Duck Fan Receives 'Christmas Miracle'
12/25/17 | Football, @GoDucksMoseley
Planning to give up his season tickets while undergoing cancer treatment, a lifelong Oregon fan had his seats renewed last week by an anonymous benefactor.
When the final horn sounded, and Oregon's historic Civil War victory was complete, Jay Trunnell began to say his goodbyes.
Goodbye to a lifetime of cheering on the Ducks, whether the stakes were a War for the Roses, or even just a Toilet Bowl. Goodbye to Section 14 in Autzen Stadium, which had become home for Trunnell as a season-ticket holder, first alongside his father in 1982, and later with his daughter Jackie. Goodbye to a family tradition of rooting for the Ducks that began at Hayward Field, back when it hosted UO football, and continued at that hallowed venue decades later cheering on Steve Prefontaine.
In 2015, Trunnell was diagnosed with colon cancer. Paying for treatment didn't leave much in the budget for football tickets. Jackie did her part to keep the tradition going, chipping in for her own ticket the last couple seasons. But in 2018, Jackie is getting married. Something had to give. The decision was made, prior to this fall, that it would be the last for the Trunnells as UO season-ticket holders.
Section 14, Row 28, is more than a bare bench in the northeast corner of Autzen Stadium. To the Trunnells, it's a place to celebrate tradition, and family, and the new friends they made there. On his way to the stadium each Saturday, Trunnell would buy brownies, to pass around at halftime. During this year's Civil War, the brownies were accompanied by handshakes and hugs, and solemn goodbyes.
"We kind of had to let the cat out of the bag," Trunnell said. "To all our old friends sitting with us, I said, this isn't something we're doing because we want to. But there was a good chance we'd be giving up our seats after all these years.
"I do believe in Christmas miracles," he recalls adding, almost as an after-thought. "And look what happened."
Last week, a call came from the Oregon Athletics ticket office. Trunnell figured it was a sales pitch. He prepared to deliver the bad news: The Trunnells didn't plan to renew their season tickets. But the caller had a different message. Trunnell's Christmas miracle had arrived.
An anonymous donor had written a check, for both of Trunnell's season tickets, and the accompanying Duck Athletic Fund donation. The donor didn't want to be identified; he didn't even want a receipt, for tax purposes. All he wanted was for a dad and his daughter to have one more season in Autzen Stadium, together.
Trunnell called Jackie during her lunch break at work. Clear your calendar next fall, he said through sobs. We have seven more dates to watch the Ducks.
"He was just beside himself," Jackie said. "So happy. In tears. He was just so, so happy."
The Trunnell family has been attending Oregon football games for some ninety years, they reckon. Jay's grandmother worked in a University of Oregon sorority house in the Thirties. His father, Jess, basically grew up on campus. Jess and his brother would watch the football team practice at Hayward Field. Soon enough they were shagging balls for the players, and then attending a game at their invitation.
Oregon football thus was imprinted in Jay's DNA. Going to Duck games is simply what the family did, even when winning seasons and bowl games were few and far between.
"Why," someone would ask, during the lean years for Oregon, "do you want to go spend a beautiful fall afternoon doing that?"
"Well," Jay would respond, "because there's a game, and I've got tickets. And that's all that matters. It's what we do."
Jay shared the tradition first with his dad, and later his wife. His daughter Jackie attended her first Oregon football game when she was just nine days old. "That might be a stadium record," Jay says. "I don't know."
Eventually, his daughter became his regular companion in Section 14. Jackie, and all the new friends who'd come to treasure sharing fall Saturdays there together.
"We've lost a few over the years, but some of us have been there the whole time together," Jay said. "We've raised our kids up there. We kind of police the area, and make it so everyone can enjoy the game."
Then, in 2015, the dreadful diagnosis. A 30-year streak of attending every conference game ended. Some weeks, it was all Jay could do to muster his strength after a dose of chemotherapy. When he couldn't make it, his absence was felt by the rest of Section 14.
"If he has to miss a game because he's sick," Jackie said, "they're just beside themselves worrying about him."
