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 Photo Contributed photo Todd Nelson, a 1984 Clatskanie High School graduate, died on June 6, 2002 at age 36, leaving behind his wife Maggie, son Benjamin (left) and daughter Shelby (right). |
Even after his passing, Clatskanie's Todd Nelson continues to motivate those whose lives he touched
Sunday, November 5, 2006 12:41 AM PST
By Rick S. Alvord
Printable version
E-mail this articleMore than four years after his death, Todd Nelson -- the quintessential small-town boy who made it big -- continues to leave behind his calling card.
Not a bad idea for a hot-shot millionaire attorney, one who went toe-to-toe with controversial huckster Don King in the legal arena of high-stakes professional boxing.
In fact, it was King who once referred to the pride of tiny Clatskanie (population 1,528) as "that young shyster lawyer" during an interview with ESPN -- the highest form of flattery from a man famous for his unethical deeds and unorthodox hairstyle.
Nelson was a 1984 graduate of Clatskanie High School. He was all-state in basketball and baseball for the Tigers, and went on to a successful career as a corporate lawyer in Las Vegas. He commuted to Nevada from the Tucson, Ariz., home he shared with wife Maggie, daughter Shelby and son Benjamin.
Nelson died June 6, 2002 at age 36 after an 11-month battle with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL).
He would have turned 41 tomorrow.
On June 6, 2003, close friend Teddy Parker -- one of Nelson's law partners -- and his wife finally had a son.
"Todd was in the hospital having his chemotherapy and we were just talking about things. I asked him if we should try again to have a son, since we already had three girls," recalled Parker. "He said, 'Go with it. It'll happen.' I asked him if he was sure, and he said, 'Yes. I'm sure.' A year to the day after he died, we had our boy."
Say hello to Teddy Todd Parker.
"I don't know, sometimes I think maybe Todd had something to do with that," Parker said.
There are more subtle calling cards, such as the mysterious feathers that gently cascade from the sky and land softly near -- even on -- their intended target.
Sometimes there's a feather sitting on the living room carpet, such as the one Nelson's grandmother found on the day he died. Or one that finds its way onto the chest of a loved one.
There isn't a bird or carnivorous cat in sight. Not even a tree.
"Todd sends us feathers, mostly to tell us that he's OK and everything here will be OK, too," said Jill Sprague, Nelson's big sister. "If you tell somebody about the feathers, they look at you like you're crazy. Then it'll happen to them. They'll get a feather.
"It's amazing how much we all miss Todd," she added. "But for the time he was here, he made a big impact. Not a day goes by that we don't think about him. For a kid from a small town, he did very well in life. His life was just too short."
Sometimes it's not until a man dies that the true depth of his character is revealed.
In this case, the people who knew Todd Nelson the best are left behind to introduce him to a new generation of small-town youths with dreams to pursue.
The family
Dianne (Nelson) Karthauser remembers when her son had his eye on a tiny, blue baseball glove at the old Sprouse-Reitz store in downtown Clatskanie. The price tag was $4.99. He didn't have the money.
"So he saved up everything he could," Karthauser said. "First, he hid it under the counter so nobody would buy it. When that didn't work, we put it on layaway for him. When he'd find a pop can, he'd go cash it in for the nickel, walk to the store and put that nickel down on his glove. When he found a dime in a phone booth, he'd take it in. He saved up part of it, then we just paid for the rest."
The little blue glove remained in Nelson's possession through four years of college at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, where he had earned a basketball scholarship, and through law school at the University of Arizona.
It served as a reminder that all goals are achievable -- no matter how large, how small.
Nelson knew in grade school that he'd grow up to be a lawyer. He said as much to his mother and grandmother, Miriam Nelson, although he didn't come from a wealthy family and no one put the idea in his head.
"That's just what Todd wanted to be," Karthauser said. "His grandma was so thrilled."
Sports often paves the way for small-town teens to experience life elsewhere. When Nelson received his basketball scholarship from PLU, it took him only a year to realize there weren't enough minutes in the day to give the proper attention to both sports and schoolwork.
"Todd got a full scholarship for basketball and academics, but he wanted to take harder courses and go to law school. He played on the JV basketball team his first year, then decided to give it up," his mother said. "You're talking about a kid who loved basketball deeply. But he didn't want anything getting in the way of his real goal."
He was the third of four children. His sister, Jill, is four years older. One brother, Brian, is two years older and the baby of the family, Marc, is two years younger.
By all accounts, Nelson was a boy who needed little prodding. He didn't have to be reminded to do his homework. He never talked back to his mother and father, Lynn Nelson, and didn't cause trouble at school.
"By the time he was 3 or 4, he probably could have raised himself," his mother joked. "You never had to set a curfew for him. He was disciplined and self-motivated, even at a young age. He knew so much about sports when he was a kid, the guys down at the tavern would call the house at night and have me wake him up just so they could ask him a sports question they had a bet riding on."
Karthauser's little boy grew up to be the son, husband, father and lawyer she always knew he'd be.
When he came home to visit with his wife and children for the Fourth of July holiday in 2001, she never imagined it would be the start of a tangled and tragic 11-month cycle of events that would steal him from her.
