As he battles pancreatic cancer, Ted Ginn feels a greater sense of mission and passion for young people.
Watch video
CLEVELAND, Ohio -- At the age of 59, Ted Ginn has stared death in the eye as a man who came through pancreatic cancer in 2012.
"Only five percent live this long," he said. "Going on two-and-half years. I feel pretty good, just some pain now and then."
Ginn went for a doctor's visit last week.
"He said I didn't need to see him for six months," Ginn said. "I'm not one to give testimonies at our church prayer meetings ... but that night, I did! God still has something for me to do."
The Glenville High School football coach then switched gears and began to talking about "changing lives and saving lives." He talked about Ginn Academy, the all-boys school on East 162nd Street that he founded in 2007.
"You know what's wrong?" asked Ginn.
You could see the coach had something on his mind, something much bigger than football.
"We're in trouble in this country because there are not enough people at the table," he said.
Then he stared at you, waiting to see if you can connect the dots.
"They talk about some of our (Ginn Academy) students being 'at risk,'" he said. "Well, we're all at risk because not enough people are at the table."
Then Ginn told a story about how growing up, his grandparents were at the dinner table every day. And his mother. And him. And they were all expected to be there.
"And you learned at the table, the core values," he said. "What we think are the old-fashioned values. Not enough people are talking about what God means to them. Not many people are at the table for these kids."
That's why Ginn believes things such as football are important. And schools such as Ginn Academy are crucial. And places for kids to go after school that are safe are necessary.
"It's why so many kids want to hang around in my office, or with the teachers here." he said. "It's the table to them."
THE MOTHER'S TABLE
Ginn played football at Glenville, a center for star quarterback Terry Jones, who played football at Indiana and also pitched the Tarblooders into the 1973 state baseball finals.
Ginn graduated in 1974, and went to work as a machinist at Warner-Swasey.
"I lived with my mother (Lear)," he said. "She died when I was 19. She was 38 and had a brain aneurysm. My mother loved me and she loved Seagram's gin."
He paused.
"I loved my mother and she loved me," said Ginn. "She worked for a lighting company. She made $68 a week. She drank, but she sacrificed. She went to work every day. She worked herself to death to take care of me."
He paused again.
"The Christmas right before she died, I bought her all new furniture," he said. "I wanted to pay her back for all the sacrifices."
Ginn said the day before his mother died, a friend of his was shot driving down Euclid Avenue around East 118th Street.
"He went to the hospital," said Ginn. "He got shot through the windshield and it messed up part of his face, but he was OK. After I left the hospital, I took his car and cleaned it up."
Ginn said the next afternoon, he received a message at work to "Call the hospital" with a phone number. He figured it was about his friend, and waited a few hours to call.
Instead, it was about his mother.
"They said she was there and I needed to come down and sign some papers," he said. "I couldn't believe it. My mother was never sick."
Turned out, she was in a coma from the aneurysm. She died three days later.
"It still bothers me that I didn't call right away," he said. "I tell my kids not to wait. Don't cause worry for your parents or those who love you when you get a message. Just call."
Ginn thought of the last words he heard from his mother.
"She didn't want me to drive down the part of that street where my friend was shot," he said. "She was worried about me right to the end."
He paused one more time and said, "She never got to enjoy that new furniture."
THE NEW TABLE
Ginn's home was on East 129th Street, not far from St. Clair Avenue. Not long after his mother died, he was watching Glenville's football team practice. Tarblooders coach James Hubbard asked Ginn to help teach the team's center how to snap the ball.
Ginn did and when he finished, Hubbard said, "Come back tomorrow."
Ginn returned the next day. And the next day. And he kept coming back.
"Coach wanted me close," said Ginn. "He knew that I had lost my mom and I was living alone. I'd go to the factory, then I'd go to practice."
Ginn lived upstairs in a house owned by the Flint family. After his mother died, Frank Flint had a meeting with young Ted.
"We always talked in the basement," said Ginn. "He had a little bar down there. He'd ask me to get him some ice, then he'd pour a drink. Chivas Regal. He'd put on some Al Greene (Motown music)."
Ginn's mother was paying $80 a month at the time of her death in 1976. But Mr. Flint raised it to $90.
"I couldn't understand it," Ginn said. "I'd just lost my mother, and now he wanted $90. He said if I didn't like it, I could move somewhere else."
Ginn checked the real estate advertisements in the newspaper. He asked around. He realized that he had a good deal.
There was another basement meeting. Mr. Flint explained what Ginn was receiving for $90. Mrs. Alice Flint was doing Ginn's laundry. Ginn had total access to the house, including the refrigerator. He often ate with their family.
Their children -- Donna, Tina and Eric -- became his siblings.
"They gave me a table," Ginn said. "That's what is missing in too many neighborhoods. You don't see people opening up their tables."
Ginn stayed with the football team as a voluntary assistant for 10 years. He also was hired as a security guard at the school. In 1997, he became the head coach at Glenville.
"Glenville taught me how to be a machinist," he said. "The school gave me a place to go after my mother died. Then I began to work there. Then I coached there."
It became another table.
