Franco Harris grinned as he sat in front of his likeness frozen in the moment of his history- defining play. The process of sculpting his face for the statues at Pittsburgh International Airport and the Western Pennsylvania Sports Museum was a tedious one, he said.
Harris remembered breathing through two straws stuck up his nose as dental alginate sat on his face. He had a plaster-like material on his face. The oil on his skin was supposed to make it easier to remove the dried cast, but some of his beard and eyebrow hairs were still in the mask when the artist removed it.
Harris chuckled and said that it wasn't bad until they tried to take it off. The beard hair grew back.
Harris sat across from me and talked about the statue and what it meant to him.
It was supposed to be up for six months or a year, but it didn't happen. I'm still alive.
Dok said his dad died overnight. It was very strange to wake up and find out the news. He was with me. He was gone, how could he be gone?
Harris' schedule and enthusiasm for life did not show that he was slowing down. The twinkle in his eye was the same as the stories he was telling. He had lined up many appearances and events this week for the 50th anniversary of the reception.
The same museum where Franco Harris talked with me Tuesday morning was the site of a sold-out panel on Franco Harris and the Immaculate Reception: 50 Years Later. His friends and family were invited to a small dinner at the museum this week.
On Friday, the anniversary of the play, there would be a screening of a documentary about his life, followed by a public ceremony at the site.
At halftime of the game against the Las Vegas Raiders, Harris' number would be retired, making him the third player in the history of the team to have his number retired.
That made the news all the more shocking.
"I don't think they're just putting people up at the airport," said defensive captain CAMERON WARD. Franco was the man. He always looked at so many other people when he received awards. It was great to meet him. He respected people after him. He always welcomed everyone, even if he had to do it his way.
Every person in the city was respected by him. When you talked to Franco, he was just as humble as you were. Today, we lost a good one.
If the Fort Pitt Tunnel is the city's front door, Harris' airport statue is the doorman, greeting travelers to a region he embodied with a play that transformed a tough-luck franchise into a dynasty.
The statue connects the old generation of football fans, like the ones who were there that day, to the football novices, giving parents and grandparents an opportunity to educate their descendants about the miracle play. Christian Brennan, a Pennsylvania native who lives in Denver, introduced his son to Harris and his statue.
He wasn't sure he understood the significance. It is a good memory for me.
Brennan points out Harris' statue to his son when he passes it in the airport.
The two men recorded an episode for the podcast.
He told me that I couldn't touch him just in practice. "Franco, you're not playing football right now, I'm just like, 'Franco, you're not even playing football right now,'" He had a competitive spirit and you just felt like he wanted to be there for you.
Harris had a good relationship with everyone.
It was obvious to me after our interview.
Brian Cook and his daughters waited quietly while Harris spoke and then asked for a photo in front of the statue. They got a history lesson before getting a picture.
He asked the girls what they knew about the 70s.
Reese thinks his mother was born that day.
Their dad told them he was born in the 70s. Harris asked the girls about the quarterback who threw him the reception and his number. Harris told them about how he played golf for the first time when he was a student at Penn State after taking the picture.
Dana reminded Harris a couple of times that they needed to go to their next event as he chatted with the Cook family. Harris was not prepared to leave.
He told the Cooks that a 9-iron was the correct club for a shot from 250 yards, and a 3-iron was the correct club for a shot closer to the green. He told them that he played with Mitchell.
Dana removed her husband from the group and the Cooks, who were visiting Pittsburgh from their home in Northern Virginia for the day, continued on their tour.
The girls went to the gift shop to pick out a shirt and hoodie before they left. Brian sent me a picture of the two people.
In front of their Christmas tree, Mimi and Reese wore their new gear that said "Franco's Italian Army".
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