Franke Bell to be Inducted into Swim Coaches Hall of Fame

The documentary film trailer above, Bell’s Angels, is courtesy of filmmaker Heidi Burkey.

August 27th in Clearwater, Florida, Coach Franke Bell will be inducted into the International Swim Coaches Association Hall of Fame.

Franke was my age group swim coach, and I can’t think about this woman without going all to pieces in tears.

Do you love someone to the point your chest swells to bursting when you think of them?  Do you carry them in your heart when the world delivers the best it has, or beats you into a hole you feel you can’t climb out of? That’s how I feel about Franke. She’s always with me, supporting me, an essential part of the emotional  kaleidoscope–calm against ugly chaos, absolute joy when potential evolves into fruition.

As a kid, Franke was there for many firsts.  Like magic they manifested from her. The greatest of them all was singular and pure. Franke made me love swimming.

Love, first love, is always so raw and real, crystallizing memories. I was eight years old when I really found my stroke, that ease of movement in the water, and the ability to punch the gas and go. Franke was there, nudging me along, tweaking the angle of my hand or body position. I can see her face now, leaning down from the pool’s edge, sunlight haloing her long, eternally blonde hair piled into a bun or pulled back in a ponytail.

Milestones on our team, Johnston Memorial YMCA (JMY) in Charlotte, North Carolina, were met with rewards. Kristy Kreme Donuts topped the list. A ham-bunny sandwich at a greasy-spoon was a go-to for anyone who braved the animal lane, the toughest lane in practice.  Once, when we were are all out for breakfast, Franke told me to get whatever I wanted. I’d done my first 100 meters butterfly and a reward was in order. I got bacon and eggs, the only breakfast I could think of. Franke got a cheese omelette. She gave me a bite, saw my reaction, and switched my plate for hers.  “You need this more than I do. It’s your first omelette, isn’t it?”  I nodded, my mouth over-stuffed with cheese and eggs.

The best coaches give you everything, heart and soul, whether it’s the breakfast plate in front of them or their last ounce of energy on deck after an eighteen hour day in the hot sun.

Franke had so much to give, and she did until she couldn’t anymore.

As a child I passingly understood her coaching situation was complicated. I knew she was a great coach, coaching in, at that time in history, a poor section of Charlotte. I knew she wasn’t paid much, or what she deserved, for the endless time she poured into our team. After many decades at JMY, she had to leave. The situation had deteriorated beyond her control.

My world was so small back then. It was Franke, swimming and my family. Almost everything else, the memories, are a milky blur. When she left it was like the backdrop of the world I moved in turned black. They sky beyond the landscaped darkened. I was so scared without Franke there. Just scared.

Swimming keeps you. The love of swimming Franke gave me, kept me.

Franke was always present. Her assistant took over, Bruce Stein, who hammered me in butterfly, making me fearless of that painful stroke. More and more coaches followed over the years, all of them weighed out and scrutinized by my father under Franke’s counsel.

I knew Franke was a great coach, but that understanding evolved and expanded in unusual ways over the years. I learned that Franke could divine the future.  She’d seen it all and experienced enough in the sport to predict who would do what and how.  Her knowledge simply eclipsed everyone. No swim coach I ever met was her superior. I took trips to the top colleges and all of the coaches referenced Franke, and spoke her name with a level deference you rarely hear in a lifetime.  At World Championships, 1991, I beat Michael Gross and broke his world record. Five minutes later in the media room waiting to go before the cameras, Aussie coaches crowded around asking about Franke. World Championships were in Perth, Australia, the underside of the world, the farthest place from Johnston Memorial YMCA you could imagine, but they knew the famous Franke Bell. And those coaches wanted to know more, quickly peppering me with questions.

Years into my retirement, Franke’s felt in conversations with peers, coaches and officials.  Everyone’s shared experience is the same. Franke is a powerful force for good. Trying to make sense of her impact, trying to measure it over five plus decades is futile. You can’t. She’s helped thousands upon thousand of kids realize their potential, and I am so very thankful I was one of them.

I love you, Franke, and congratulations on this well-deserved honor.

Many thanks to Randy Reese and Doug Fonder for their efforts to honor Coach Franke Bell. These are two men I respect a great deal, and I’m so thankful they’ve created the International Swim Coaches Association (ISCA) to support, educate and acknowledge coaches.

Many thanks to filmmaker Heidi Burkey. Her film captured Franke’s love and influence beautifully. Heidi is a artist, and we need more like her profiling swimming stories.

FILM CREDITS:

Directed by: Heidi Burkey

Cinematography by: Brent Christy

Music by: Justin Wright

Read more about Coach Franke Bell from Doug Miller’s report at the Charlotte Observer.