What’s Up Doc? - STORIES FROM DOC’S SWIMMERS
From Mike Fehr
There are so many stories about Doc from my era at I.U. it would take forever to try to preserve them all, and a continuous brain scan to even try to remember them all (after all, I was there over thirty five years ago).
Several of us were in one of the old IU station wagons returning from the Indoor Nationals in Bartlesville Oklahoma, in 1962. Alan Somers was driving, I was in the right front passenger seat, Carl Newman and someone else I'm not sure who (maybe Ted Stickles) were in the center passenger seat while Doc was in the back of the vehicle. We left Bartlesville in the early afternoon and by switching drivers every now and then, had driven all day and most of the night. We always drove straight through to wherever we were going to save money on motels.
We had reached Southern Illinois on a rural road (there were no freeways then) at least ten miles from the nearest town, in corn farming country. At about five in the morning, the vehicle began to swerve, something that had happened before on our many car trips. Normally, the driver would slow down and the vehicle would be all right, but Alan took his hands off the steering wheel stating later that "Sometimes when you take your hands off the wheel, it will correct itself." (something he denies to this day) As we were swerving down the road, Doc, who was asleep in the back was rudely awakened, and started yelling "What, what, what, is going on?" The car careened off the road into a ditch where we got stuck in some mud.
Doc was not a happy camper. He had to climb out of the car with the rear end of the vehicle sticking up into the air while the front was embedded in the muddy ditch. We all piled out the back as if we had to scale a small cliff to get out. Luckily, no one was injured. The station wagon, however, was too far stuck into the mud for us to be able to remove it. We stood around for a while surveying the situation when Doc noticed a farmer on a tractor about a quarter mile away. He decided to go over to the farmer to see if he would help us get out of the ditch.
About half an hour later, here comes Doc and a farmer perched on top of an old tractor. Doc was carrying some chains and had a big grin on his face. The farmer hooked up the chains to his tractor and the station wagon. He pulled and pulled without the car moving. Finally, with the old tractor groaning, the station wagon broke loose from the mud where it had been embedded for about an hour. Simultaneously with the car pulling out of the ditch, the farmer's tractor, in what sounded like a dying gasp accompanied by a loud noise, stopped running. It sounded like whatever was wrong with the tractor was a major problem.
Typical of those days, no one had any money to pay the farmer for his help or repair of his tractor. Doc, in his famous diplomatic fashion, had about eight dollars and offered it to the farmer along with an "IU Swimming" T‑shirt. The farmer was happy with the "T‑shirt" and refused to take any money. He happily got the tractor started and limped back to his barn.
Those T‑shirts had a lot more value than any of us thought!
We inspected the station wagon, straightened out the right front fender with a few kicks and pried it away from the wheel with a stick found along the side of the road. Doc got behind the wheel and drove us all home.
The above is one of my favorites. You had to be there to really appreciate how Doc handled the situation. I'm sure that many of our colleagues have mentioned Doc's eating habits, and his insistence about playing classical music while we drove to all our swim meets, but his eccentricities don't always translate into individual stories.
Mike Fehr
IU Swimming 1961‑1965
From Bill Heiss:
One story which has come to mind was of the time we were in San Francisco walking through the red light district. There was a barker on the street trying to lure in customers for a topless show. As we walked by, the barker was bragging about the beauty of the performers and ended by saying, "You never know, you might get a little on the side." Without missing a beat or breaking stride Doc said, "You mean they moved it?" The barker was left speechless.
Bill Heiss
IU Swimming, 1970-74
From Paul Hutinger:
In 1948, the Iowa Swim team participated in the College Swimming Clinic in Ft. Lauderdale. About six swimmers went out to eat with Doc, the assistant coach. We found a restaurant that advertised an “all you could eat” menu. What a great place for a group of hungry swimmers. We all ordered 2nds, but noticed it took an extremely long time to get our refills. Doc wouldn’t give up. We were there until late evening before our 3rd refills were delivered. The next night, we noticed that the restaurant had removed the “all you can eat” sign.
While at Iowa in the late 1940s, Paul Hutinger swam a 440 free time trial for Doc. The swimmers on deck raved about the great driving kick Hutinger demonstrated. To their amazement, Doc says, “I am not impressed. I think he can swim faster if he cuts down on the kick and keeping it narrow. He’ll have less resistance and be more efficient.” Doc tells Hutinger to follow his instructions and swim another 440. Much to the amazement of all the swimmers, Hutinger bettered his time.