Never one to sweat wins and losses much, Jay began to see a whole new meaning in Oregon football games. The camaraderie in Section 14, the fall colors around the stadium, the roar of the crowd and pomp of the halftime show — "you really pay more attention to that stuff than you did before," Jay said.
Still, fall Saturdays at Autzen had to take a backseat to other routines now. It isn't overstating things, Jay asserts, to say his life has depended on the care he receives at Willamette Valley Cancer Institute and Research Center.
Along with his brother Ron, Jay prepares cards and candles to pass out to the employees there, as a token of his gratitude.
"To show up every day with a smile on your face, and try as hard as you can to save the next person, it takes a special spirit to do that," Jay said. "So I always like to let them know they're very appreciated."
A few days ago, Trunnell made his now-annual visit to hand out the cards and candles. As luck would have it, the Oregon mascot was on hand, dressed as "Santa Duck." Jay was able to get a picture with the mascot that helped him cheer on the UO football team for some 35 years.
"It couldn't have worked out any better," he said.
This past season, Jay missed the Ducks' season opener, but that wasn't unusual. His family holds an annual backyard fundraiser for local charities; Jay's tickets to the first game of each season often have been donated to that cause. Thus, the first 2017 home game for Jay and Jackie was when Oregon hosted Nebraska.
That, of course, was the afternoon the Ducks wore "Stomp Out Cancer" uniforms, to help defeat childhood cancers. To Jay, the cause was deeply personal.
"I think he was on the verge of tears the whole game," Jackie said. "That was such a cool experience; we loved everything about it."
A few weeks later, Trunnell was on the verge of tears again, as he said goodbye to his Section 14 seat mates, presumably for the last time. From those seats, Trunnell had watched Keenan Howry's punt return in the 2001 Civil War, and the 2003 upset of mighty Michigan, and the 2009 Civil War for the Rose Bowl. Thanks to his "Christmas miracle," Trunnell can add another memory or two to that list next fall.
"I just think that's such a huge thing for his morale, to have that to look forward to," Jackie said. "I have no doubt he can hang in there, and it would just be so hard for him to still be well and sitting at home.
"The fact he has this to look forward to," she said, "is everything."
Goodbye to a lifetime of cheering on the Ducks, whether the stakes were a War for the Roses, or even just a Toilet Bowl. Goodbye to Section 14 in Autzen Stadium, which had become home for Trunnell as a season-ticket holder, first alongside his father in 1982, and later with his daughter Jackie. Goodbye to a family tradition of rooting for the Ducks that began at Hayward Field, back when it hosted UO football, and continued at that hallowed venue decades later cheering on Steve Prefontaine.
In 2015, Trunnell was diagnosed with colon cancer. Paying for treatment didn't leave much in the budget for football tickets. Jackie did her part to keep the tradition going, chipping in for her own ticket the last couple seasons. But in 2018, Jackie is getting married. Something had to give. The decision was made, prior to this fall, that it would be the last for the Trunnells as UO season-ticket holders.
Section 14, Row 28, is more than a bare bench in the northeast corner of Autzen Stadium. To the Trunnells, it's a place to celebrate tradition, and family, and the new friends they made there. On his way to the stadium each Saturday, Trunnell would buy brownies, to pass around at halftime. During this year's Civil War, the brownies were accompanied by handshakes and hugs, and solemn goodbyes.
"We kind of had to let the cat out of the bag," Trunnell said. "To all our old friends sitting with us, I said, this isn't something we're doing because we want to. But there was a good chance we'd be giving up our seats after all these years.
"I do believe in Christmas miracles," he recalls adding, almost as an after-thought. "And look what happened."
Last week, a call came from the Oregon Athletics ticket office. Trunnell figured it was a sales pitch. He prepared to deliver the bad news: The Trunnells didn't plan to renew their season tickets. But the caller had a different message. Trunnell's Christmas miracle had arrived.
