Memphis. 1944. Jack and Irma Bronson huddled in a waiting room with their 16-year-old son Stan. The cool office air raised the hairs on their necks and the doctor’s furnace provided little warmth. As Jack paced back and forth, Irma gingerly rested a hand on her son’s shoulder. In her other hand was a medical report on Stan. A birth trauma had left him mentally disabled with a slight palsy, giving him the permanent intellectual age of a ten-year old. She glanced down at the report:
“At Present, the outlook is gloomy,†it read. “It is recommended that Stan be institutionalized.â€
Institutionalized. Irma dreaded the word. This was her child. She continued to read the report.
“In virtually every case, individuals below IQ 50 are institutional cases and cannot be safely retained in society.â€
Irma gave her son a tender look and feigned a smile. He beamed in return.
Memphis. 2015. Stan, now 87, relaxes in a chair at his St. Peter Manor apartment. Faded pictures of Jack and Irma rest on a dark shelf. A bristling Christmas tree looms in the corner. A large grin spreads across his wrinkled face as his care provider, Klorisa Mathes, enters.
“How are you?†he asked.
Nearly 90 years old, Stan has outlived his family and outlasted doctors’ predictions.
“He’s awesome,†said Pearl Woodruff, the manager of St. Peter Villa. “If there’s anyone to look up to as far as being diligent in surviving, it’s Stan. He’s been through a lot and he’s inspirational. Two years ago he got sick and we thought he’d never walk again. But he’s back up.â€
According to Mathes, Stan insists on walking without help.
“I have to make him use his walker,†she said as she recounted a time he hid it in the shower. “He said, ‘I don’t need to see it, I don’t need it.’â€
Along with the photo of Stan’s parents is a collection of Memphis Tiger memorabilia. There are Tiger pictures, Tiger baseballs, Tiger footballs and Tiger volleyballs. On Stan’s index finger is a University of Memphis graduation ring.
“We won the game,†said Stan of the Tigers’ recent 63-0 takedown of SMU.
1958. Stan spent his days assisting the Southwestern (now Rhodes College) baseball team. But with the coach’s death, Stan needed a new pastime. Reaching out to Memphis State (now University of Memphis), Irma contacted then football coach Spook Murphy, who embraced Stan with open arms. Irma’s request had been for Stan to watch the team workouts and nothing more. But Stan went the extra mile. He began not only assisting with the football team, but the other sports teams as well. Over the next 55 years, he would assist the Tiger baseball team in 2,353 games, receiving the Guinness world record as the “most durable bat boy.â€
On his living room shelf stands a picture of a young Stan in a Tiger baseball uniform, the batboy beaming in pride. Still smiling, Stan points out a Tigers Santa hat he’s received.
“I got my hat for Christmas,†he said.
As Stan became more involved with Tiger athletics, he became more involved on the University of Memphis campus. Years passed as Stan spent his days reading in the library and socializing with students. When Jack and Irma passed, they left their near-campus house to the University — with the condition that Stan was to live there under the protection of a Memphis student.
Stan walked to the campus each day, and the U of M essentially became his home. On his birthdays, the Tiger Den threw parties with “Happy Birthday Stan!†banners. Fraternities would invite him to parties and provide transportation. Then school president Lane Rawlins declared May 4th to be “Stan Appreciation day.†As years passed, however, Stan required more care. In 1997, a 70-year-old cousin from North Carolina moved him to a retirement home.
Stan fiddles with a blue-ribbon medal slung around his shoulder, a gift from the Tiger volleyball team. He longs to one day return to the U of M.
“I hope I can,†he said of a possible return to the University. “They always treat me nice.â€
