Almost everyone mentions the catch, the Super Bowls, and the glory he gave to football when you mention Franco Harris. But over the course of our fifty-year friendship, I frequently mentioned his integrity and compassion.
The Pittsburgh Steelers had just won their first division title after a strong regular season fifty years prior. They celebrated Christmas only a few days after defeating the Oakland Raiders thanks to one of the most iconic plays in NFL history: Franco Harris, their rookie running back last second’s Immaculate Reception. While Franco Harris went on to have a Hall of Fame career and lead the Steelers to four Super Bowl titles in six years as the dominant club of the 1970s, the Steelers would narrowly lose the conference championship game to the unbeaten Miami Dolphins.
But that’s not the reason Franco and the Pittsburgh Steelers are dear to my heart.
This week fifty years ago, my first wife and baby daughter died in a vehicle accident when we were out buying a Christmas tree, and my two young kids suffered serious injuries. I received the call while I was in Washington, where I had just been elected to the U.S. Senate, and I immediately left for Delaware.
Until they recovered, I hardly ever left my boys’ bedsides. But I did go shopping for them one day. They were grinning for the first time since the accident when I came back. The Steelers’ benevolent and honorable owner, Art Rooney, had taken a flight out with a few players, including Franco and the hard-charging Rocky Bleier. They made time for my boys while they were busy with their own life, signed footballs, and then they departed without receiving any attention. A modest but incredibly meaningful gesture of kindness.
Sports have a strong ability to unite people. This weekend, as families get together for Christmas, countless supporters of the Pittsburgh Steelers and Penn State will tell their children and grandchildren stories about Franco so they may learn about his brilliance on the field. But I’m also confident that countless other families, like mine, will remember him for all the small, individualistic, and patriotic things he did to cheer us up when we needed it. We don’t need to inquire. We arrive. We make contact. We are united by compassion that has given our country its enduring power.
Franco Harris was chosen for nine straight Pro Bowls, but he considers his four Super Bowl victories and status as the first African American and Italian American to win the Super Bowl MVP to be two of his thirteen-year career’s most significant achievements.
Franco Harris played in nine Pro Bowls, won four Super Bowls, was named Super Bowl MVP, was twice named to the second team of All-Pros, once to the first team, was named NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year, led the league in rushing touchdowns, and was named NFL Man of the Year.
On the campaign road in Latrobe and Pittsburgh in September and November of 2020, I last saw Franco. My family keeps him in our thoughts and keeps him near to our hearts this week more than any other.
Franco Harris stopped playing football in 1985, and the Professional Football Hall of Fame later enshrined him. Harris is currently the owner and president of Pittsburgh-based Super Bakery Inc.
We share your sorrow since we know how many of you he has touched. We shall not waver in our commitment to living in and completing the world he envisioned. Three days before the “Immaculate Reception’s” 50th anniversary, on December 20, 2022, Franco Harris, 72, passed away peacefully at home in Sewickley, Pennsylvania.
God’s blessings, Franco Harris was a fantastic friend, an admirable American, and a good man.
May God richly bless his wife Dana, their family, and Steeler Nation as a whole.