One of a series
[img]1372|left|Jerry Chabola||no_popup[/img]Nearing 63 years old with the congenial confidence of a big league burglar, Jerry Chabola, the Athletic Director of Culver City High School, looks and acts as if this is the springtime of his days.
The spring remains prominent in his sturdy stepping about the sunny campus. The rhythm and ardor of his always-open-for-business personality never have waned. They constantly are on display.
But it is time for Mr. Chabola to explore new vistas with Janet, his bride of 42 seasons, and their six grandchildren, well-loved but never so much as when their grandparents are in the room or shepherding them about the countryside.
His leathery, scarlet-sunburned face, just south of a handsome shock of snow-flavored hair, may suggest that this retirement season of his magnificent career is splendidly timed.
After more than two decades on the Culver High faculty and 18 years as the athletic director, Mr. Chabola, the twinkle in his eyes undimmed, will bid adieu to hundreds of athletes, students who don’t know from soccer, sporting and academic colleagues and other types of pals and intimates when the school bell finally sounds Auld Lang Syne on a nostalgic late spring afternoon in June.
Not a regret does he entertain, he swears, at ending a 40-year career that carried him a million miles with his family, but professionally many fewer, from Pasadena to the desert and back home to his treasured Westside.
Come September, it isn’t likely anyone in the vicinity of Culver High will say, “That young fella reminds me of Jerry Chabola.”
The template vanishes when he does, and that isn’t just smokiness billowing skyward.
If most high school coaches were asked in a stickup, “Whaddaya do, bub?,” more than a hundred percent would reply, “Coach.”
Mr. Chabola, emphatically, would not have, and that slices straight to the beating heart of his marvelous life story.
(To be continued)