In the late 1960s, Mark Spitz was a freshman at Indiana, with Doc as his coach. Near the end of a set, Spitz asked Doc about his stroke and climbed out of the pool while Doc answered his question. Doc was always eager to discuss strokes with his swimmers. He soon discovered that the talented Spitz was using this as a diversion to get out of practice, if even for a few minutes. After this, Doc would say, “Stay in the pool, we’ll talk about it later.”
In the late 1960's, while coaching at Indiana, Doc had a unique reward for swimming good repeats in his challenging sets. He threw M & Ms into the pool. It was remarkable to see his skilled world record holders dive and scramble after a tiny M & M. When it is thrown into the water by a world renowned Olympic coach, it becomes a significant aspect of your training.
One summer, in the late 1960's, five coaches from all over the world came to Indiana to observe Doc’s practices. They wanted to learn what techniques he used to motivate his swimmers to train hard and achieve their world record performances. One day after an hour of vigorous intervals at various distances, Doc paused, picked up a kickboard and threw it to the opposite end of the 50 m pool. This initiated a kick board throwing contest. The object was to see who could sail the board the length of the 50 meter pool. Whoever accomplished this feat, received loud and raucous cheers from his teammates. The visiting coaches wondered about the significance of Doc’s unusual training method. This was one of Doc’s gimmicks to enhance group camaraderie and provide a playful interruption to the serious goals and objectives that were an integral part of his training.
Dr. Paul Huntinger
Iowa Swimming 1948
From Fred Southward
Doc took me to Mexico City to swim in a pre-Olympic
meet. After the competition, Doc drove Jack Pettinger and me to Acapulco for a
couple of days of fun. While driving along the coast, we looked down at the
ocean and saw the most perfect waves imaginable. It was a deserted beach. No one
around for miles. A body surfer's dream. Doc, Jack and I raced down the bluff,
threw our clothes in a pile and ran full tilt into the surf. We were so pumped
that we didn't spend one second looking around the beach. We stayed in the
water for an hour and a half. Wave after wave, the next one was more perfect
than the last. We asked each other why no one else was taking advantage of this
beautiful setting. Eventually, we dragged our exhausted selves out of the surf
and onto the beach. Now we took time to look around. Quickly, we understood why
no one else was there. We saw two signs.
One read: Danger. Sharks. The other one: Raw
sewage. No swimming. Did Doc cautiously pause on the shore to
carefully analyze the situation?
Hardly. Nothing could stop Doc
from plunging head first into something he really liked and wanted to do.
Doc was always impatient to get things done quickly
so that he could move on to something new. At Royer Pool, one of the metal
poles used to attached the flags (for backstrokers) had broken. Without two
poles, there was no way to “string” the flags across the shallow end of the
pool. Doc called engineering two or three times to fix the poles. He was told
they'd get around to it sooner or later. Michigan was coming for a dual meet in
just a few days. Doc didn't want IU to host the meet without this basic
necessity. Since he could get no satisfaction from the university, Doc took
matters into his own hands. Impatiently, Doc said to me: Freddy, go to the
house, get a six foot 2x4 and bring it back to the pool. When I returned, Doc got a hammer and
furiously nailed the 2x4 into the delicate ceramic tiles that lined the inside
wall of the stands. Now the flags could be attached to the metal pole on one
side of the pool and the makeshift, new 2x4 on the other. Did Doc wait for
someone else to solve his problem? Hell
no. Doc took the action needed to solve things himself.
Fred Southward
IU Swimming 1966-70
From Vince Sumpter (Team manager from '79 to '82)
My favorite Doc story occurred on my 21st birthday. We'd just flown into Indianapolis, returning from an away meet. Being my 21st Birthday, my head was elsewhere. Doc sent me to pick the Caddy up from parking and as I pulled up to the Terminal, I managed to lock the keys in the trunk. We sent the rest of the team on home while Doc and I waited on a locksmith to get us into the car. An hour went by. Boy was he fuming. We finally got on our way South to Bloomington. As we neared Bloomington, he relaxed a bit and asked what I was doing that night. I told him it was my 21st and I planned on going to Nicks. He then apologized profusely and asked "Why didn't you tell me? I would have sent you home earlier also!"
