We Are . . . We Are . . .
That is the enduring legacy of Joseph V. Paterno. Family.
We Are . . . We Are . . .
And it all began early in the last century in a Brooklyn household with a family whose patriarch encouraged his family at every turn to think for themselves, to think their way through a problem, to feel free to disagree but without being disagreeable.
You could be loud but not insulting, loud if the passion rang true and deep, loud if you were defending the indefensible. And so it was on hot summer nights in Brooklyn that the Paterno family would engage in family debate, so spirited that when the windows were up and air conditioning a distant dream, passersby would stop and stand on the sidewalk and listen to the family Paterno as they worked things out.
All those years later, the memories remained.
"I loved the give and take of those nights," Joe Paterno said. "It made the family strong, it reinforced us."
He would take that with him all the way to now, all the way to:
We Are . . . We Are . . .
He came to State College wiry and fiery, with just a hint of cock-of-the-walk strut in his stride, and a shrill, nasal voice he used to defend his position at every turn, certain he had yet to be wrong about anything. He fully intended to be a lawyer, perhaps the next William Jennings Bryan, but somewhere along the line he got sidetracked. The coach called Rip took him on as an assistant.
He lost track of the times Charles A. "Rip" Engle threw him out of the coaches meetings for mouthy insubordination. The coach called Rip always took him back, of course; otherwise, this story would have ended 61 years ago. And then we wouldn't hear:
We Are . . . We Are . . .
He married. For keeps. That's part of being family. You give your word to be there until you come to that part where it says forever. There is a commitment and it is unconditional.
So then, same wife. Same house. Same job. Same school.
