of Fame in Chicago, Chicago Catholic League Hall of Fame, Chicago Area's Man in the Arena and the Youngstown Curbstone Coaches' Hall of Fame.
Yet, along with the plaques commemorating his sports accomplishments, there are just as many plaques and ribbons commemorating Charlie's dedication to that "big team", a Kiwanis Club award and a Special Olympic volunteer "Hugger" ribbons. He is a Meals-on-Wheels volunteer and can always be found lending a helping hand after Mass at St. Edward Church.
"I wish it were possible to have a referee out here to give these Marines a free shot every time a foul was committed," Charlie wrote of one of the greatest lessons he learned back in 1945. "But I share the feeling with most of the boys that there is an unseen Referee, who is just and will see that those who have played so hard and have given so much will receive a reward comparable to their efforts."
At 82, Charlie doesn't play much basketball anymore. But he just put a new hoop outside his house.
"For the grandchildren," he smiles.
Those grandchildren have no idea how much that hoop is going to teach them.
gwhite@vindy.com