Vince Sumpter
IU Swim Team manager 1979-82
From Kathy Wickstrand
One day in 1994 I was watching T.V. and there was an advertisement for the Oprah Show. They told about a show they were going to air on Valentine's day called the "I Love You Day." In one page you were to write about why this person should be honored on the show. I immediately went to my computer and wrote the following. My letter did not get picked and I believe I sent this letter to Marge. I thought I would include this for the archives that you are putting together. This kind of sums a lot up for me.
A Letter to Oprah:
I am compelled to write a letter for the "I Love You Day." My letter goes to a 74 year old wonderful man, James "Doc" Counsilman. Doc is the foremost authority in the world when it comes to competitive swimming. He has been the United States Olympic Coach numerous times and coached hundreds of world record holders (the most famous being Mark Spitz.) When you think of swimming, you think of Doc throughout the world.
I am writing because it is important for me to let this amazing person know how much I love him. I was on the 1975 Pan‑American team and on my way to fulfilling my dream of making the 1976 Olympic team. Three months before the Olympic Trials my life-long coach, Gene Lee was diagnosed with cancer. Gene had me drive from Indianapolis, IN to Bloomington, IN (1.5 hr. drive) to train under Doc because he wanted me to be able to train with the best. Doc was the Head Men’s Swimming Coach at Indiana University, coached only men and preferred it that way. He welcomed this confused, sad, shut‑down, senior in high school girl with open arms and a lot of love. I not only trained with Doc but ended up going to Olympic Trials with the Indiana team (the only female) because my coach’s cancer was progressing at a rapid pace. I swam awful, but Doc was right there to support and love me, even though he had a team of men that had qualified for the Olympic Team, and in 1976 he was the Head Olympic Coach. This tragic event in my life (my coach did die shortly after) was the beginning of a warm and loving relationship with Doc and his wife Marge. Because of Doc I ended up going to Indiana University passing up scholarships for west coast schools.
Upon attending college my parent’s twenty‑five year marriage ended. I had thought my parents had the ideal relationship when my dad abruptly left my mom for another woman. I was devastated and once again Doc was there to comfort and love me. He would sit and listen to my troubles and offer insight and encouragement that was life saving for me. I spent lots of time with Doc and Marge throughout my college career. I worked for Doc every summer at his prestigious swim camps. He gave me my own group to teach and it was at those camps that I developed my love of coaching. A highlight with Doc was when he swam the English Channel and was honored as being the oldest person to ever finish the swim. Being a part of his training and watching the courage and conviction that he possessed was such an inspiration!!
As a result of my relationship with Doc I decided on a career in coaching. In 1981 you could not get a better recommendation than from Doc. With his help I was offered the Head Men’s and Woman’s Swim Coach position at Illinois State University. I was the first and only female ever to coach a division I men’s team. My experience with Doc and his team gave me the confidence that I could do this. For thirteen years I coached in the college ranks (3 at Illinois State, 3 at Purdue, and the past 7 at Northwestern University in Evanston.) During my time at N.U. I was twice voted Big Ten Coach of the Year, having Olympians of my own!! There are very few collegiate woman swim coaches out there, but Doc always encouraged me and told me what a great job I was doing. Being able to have a positive impact on the student‑athletes and be a role model was something that I learned from Doc.
This summer I decided to retire from the coaching profession and switch to counseling student‑athletes, which I love. Doc retired a few years ago and unfortunately has struggled with Parkinson disease (his mind is still sharp as ever!) Oprah, it would mean so much to let this legion of a man know how much I love him and how he shaped my life in such a profound way. Doc has touched so many people, he really is the "Oprah" of competitive swimming throughout the world.
Sincerely,
Kathie Wickstrand
From Rick Hofstetter
(I wish I could tell you that I heard this myself. Colin Hampton, a freestyler from y era, reported this to me, and I have no doubts about its authenticity.)
The following conversation was overheard between Doc and a little girl, about ten years old, while both were standing in a buffet line at a hotel in the Canary Islands. The firl was ver inquisitive as to what foods were being displayed.
Little Girl: “Hey mister, what’s that stuff?” (pointing)
Doc: “Oh, that’s tongue.”
Little Girl: “Eeeewwww! Gross! I could never eat anything that came out of an animal’s mounth.”
Doc’s reply: (Without batting an eyelash): “Well, tehn the eggs are over there.” (pointing)
Many thanks for the efforts at keeping Doc’s memories alive.
Rick Hofstetter
