At 9 O'CLOCK Saturday (7-11-36) morning we received a message from Frank Wykoff which read in part as follows:  "As a competitor sent by Glendale I won't give up until the race is over."

At 11 o'clock the same morning we received word he had been eliminated, placing out of the money in his first heat.  It was depressing news, especially in view of the fact that Owens broke the tape in that heat in 10.5, a time which Frank had been making consistently.    The best way to dispel one's gloom is to do something that will provoke a different one of greater intensity.  So, we went out to play golf and contemplate suicide.  The two seem to fit perfectly.

WE WERE CURSING, a corkscrew spoon shot on the fifteenth fairway when an Indian runner brought us word that Frank had gotten another chance, had changed his shoes, beaten the field in a race for leftovers, rested for a mere twenty minutes, and had come back in a grand finale to place third and make the Olympic Sprint team.

In the lap of gloom fell glittering dividends clipped from a bond of friendship.  I'd like to believe that part of Frank's success might be traced to a determination not to let down those Glendale people who, of their own volition, kicked through with $300 to send him to New York.

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THOSE WHO PARTICIPATED in this strange adventure were given a pleasant surprise.  Being a sentimental group, they must have reveled in the sight of the wire-photo pictures which shoed Frank qualifying in the old Glendale High school jersey which carried him to glory in 1928.

It was his way of showing he hadn't forgotten the old friends and the home town.  A subtle message which lends a richness to the adventure far greater than the race itself.

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Note -- the above reprint is only a portion of Mr. Graham's column. Click here to read another portion of his column concerning an apology to Olympic Champion Diver, Dorothy Poynton Hill.