PITTSBURGH — I did a 30-minute interview with Franco Harris two weeks ago on 93.7 The Fan. The final question I asked him was about his health.
"Yep, yep, doing fine," he said. "I can't tell you how special it is and how great it feels that I'll be able to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Immaculate Reception. I'm really looking forward to the weekend. The thing that makes it really special is we get to celebrate it during the Christmas holidays. I love the Christmas holidays."
I'm still in shock.
I still can't believe the timing of Harris' death.
I listened to that interview over and over Wednesday morning after news broke that Franco — the man doesn't need a last name in this town — passed overnight at 72. His excitement was palpable as he talked about the Steelers' plans to retire his No. 32 jersey at halftime of the Christmas Eve game against the Las Vegas Raiders, about his extraordinary play in what can only be described as an extraordinary life.
"It still blows my mind," Franco said of all of it. "To be a part of something that big, that meaningful. The Number 1 play in the first 100 years of the NFL. Wow! That's just a wow!"
It's amazing what goes through your mind when you hear such sad news. I immediately thought of walking by the Franco statue at the airport Monday night as I headed home from the Steelers game in Carolina. Four people were posing for a picture with the statue. Countless thousands have done that over the years.
"I wish I had a dollar for every time someone asked me to take a picture with them and that statue," Franco said, the joy and humility evident in his voice. "It's funny, on my phone is a picture of me with the statue of George Washington. Now, there's a statue of Nelly Bly there. It's nice to be hanging around with Nelly and George."
I thought about where I watched the Immaculate Reception, the miracle play that beat the Raiders in the 1972 playoffs for the Steelers' first postseason win in their 40-year history. I was a teenager and had to go to Youngstown to watch the game at my cousin Don Larcinese's home. It was blacked out in Pittsburgh.
"It wasn't sold out. But we've been sold out ever since," Franco said with no small measure of pride and satisfaction.
I thought about Post-Gazette columnist Gene Collier's wonderful piece on Franco in 2020. It detailed the Steelers' 26-71-3 record in the 100 games before Franco arrived as the team's No. 1 pick in 1972 and their 74-25-1 record in the 100 games after he was here. He was such a huge part of their dynasty of the 1970s, as big a part as any player of their four Super Bowl wins in six years from 1974-79. He was MVP of their Super Bowl IX win against the Minnesota Vikings after the 1974 season when he rushed for 158 yards and a touchdown
"Those numbers kind of blow my mind," Franco said. "I'm glad I was in the second part of [Collier's numbers]."
I reminded Franco that no less than the great Joe Greene was quoted as saying, "We never won before Franco got here. We never lost after he did."
Mistakenly reminded Franco, as it turned out.
"That was Art Rooney," he quickly corrected me in a way that suggested the quote meant the world to him, coming from the iconic franchise owner.
I thought of the story Franco told many times about how he didn't want to be drafted by the Steelers after his career at Penn State ended.
"Anywhere but Pittsburgh and Green Bay," he said. "A couple of nights before the draft, I had a dream that Pittsburgh drafted me. I called my agent and told him, 'I had a dream. Can you please call Pittsburgh and tell them not to draft me?' He didn't do it. He thought I was a little off.
"Well, I'll be doggone. The morning of the draft, I got a call, 'Congratulations, you've been drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers.' How lucky was I that the football gods didn't listen to me when I said I didn't want to come to Pittsburgh. Talk about coming to the right place at the right time. It all just started to click for us."
I thought about how fortunate Pittsburgh was that Franco became a Steelers legend. I'm not talking about just as a Hall of Famer on the field. Franco was a Hall of Fame person off it. He could have lived anywhere he wanted, but he chose to stay here. Joe Gordon, the best PR man this city ever had, worked with Franco for years. He always said Franco did more for Pittsburgh than anyone.
"Wherever I went, I wanted to stay in that city and just become a part of that city, be involved in that city," Franco said. "Pittsburgh just grew into my home. It's a great city, great people. I feel really blessed. ...
"The city has done so much for me. I just want to give back to the city and its people. Just trying to make things better. I still feel that way. I still have the same energy and desire to keep doing things to help our community get better. This is where I live."
I can't imagine what the scene will be like Saturday night when the Steelers retire Franco's number, joining Ernie Stautner and Greene as the only players so honored in the 90-year history of the franchise. It will be somber, for sure, without Franco there. But it also should be joyous, a chance to honor him, his legendary career and that extraordinary life. So many of his teammate planned to give up their Christmas Eve because they wanted to be there with him. To say he was beloved by his peers is not an exaggeration.
"I connect the Immaculate Reception to my teammates and to our run during the '70s," Franco said. "To me, it brings light to those events. ...
"It's going to be great to share that night with those special players. I just wish everyone could be there. So many of our teammates have passed, but they're not forgotten. They'll never be forgotten."
So it will be with the remarkable man who doesn't need a last name in our town.
Franco.
