Terry White

Drilling ball carriers into the ground provided peace and solace for

Terry White looking to escape an abusive father and a hostile neighborhood

in Cambridge, Ohio in the early 1980s. Unfortunately for White, the games

always ended sending the all-state athlete back to an environment better

suited for a ticket to prison than a scholarship to college.

After a sterling high school career in football and basketball, White

received numerous offers from elite college football programs and ultimately

chose The Ohio State University. There, helping anchor a defense that

included linebacker Chris Spielman, White played a key role in the

Buckeyes’ earning a Rose Bowl invitation in January 1985. He also brought

to campus baggage from his home and community that eventually wrecked

his promising athletic career.

“Looking back I had some great examples to follow on the team in

William White, Keith Byers, and Chris Spielman,” White remembered. “I

loved the lives they led, but I couldn’t emulate them because I was so caught

up in destructive and deep-seated behaviors. Just the lifestyle of being a high

profile athlete who was told how wonderful he was when I was really doing

bad things assisted in my decline. I had two really good years at OSU

athletically, but socially, it was crazy.”

White’s mother was only 14 years old when he was born and White

became a father at 18. During the next two decades another five children

would follow. But fatherhood was not a goal in his life. Football was his

passion and he worked hard at it. But as before, practices ended, seasons

concluded, and White returned to what he knew best.

“I was into drug use. I ended up failing three drug tests in college and

I was suspended from the 1985 Rose Bowl. And then, at the beginning of

my redshirt junior year, Coach Earle Bruce tried to suspend me so I

transferred and played my last two years at the University of West Virginia.

I was really lost and I was searching. I had begun my drug habit in high

school and I just really struggled with addiction and the lifestyle that

accompanies it,” White said.

With his disjointed college career behind him, “I signed as a free

agent with the Kansas City Chiefs of the National Football League, but was

cut a week before the season. Then, the following year, I signed a free agent

contract with the NFL’s Houston Oilers, but was cut a couple of weeks into

that. I did make a little bit of money and went back to Cambridge to my drug

addiction and lifestyle and everything just got out of hand. I became a career

drug dealer.”

Within five years of his audition in the NFL, White was convicted of

drug trafficking and sentenced to prison at age 30. Five more incarcerations

followed until just three years ago when, at the age of 43, White emerged

from prison doors determined to turn things around. What distinguished this

emergence from the previous five?

“I found faith in God during my second prison stint,” White said, “but

being grounded and rooted in that faith was something I really struggled

with. Every time I encountered hard times, I reverted back to what came

easy. I had never been taught how to deal with disappointment or failure. So

I did what I had seen my father do and others in my environment. It was just

a hard long process for me to get out of that.”

Since his last prison stay, White worked as a UPS manager before

being laid off. Then, some six months ago, he received a call from Reverend

Joe Foster of the Fountain of Hope near downtown Columbus about an at-

risk youth position at Foster’s ministry.

Foster leads the organization as executive director and he invited

White to join the Fountain of Hope and bring his experience to bear on

young men and women suffering through challenges similar to those White

confronted.

“One of the good things about bringing Terry here is that he has had

his own struggles – very similar struggles to the youth we bring inside these

walls,” the reverend said. “He is an excellent example of someone who has

turned his life around, discovered his talents, and is now using them to help

others. In fact, if you look at the Fountain of Hope’s leadership, you will see

similar stories to Terry’s in terms of having potential taken away in our

youth, but finding it again as adults.”

As inspiring as White’s story may be to young men and women

desperate for good role models, his visible athletic career and the ties forged

during that brief era of his life are enticing to an organization fighting to stay

afloat. It’s a testament to the power of Buckeye football that an all-Big Ten

defensive back from a quarter-century ago who crashed and burned multiple

times during those 25 years, can still open doors to donors.

“The Fountain of Hope has struggled to get funding during its

existence and they have nearly closed the doors several times,” White said.

“But we have goals now. We’re building a calendar filled with fundraising

opportunities. We’ve applied for state and federal grants and have gotten

sponsors for several of our initiatives. When I started six months ago, there

were probably 4 or 5 children finishing the program. When we completed

our last summer session we had 22 children involved in the Fountain of

Hope.”

White has also reached out to former teammates and the university

seeking assistance for the inner city refuge. He has gotten positive responses

and his efforts are beginning to pay dividends for the non-profit gradually

moving from life-support to a more stable financial footing.

One senses that while the athlete turned drug dealer, turned counselor

to youth, has closed the door on his past, pain is still there. The anger

associated with a dysfunctional home and a society that valued his ability to

run and jump more than his soul has largely been compartmentalized and no

longer weighs in on his decision-making. However, now, White must

wrestle with the lost years. Time lost building relationships with his

children. Time lost establishing a career with which he can support his new

family (White is engaged to be married soon and is expecting his seventh

child). And there will always be the question of whether, with more

discipline, he could have succeeded in the NFL.

“What the world calls a conscience is also a divine spark available to

guide us. I finally started to pay attention to that conscience and when the

world was telling me ‘no’ I couldn’t escape drugs, it was telling me ‘yes’ I

could. The last time I was in prison, I really dedicated myself to finding out

who I was. I didn’t have athletics anymore, but I didn’t have to have drugs

anymore either. I finally realized that I have many other gifts – the ability to

communicate, the ability to reach young people caught up in many bad

behaviors, and the ability to love. I use those now in my life at home and in

the community and I love what I have become.”