"Cherish the bridge that brought you across. And we believe if you put God first, everything will work out. And so far, it sure has."* -- Lucille McNair, on her son Steve's NFL draft day, April 22, 1995, in New York City
And it is still working out, mind you, for Lucille McNair, even in her crater of pain.
She remained in Mt. Olive, Miss., in her home on Thursday while three of her remaining sons -- Fred, Tim and Jason -- oversaw memorial services for McNair in Nashville, Tenn. The youngest of her sons, Michael, stayed close by her side. He insisted, she said. He would not leave her.
McNair's final funeral service on Saturday in Mississippi is enough for his mother. Yes, one goodbye will suffice. One rite will do.
Though Mt. Olive is a tiny town, it cannot wholly insulate her from the raw side, the austere views of her son's murder. The view that focuses on his cheating in marriage costing his life. The one that insists his murder was not a "mistake" but a declaration of his moral integrity. The focus that his love and honor and fortune and fame were engulfed by his hypocrisy.
This mother's loving bond with her son was so strong that those ideas can never be part of the bridge she cherishes. They can stick with her no more than rapid wind that blows through smoke.