An anonymous donor had written a check, for both of Trunnell's season tickets, and the accompanying Duck Athletic Fund donation. The donor didn't want to be identified; he didn't even want a receipt, for tax purposes. All he wanted was for a dad and his daughter to have one more season in Autzen Stadium, together.
Trunnell called Jackie during her lunch break at work. Clear your calendar next fall, he said through sobs. We have seven more dates to watch the Ducks.
"He was just beside himself," Jackie said. "So happy. In tears. He was just so, so happy."
The Trunnell family has been attending Oregon football games for some ninety years, they reckon. Jay's grandmother worked in a University of Oregon sorority house in the Thirties. His father, Jess, basically grew up on campus. Jess and his brother would watch the football team practice at Hayward Field. Soon enough they were shagging balls for the players, and then attending a game at their invitation.
Oregon football thus was imprinted in Jay's DNA. Going to Duck games is simply what the family did, even when winning seasons and bowl games were few and far between.
"Why," someone would ask, during the lean years for Oregon, "do you want to go spend a beautiful fall afternoon doing that?"
"Well," Jay would respond, "because there's a game, and I've got tickets. And that's all that matters. It's what we do."
Jay shared the tradition first with his dad, and later his wife. His daughter Jackie attended her first Oregon football game when she was just nine days old. "That might be a stadium record," Jay says. "I don't know."
Eventually, his daughter became his regular companion in Section 14. Jackie, and all the new friends who'd come to treasure sharing fall Saturdays there together.
"We've lost a few over the years, but some of us have been there the whole time together," Jay said. "We've raised our kids up there. We kind of police the area, and make it so everyone can enjoy the game."
Then, in 2015, the dreadful diagnosis. A 30-year streak of attending every conference game ended. Some weeks, it was all Jay could do to muster his strength after a dose of chemotherapy. When he couldn't make it, his absence was felt by the rest of Section 14.
"If he has to miss a game because he's sick," Jackie said, "they're just beside themselves worrying about him."
Never one to sweat wins and losses much, Jay began to see a whole new meaning in Oregon football games. The camaraderie in Section 14, the fall colors around the stadium, the roar of the crowd and pomp of the halftime show — "you really pay more attention to that stuff than you did before," Jay said.
Still, fall Saturdays at Autzen had to take a backseat to other routines now. It isn't overstating things, Jay asserts, to say his life has depended on the care he receives at Willamette Valley Cancer Institute and Research Center.
Along with his brother Ron, Jay prepares cards and candles to pass out to the employees there, as a token of his gratitude.
"To show up every day with a smile on your face, and try as hard as you can to save the next person, it takes a special spirit to do that," Jay said. "So I always like to let them know they're very appreciated."
A few days ago, Trunnell made his now-annual visit to hand out the cards and candles. As luck would have it, the Oregon mascot was on hand, dressed as "Santa Duck." Jay was able to get a picture with the mascot that helped him cheer on the UO football team for some 35 years.
"It couldn't have worked out any better," he said.
This past season, Jay missed the Ducks' season opener, but that wasn't unusual. His family holds an annual backyard fundraiser for local charities; Jay's tickets to the first game of each season often have been donated to that cause. Thus, the first 2017 home game for Jay and Jackie was when Oregon hosted Nebraska.
That, of course, was the afternoon the Ducks wore "Stomp Out Cancer" uniforms, to help defeat childhood cancers. To Jay, the cause was deeply personal.
"I think he was on the verge of tears the whole game," Jackie said. "That was such a cool experience; we loved everything about it."
A few weeks later, Trunnell was on the verge of tears again, as he said goodbye to his Section 14 seat mates, presumably for the last time. From those seats, Trunnell had watched Keenan Howry's punt return in the 2001 Civil War, and the 2003 upset of mighty Michigan, and the 2009 Civil War for the Rose Bowl. Thanks to his "Christmas miracle," Trunnell can add another memory or two to that list next fall.
"I just think that's such a huge thing for his morale, to have that to look forward to," Jackie said. "I have no doubt he can hang in there, and it would just be so hard for him to still be well and sitting at home.
"The fact he has this to look forward to," she said, "is everything."
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