Three hours ago, midnight, I returned from the major annual fundraiser of the Yale Cancer Center. This is the seventh consecutive black-tie gala that I have attended, and each one seems better than the previous one – if only because I am still able to be there. And each year, I am always struck by the doctors, patients and families in the cancer community that so bravely deal with life-threatening diseases. These are truly exceptional people, and right now, I am about to write about an individual who is by far and away one of the most exceptional persons that you could ever know. His life, alone, has meant life to thousands, and yet, some of his most successful and meaningful work occurred while he battled multiple myeloma. Eventually, the disease won that battle, but the more I think about, I believe that Ron Burton really never lost because his legacy goes on – long after his passing.

“Don’t start with a negative. I miss that.” These are the words of JoAnn Burton recalling the positive and uplifting philosophy of her late husband and hero, Ron Burton. When JoAnn was a freshman at the University of Illinois at Evanston, she went to a party at nearby Northwestern with her girlfriend. A number of athletes were at the party, but she wasn’t especially impressed – she never really followed sports. But then, she saw one young handsome man who might have had other beverage options but was actually drinking a glass of milk. She said to her friend, “A glass of milk? Who is that person? I really want to get to know him.”

Looking back at that day, JoAnn said, “He really caught my eye. I couldn’t believe at this party that someone was actually opting to drink a glass of milk. From that moment, I never took my eye off of him.” The young milk-drinking student was Ron Burton who received 47 offers to play college football when only a few short years earlier, his nickname was “Nothing.” Ron Burton became one of the greatest athletes to play at Northwestern, and an even greater humanitarian who really raised the bar for so many others to follow. He was some “Nothing.”

Ron Burton grew up in Springfield, Ohio. He had very little to his name – clothes, shoes, even athletic skills. He couldn’t catch or throw. In the seventh grade he cried because of all the rejection, and during those years, his classmates gave him the name “nothing.” Burton said of those years, “I would lose at everything, and I would cry when I lost. I was the only kid in school who they wouldn’t give a uniform. Finally, they felt sorry for me and gave me one.” During those years, he watched his mother die from breast cancer, and his father had suffered a stroke. He and his brother then lived with his grandmother and uncle. His grandmother turned out to be a pillar of strength – she was even a street preacher. Burton’s sense of values and strong faith developed from these years with his grandmother. But the family was as poor as they come.

While in the eighth grade, he finally had the chance to play in the last game of the season. The three players ahead of him were hurt, and there was less than a minute left in the game. Burton got one carry and gained 10 yards. Burton said, “Those 10 yards were the most important 10 yards of my life.” A coach liked his spirit, and told him if he really wanted to make something of himself, he should get up before dawn and run six or seven miles each day – including summer. Burton took that advice, and by the time he reached high school, that “nothing” really turned into something – something very special. He became a star half-back. During his senior year, he was considered the best player in all of Ohio, and he was courted by dozens of colleges, including Ohio State.

One of Ron’s three sons, Steve, likes to tell how Woody Hayes, the storied coach of Ohio State, frequently sent a limousine for Ron so that he could attend the Ohio State games. For two years, Woody brought Ron to the big game with the hope that he would choose Ohio State. Ron’s dad was certain his son would be going to the fabled football school. After all, everyone was in awe of Woody Hayes. He was a legend. But then, a high school track coach told Ron that he owed it to himself to talk with another legendary coach, Ara Parseghian, who just began to coach at Northwestern. Ron’s father was very upset. How could Ron give up the opportunity of playing at Ohio State and turn away from the overtures of someone like Coach Hayes? But Ron did make the trip to Evanston, at first, more of a courtesy than anything else. Then he spoke with Parseghian who showed him the schedule, and said to him, “I need you to help shut them down – Ohio State, Oklahoma, Michigan. We can do it.” Ron was impressed, especially because Northwestern had the worst record in the conference, and this coach was going after those with the best records. It was Ron’s nature to line up with the underdog.

He embraced the challenge, returned home and told his dad that he was going to Northwestern. His father said, “You are breaking my heart.” Then Ron said, “But I promised Coach Parseghian I would.” His father was convinced that his son was making the biggest mistake of his life.

Ron’s first season was rough. Northwestern didn’t win a single game, and the game against Ohio State was a fiasco. Woody Hayes kept his first stringers in from the very start, and Ohio State chalked up a score of 55 to 6. Steve Burton says that Woody Hayes was sending a message to his dad during that game. After that game, Ron said, “I would die on a football field before I ever let Woody Hayes do that to me again.” Hayes never did. During the very next season, Northwestern beat Ohio State, as well as Michigan and Oklahoma. With Ron Burton, Northwestern went undefeated for the first 7 games of that season and, over the next two years, became national champions – after being in the conference cellar just a year before. Ron became a football legend at Northwestern and eventually was inducted into the College Hall of Fame. In 1959 he was named NCAA Back of the Year, nominated for the Heisman Trophy, and selected unanimously for College All-American. But through these years of setting records on the field, he never lost sight of who he was as a person. He kept his strong religious faith and sang daily in the church choir. JoAnn fell in love with Ron, who she affectionally calls Ronald. But, they didn’t date too much at first. Ron said to young people, “You can do your studies. You can be an athlete, or you can go on dates. But you can’t do all three.”

So, it came as a surprise when Ron called JoAnn from Boston. It was 1960, and he was just drafted by the newly formed Boston Patriots. He wanted JoAnn to join him in Boston. She did, and according to JoAnn, “It was a whirlwind romance.” There were married and over the years had five children – fours sons and one daughter – all of whom graduated from Northwestern.