Editor’s note: Alf Van Hoose worked for The Birmingham News from 1947-90, serving as sports editor and lead columnist for the last 22 of those years. In that time, he became arguably Paul “Bear” Bryant’s closest friend in the media. Re-printed below is the column Van Hoose published on Jan. 27, 1983, the day after Bryant died at age 69.

Class was Bryant’s magnificent possession

By Alf Van Hoose

There was something magnificent in the possession of Paul William Bryant, teacher of a game to young men.

All of us owned a piece of him, like it or not, like him or not.

In his last years, in turbulent times, self-doubt rampant, he became, more than anyone, America’s folk hero.

He had been for years before that, and he sensed it, the most impelling voice in Alabama’s conscience, with his work-ethic standard, poise, fairness and class.

Ah-h-h, how he loved that word: Class.

He knew how to spell it, which was unimportant. He knew what it meant, which was important.

He knew how to implant it, and he did, which was even more important.

There was also style.

There are also memories, priceless for so privileged many. One should be self-conscious imposing his on yours.

Bryant stories and experiences form a common treasury. Whoa! Make that last adjective “uncommon.”

Legends are not common. He was, and friends can visualize him wincing under that resounding reminder to him, a legend.

Little stories illustrate the big man as well as large ones. Share one, please, from a Tuesday conversation.

Marguerite McWhorter, Mary Ruth Burgess, Mary Lindahl, Rose Poist and several other beautiful ladies are again dedicated to a “roast” to benefit Multiple Sclerosis research. It’s Feb. 24. It’ll star Jerry Pate, golfer-swimmer.

Paul Bryant is box-office. He established a record gate eight years ago as target of their first fun event.

Bryant and Pate are friends, have been since the minute Pate put on red and white as a freshman Tide golfer.

Everyone wanted Bryant’s shoulder, to his, or her, wheel. You know why. He’d make it turn. Demands on his time, his energy, were unceasing. No public man I know, outside the ministry, gave of himself more unselfishly.

“Coach,” a middleman requester was asking a friend whom he heard doctors plead to remember his health, just a teeny bit, “those MS folks sure could use you. They appreciate what you’ve done, but …”

“Aw, hell,” the voice was rumbling. “I read in the paper about Jerry’s deal the other day. I knew you’d be calling. I’ve got the date circled.”

We know now, sadly, Bryant can’t keep that promise. But the spirit of Bryant will. It lives.

The love of Bryant lives on, too. The Rev. Dr. Ed Kimbrough, Bryant friend of 50 years, was speaking so eloquently about that, privately, Wednesday evening.

“Love is unquenchable,” said this minister of life’s grander goals. “It never dies.”

It was there for the enrichment of many ever since.