George Gipp - Death

Death

Gipp died December 14, 1920, two weeks after being elected Notre Dame's first All-American by Walter Camp and second consensus All-American overall. A frequently told but probably apocryphal story of Gipp's death begins when he returned to Notre Dame's campus after curfew from a night out. Unable to gain entrance to his residence, Gipp went to the rear door of Washington Hall, the campus' theatre building. He was a steward for the building and knew the rear door was often unlocked. He usually spent such nights in the hall. On that night, however, the door was locked, and Gipp was forced to sleep outside. By the morning, he had contracted pneumonia and eventually died from a related infection.

It is more likely that Gipp contracted strep throat and pneumonia while giving punting lessons after his final game, November 20 against Northwestern University. Since antibiotics were not yet available in the 1920s, treatment options for such infections were limited and they could be fatal even to young, healthy individuals.

Gipp's hometown, Laurium, built a memorial in his honor; he is buried in nearby Lake View Cemetery in Calumet, Michigan.

Read more about this topic:  George Gipp

Famous quotes containing the word death:

    “It was not death he feared—it was the disgrace of death, and the misery of the ignominious preparations. He knew in his heart that heaven could not call it murder that he had done; but he felt equally sure that man would do so.”
    —Anthony Trollope (1815–1882)

    “Abba, dark death is the breaking of a glass.
    The dazzled flakes and splinters disappear.
    The seal is as relaxed as dirt, perdu.”
    —Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)

    “For in the word death
    There is nothing to grasp; nothing to catch or claim;
    Nothing to adapt the skill of the heart to, skill
    In surviving, for death it cannot survive,
    Only resign the irrecoverable keys.
    The wave falters and drowns. The coulter of joy
    Breaks. The harrow of death
    Depends. And there are thrown up waves.”
    —Philip Larkin (1922–1986)