BILLINGS — The first time I met Lew Morris I was so nervous, he had to notice the distress on my face.
I was 14 years old sitting across the desk from the Billings Mustangs' general manager. It was sort of my first real interview, only I wasn't asking the questions.
I had applied to become a Mustangs bat boy. Mind you, this was the professional team I'd idolized since my tee-ball days, and baseball was my sport. Kids all over the Billings area were invited to submit written "applications" before the short list was whittled to 10 interviews.
I attached one of my Little League trading cards to my letter, hoping the addition would stand out among applicants. It did, and there I was, sitting across from Morris, the decision maker.
Ultimately, I wasn't selected for my first "dream job." But those of us fortunate enough to interview received a Mustangs season pass. I spent a lot of time at Cobb Field that summer.
Fast-forward to my senior year at Billings West High School — my last semester, in fact — and I needed an elective credit. Morris's mass communications class caught my eye. What a difference that would make.
For our final project, friends Mike Willett and Aaron Kramer joined me on a collaboration of producing a cheap TV knockoff of the Barry Switzer Show. Switzer was the University of Oklahoma's head football coach and I was headed to OU that fall as a student.
We didn't have any fancy editing equipment, so we made do. Another buddy had one of the first versions of those gigantic home satellite dishes. I asked him to record — on VHS tape — one of Switzer's shows.
Willett, Kramer and I connected two video cassette records (VCRs) and did our best to cobble up a 10-minute version of Switzer's show. The three of us recorded our on-camera segments pretending to ask Switzer questions, then roughly "edited" Switzer's answers into our video.
The transitions between Q&A were filled with static, so we attributed those rough patches to "technical difficulty."
Morris awarded us an A on the project and that was my first venture into sportscasting.
I decided to send a copy to Switzer's football office, knowing full well he'd never see it. But just in case, I let him know we made an A on the project and that I was headed to OU as a big Sooners fan.
Two months later in August, days before I was packed up for OU, I opened the mailbox to find an envelope marked with University of Oklahoma Football letterhead. Jaw dropped for what seemed like an hour, I was almost too stunned to open it.
When I did, Switzer had written back saying, "Scott, great job on the video. Glad you made an 'A' — thanks for being a Sooners fan. Barry Switzer."
I couldn't wait to tell Morris the story. When I did, he was thrilled.
As my sportscasting career developed through the years in Billings, Morris would often approach me at games asking if I remembered that video, and reminiscing on how great it was that Switzer replied. Morris, with a wide grin, would jokingly tell anyone within earshot that he was responsible for launching my career. And I would always agree.
Morris passed away peacefully on Aug. 18 at the age of 90, according to his obituary. He was born on May 11, 1934 in Midwest, Wyoming.
His contributions were countless to the local school district, Billings Mustangs, Billings America Legion Baseball and the Billings-based Midland Roundtable.
Morris taught for 37 years at West, managed the school newspaper and eventually retired in 1999 from Billings Public Schools. He served as athletic director during his last 13 years at West, announced Golden Bears' basketball games, city track and field events, and for years was the PA announcer for the state wrestling tournament, along with several state basketball tournaments, here in Billings.
Morris was preceded in death by his wife, Allene; sister Carol Rorabeck and brother Larry. He is survived by daughter, Tammi (Morris) Russell; son-in-law Ron; and son Jeff Morris.
A celebration of life for Lew and Allene is scheduled for Sept. 15 at DanWalt Gardens in Billings from 1-4 p.m.
If only I'd known on that first intimidating encounter at age 14 the direction Lew Morris would eventually point my career. Maybe I would've lightened up. Maybe I would've talked my way into the bat boy job.
Reflecting now, three things stand certain: I'll never forget that interview, or the career spark he gave me years later — or the Barry Switzer story.