"When he came home, he was pretty tired. They rented a home in Cannon Beach (on the northern Oregon Coast) and he was looking forward to resting," his sister said. "He collapsed on July 6, they took him to the hospital and bam -- he was taken to OHSU (Oregon Health Sciences University) in Portland."
The leukemia diagnosis was swift. He needed a bone marrow transplant to stay alive.
Nelson's law partners, Parker and Manny Aaron, paid to have him flown back to Tucson. During the next 11 months, Nelson fought hard and experienced several positive upswings in his health.
In April of 2002, he took a turn for the worse. The disease was winning -- by a lot.
He was gone in early June.
"The thing I miss the most? His crooked smile and the fact that he'd always call on my birthday -- never missed a single one," his sister said. "I was in awe of all he accomplished. He was an inspiration."
And a mother misses her baby.
"I miss his calm voice and the way he was always interested in everyone else. And he was so generous. He'd fly Grandma Nelson to Vegas for the big fights, because he knew she was a boxing fan," Karthauser said. "Most of all, I just miss my boy. I can still see him running around with that little blue baseball glove."
The friends
Sports was Nelson's passion as a youngster, particularly basketball and baseball. He was a left-hander who wasn't blessed with much quickness, but made up for it with superb hand-eye coordination, brains and savvy that led to a successful high school athletic career.
He averaged more than 23 points a game as a senior with the Clatskanie basketball team, and was named second-team all-tournament at the 1984 Class 3A State Championships along with teammate Cory Blecha. The Tigers finished fourth.
Nelson built a network of strong friendships that were cultivated through common bonds -- primarily sports.
"The truth is, Todd Nelson was the same guy in 2002 when he passed away that he was when I met him in 1970," said Bryan Davis, one of Nelson's best friends and a teammate in baseball. "We'd play football in the side yard of the duplex Todd and his family lived in on Nehalem Street. We'd play for hours and hours.
"He was the same kid through school. Always a great athlete, but always with great perspective," Davis added. "In high school, he didn't smoke or drink. He was a straight-laced kid with an idea of what he wanted to do in life. As opposed to a person like me, who was going 25 different directions, he had a plan and stuck to it."
Davis, Blecha, Bobby Donaldson, Jimmy Engen and Nelson were among a tight-knit group of inseparable pals. They played sports together growing up and shared a love for University of Oregon football.
Davis, Donaldson, Engen and Nelson attended the 1995 Oregon-Penn State Rose Bowl together in Pasadena, and would often meet in Eugene for home Duck games.
But while the others didn't stray far from their small-town roots, Nelson ventured out.
"Todd was so smart and talented," said Davis, who has worked at Georgia-Pacific's Wauna paper mill near Clatskanie for most of his adult life. "He had the condo in Vegas, the home in Tucson and was doing really well as an attorney. But to me, and everyone who knew him, he was just Todd Nelson from Clatskanie."
Davis made several trips to Las Vegas to visit Nelson and take in championship boxing cards, featuring the likes of Evander Holyfield. One of the biggest names Nelson represented was world champion female boxer Kristy Martin, who was among Don King's stable of fighters until Nelson sued him to get Martin out of her contract.
"Todd loved boxing. He was a great lawyer and doing very well, but he really wanted to get involved in the boxing end of it," Davis said. "I remember once when I flew down to see him. We were riding in his car and his cell phone rang. It was Don King. Todd just held out the phone and let King blabber on. That was pretty funny."
Blecha, a middle school teacher in Seaside, said he and his friends "lived vicariously" through Nelson.
"What Todd did, that's something most kids from Clatskanie only read about," Blecha said. "Todd was the one who was brave enough to go after what he wanted. He went to law school, put down roots in Las Vegas, negotiated contacts with Don King ... he had a dream. A lot of kids today should look at that and realize they, too, can accomplish something if they put their heart into it like Todd did."
Davis was there when Nelson collapsed at the Cannon Beach vacation house.
"He kept excusing himself to the bathroom. The poor guy was getting sick," he recalled. "When he got to the hospital, they knew right away it was leukemia. Me, Bobby, Jimmy and Cory went to see him before he flew back to Tucson. ... He was scared. Really scared."
Nelson was unable to travel during his treatments, which meant he missed all of his beloved Ducks' football games in 2001.
"He wasn't able to be at the games. So before the Ducks ran out of the tunnel, I'd call him and hold up my cell phone so he could hear the crowd and share in the excitement as they ran onto the field," Davis said. "I can't believe how many times I've wanted to pick up the phone and call him. That's a friendship for life. You can't replace that."
If Nelson walked through Davis' front door tomorrow, he'd wish him a happy 41st birthday.
Then he'd remind him of one thing.
"I never had the chance to tell him how much I loved him, so I think that's the first thing I'd do," Davis said. "Then I'd thank him for being such an inspiration. He did some great things in such a short life. Not bad for a Clatskanie kid."
Rick S. Alvord is sports editor of The Daily News. He can be reached at ralvord@tdn.com or 577-2527.
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