For Gil Burson, One Thing Meant More Than Anything, 'That's Amore'

I have a mental image of a teenage Gil Burson driving south on Main Street back in the days when Springboro was nothing but a village of a thousand people. The year is 1954, well before the K & W becomes a gathering spot for kids or the center of town requires a stop light.

Dean Martin is on the radio singing “That’s Amore,” a hit song from the year before. To everyone in town, Gil is a strong, tough kid who is defined by such words as “gutsy,” “determined” and “rugged.” But to those who really know him, Gil has a much different side — a sensitive side, one that has a real heart for people.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie/
That's amore/
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine/
That's amore…

Gil has spent the last hour way north of town, near the airport, up where there was room to open the engine a little. He is on his way back to Springboro High School, which is just on the outskirts of the southern part of town. Gil is a senior, a starter on the Panther basketball team with a reputation of not being afraid of anybody, no matter his size.

Had the Panthers played football back in those days, he would have surely been a fullback and middle linebacker.

I love this image. It’s like the movie “Hoosiers,” the 1986 film starring Gene Hackman where everyone knows everyone else. When the Panthers play at home, the whole town is there. When the team travels to a neighboring school, a caravan of cars follows the team bus, just like in the movie. Gil is in the middle of all of it, a team leader.

As he drives down Main Street, or Front Street as the locals called it, he relishes the moment. Practice starts in a half-hour, and even though he was the team’s leading scorer in the game the night before, Gil will work harder than anybody as the team runs through its drills. He plays at only one speed — overdrive.

To his left he sees Dick Chenault and his wife Phyllis outside their house, raking leaves and getting the house ready for the coming winter. For a second, Gil’s thoughts turn to the future and the notion that one day that could be him. After graduation, what will he do, and where will he live? Will he get married and have children and grandchildren? 

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta e fasule/
That's amore/
When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet/
You're in love

Gil can only wonder about the days ahead. For the time being, though, none of that matters.

For now, Gil has only thing on his mind — basketball.
…

THIS IMAGE CAME to mind last week as I was standing in a very long line at the Anderson Funeral Home on Main Street in Springboro. I was among countless other people who were there to pay final respects to the man who helped make the now-City of Springboro what it is today.

Gil Burson, a husband, father, grandfather and friend, passed away last Monday at the age of 80.

Throughout the evening, one person after another passed through the line to offer condolences to Gil’s family. His wife Sarah had been with Gil for over 60 years, Their four children — Debby (Ben) Ballard, Conny (Russ) Tusing, Mike (Angela) Burson, and Don (Mary) Burson — all graduated from Springboro H.S. Gil and Sarah have seven grandchildren, Kacy, Becky, Jake, Josh, Mike, Matt, Taylor, Jared; and also six great grandchildren, Brady, Brielle, Sarah, Jack, Carson, and Macy.

There were tears but also some laughter. Gil was loved by so many. Because of his rugged exterior and his loving interior, I offered two words about Gil — velvet steel.

The next day, my friend Danny Griffith performed a beautiful funeral service that honored Gil in the best possible way. One of Gil’s grandsons, Josh Ballard, told some wonderful stories in a touching tribute. 

In accepting respects from a long-time friend and classmate, Mike Burson said this about Gil: “He was one of the last true Springboro silent Icons we had. No one really knew the name but as his roots spread throughout the generations, they all started to realize he was the old oak tree we all long to be.“

I love that. No truer words have ever been said.
…

AMONG THE MANY GLORIOUS things we get to do in heaven, I think we can dial up a time and place and go back and visit for a while. In that respect, I think I get to play outfield for the 1942 Yankees or play wide receiver for the 1964 Browns if I want to.

I picture Gil in that old car of his driving south once again along Main Street in Springboro, way back 63 years ago. He is young again, strong as an ox, and so excited to once again wear the blue and white for Springboro. 

Practice starts in a half-hour, and later tonight “I Love Lucy” will be on television. There is a wide smile on his face.

But as he drives through town that crisp, late fall afternoon, Gil does not have to wonder how his life turns out. Instead, he will already know. He will envision his first date with Sarah Bishop and their wedding a year or so later. He will beam at the sight of his children being born, and all the things they did as a family in the years that follow.

And the grandchildren. Lord, is there anything better than grandchildren? He would love them all the same, and all their achievements would be special. They were the next generation of Panthers. Taylor is a treasure, Jared is a gem. And Jake would win the Super Bowl with the New York Giants.

How did a simple guy from a small town get so lucky? He won’t know for sure, but he was. He will thank God for blessings far greater than he ever could have dreamed.

As he approaches the old Springboro High School, which houses only the sixth graders today, he will pause and reflect on a life full of special occasions and good people, and the reality he will get to see everyone again someday.

And he especially touched by one more thing, something that always meant more than anything to Gil.

Love.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie/
That's amore/
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine/
That's amore…