This time of year tends to force me to become a reductionist. That is, all the talk about peace on earth and good will to men makes me examine my own beliefs.
Here is one of my core beliefs: Man (including woman) has been put on earth to help other men. Some people would take that to mean that government ought to do the job. I see it as a more individual matter.
I'm talking about what one man does to help another. One of my most compelling examples of this is Chris Platis and his brother Jim Platis, the yin and yang of the subject.
Chris grew up in a family that was tossed about like flotsam in a hurricane. His mother came from a genteel Greek family, his father from anything but. The family's wealth vanished with the stock market crash in 1929, which essentially reduced the family to a single parent (mother) household with an occasional appearance by the father. In time, the family landed in Indiana Harbor, where the air was rich and the gambling good.
Like many urchins of that era, Chris emerged as a gang leader, with forearms like Popeye, athletic skills beyond compare for his age, and an imagination that earned him the sobriquet "Walter Mitty."
From an early date, Chris blended fragments of the economically challenged society he belonged to and created winning athletic teams. A softball team called the Cadets won championship after championship in their age category, a basketball team did almost as well, and a seven-man touch football team won the Catherine House championship with formations and movement that would have made Broadway choreographer Bob Fosse jealous.
When he got to high school, Chris found himself inhibited by traditional, classical systems that allowed little room for innovation. The one exception was baseball, which changes generation to generation as much as a Brahman's mind. Academic requirements didn't help, either.
Nevertheless, Chris became, in my opinion, the best second basemen ever in the Calumet Region. At the same time, he developed a talent for inspiring teammates of modest talent to extraordinary performances. I remember once at the ABC finals up in Battle Creek, Mich. when he convinced a fine-looking, but mediocre-performing pitcher to throw a virtual no-hitter for five innings.
His independent baseball teams set a new and higher standard for performance. When it appeared that he had inherited a million dollars, he suspended the team and took it to Europe for the season.
On the everyday front, Chris lifted the spirits of downtrodden friends throughout the Calumet Region and helped make them whole.
I don't think I ever had a better friend in the Calumet Region, unless it be Chris' brother, Jim. In a hundred ways, he set standards for all of us; and at this Christmastide, it is useful for us to reflect on these marks. He was one in a million. We lived together at times, perpetually played together, and even prayed together upon occasion.
Merry Christmas, Chris.
The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
