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Greater than a super bowl

coached the World Champion Dallas Cowboys from 1960 until I retired in
I
1988. Except for a stint as a B-17 bomber pilot in World War II, my life has
been focused on football. I loved the rush of adrenaline before a game, the
exhilaration of making a touch-down, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of each

victory, the unique experience of playing in the Super Bowl -and winning a
couple of times.

The deep satisfaction of coaching the players to learn to discipline themselves, to develop their
skills and to work together as a team was a driving force in my life. Encouraging the players to pay
the price for their achieve ments and earning the support of the fans were very important to me. But
there’s a part of my life that most of the mil lions of football fans do not know - my life centers around
God and family - and helping at-risk children.

For many years now I have served on the board of Happy Hill Farm, a children’s home and
special school located in the Texas hills. We simply call it the Farm; it is a five -hundred-acre
working farm complete with horses, cattle and most important, more than one hundred hurting,
troubled children whose families are unable or unwilling to help them.

I’ve seen some great victories on the football field, but far greater are the victories I’ve witnessed
in hundreds of kids since Ed and Gloria Shipman opened their hearts and home about twenty five

years ago. Some kids have survived unimaginable horrors and carry horrendous emotional scars with
them. But more often than not, these battered kids leave the Farm with their life repaired, a high
school diploma in hand, and ready to take on the world again.

Although each kid is special, I remember some more than others. I’ll never forget John, a frail
little boy living with his mother in an abandoned car in a Fort Worth garbage dump before coming to
the Farm. Or Frieda, a young girl who had been sexually abused by her step -father and brother. And
Jack, whose father abandoned his family, leaving a single mom and a young son who always wanted
to die. Jack had tried to take his life many times before coming to live on the Farm. And Amy, whose

parents were in prison. Amy would have been killed had her desperate grandmother not found Happy
Hill Farm.

And then there was Tip, a great kid from a small Texas town not far from Happy Hill Farm. Tip’s
background was plagued with all kinds of problems. And when he slugged a teacher, a judge referred
him to the Farm. Tip was only twelve, but he was large for his age. It was hard to tell that his hair
was red because his father kept it shaved. “It’s easier to see the lice,” Tip quipped.

Tip had been labeled “white trash”. His family’s shack had no indoor plumbing, they got their
drinking water from a well and bathed in a nearby creek. Personal hygiene and social skills were not
high among the family’s priorities. Tip was uncoordinated, unmotivated and volatile. After being sent
to the Farm, he had to be taught how to use a knife and fork. Having spent so much time outdoors, he
had to be coaxed to sleep indoors on a bed. I recall how Tip would ramble through the house,