CARDALE JONES TABLE
Ginn Academy is one of those tables for Cardale Jones.
Ted Ginn Sr. listens as Ohio State quarterback Cardale Jones announces that he will go back to Ohio State to finish school during a press conference at Ginn Academy.Lisa DeJong / The Plain Dealer
When the Ohio State quarterback announced he was returning to the Buckeyes for another season, Ginn was in the national spotlight. Jones made the announcement at Ginn Academy, where he attended school. Ted Ginn was one of his advisors, and he was interviewed by the national media.
Jones had just led the Buckeyes to the national championship. He was eligible to enter the NFL draft. He was projected by ESPN's Mel Kiper and others to be second-round pick. There would have been a signing bonus of at least $2 million.
Jones turned it down.
"You know how long we talked about that?" asked Ginn. "Maybe 10 minutes. He wanted to finish his degree. He is close. I wanted him to get it in the spring, but he may have to wait until (the fall). He wants to be a financial planner. He wants the degree. I didn't talk him into anything."
Ginn smiled, shook his head. He thought about a young Cardale Jones at Ginn Academy. Almost as if he were flashing back a few years, Ginn began to say:
"Cardale, put your tie on."
"Cardale, get in line."
"Cardale, keep your shoes on, wear your socks."
Ginn laughed and said, "It was all about giving him structure."
More than once, Ginn benched Jones for being late for practices or school.
"But you don't give up on a kid," he said. "You have to go into it thinking that failure is not an option."
THE SCHOOL SHOES
From the outside, the perception is that Ginn spends most of his time with the star players from Glenville, the ones being recruited by all the top colleges.
Yes, he coached Cardale Jones. And he coached Browns safety Donte Whitner, who donated $50,000 to Ginn Academy in 2014. And he coached former Buckeye and Heisman Trophy winner Troy Smith.
He has coached 22 players who received football scholarships to Ohio State, and more than 100 who have received scholarships to other schools since he became head coach at Glenville in 1997. The Tarblooders have won every Senate championship since Ginn took over as head coach. They have made the state playoffs 13 times.
But much of his day is spent on things like the $45 receipt sitting on his desk.
"We bought him school shoes," said Ginn.
The young man needed dress shoes. He said there wasn't enough money. And for the record, he's not a star athlete.
Ginn noticed he the was wearing Michael Jordan shoes.
"Probably close to $200 shoes," said Ginn.
Ginn admitted there was a temptation to say, "If you can come up with 200 bucks for Jordan's, you can find $45 for school shoes."
But Ginn didn't say that. Instead, he bought the dress shoes.
"Then we talked about shoes," he said. "You have to realize that some young people never had a discussion like that about shoes -- and what kind of shoes are really the most important."
THE SCHOOL STRUCTURE
Ginn Academy has 350 boys. They wear uniforms. Shirts and ties. Dress shoes. Dress slacks. On Fridays, they wear blazers. The have briefcases with the Ginn Academy logo. The school doesn't have sports teams, but kids can play for nearby schools such as Glenville.
The school is Ginn's dream becoming a reality, the only all-male public high school in Cleveland.
"We recently had a problem with a kid who wouldn't wear his tie," said Ginn. "Only, it wasn't really the kid's problem. It was those who are supposed to guide him."
The young man was strong-willed.
"He wanted to see if he could get away with not wearing a tie, and a few times -- he did," said Ginn. "We didn't stay consistent with him. He wasn't really the problem, we were the problem."
Ginn Academy has a graduation rate of 90 percent, according to the school. That's much higher than the average in Cleveland. The school reports about 70 percent of students attend college.
"People want to talk about the curriculum here," said Ginn. "We have the English, math, science and other courses. But we are also teaching life. And discipline."
He paused.
"You know where I was the day after Cardale's announcement?" he asked. "I went to a funeral with one of our students. His mother and father died within three days of each other. Both of them -- gone. His older brother played for me. I kept asking myself what do you say and do when something like this happens?"
A man of faith, Ginn knows that Jesus said to "weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn."
That's what he did.
THE SEARCH FOR SCHOOLS
On Tuesday, coaches from three major football colleges visited Glenville to talk with Ginn about his top players.
After they left, Ginn was interrupted when one of his players wanted to exchange a large football T-shirt for a medium.
"Man, you are too big for medium," said Ginn. "You keep the large."
The young man left. Ginn laughed about kids wanting to wear tight shirts thinking that it shows off their muscles.
He also made a call for a job reference for a former Ginn student.
The phone rang. It was a coach from Ohio Dominican returning a call to Ginn, who was looking for a college for one of his players -- not a top recruit. The player has a 3.0 grade point average and the needed ACT score to receive a football scholarship.
"Hey, even two dollars will help," said Ginn, talking about financial aid.
Ginn already has two players at Ohio Dominican. A Division II school can divide up football scholarships and combine it with financial aid and academic scholarships.
"You have to be creative," Ginn said. "This is a big part of the job, finding schools for kids like this. Only about 2,500 kids across the country get a Division I football scholarship each year. Most kids end up at smaller schools."
SENSE OF URGENCY
You hear that phrase often from coaches trying to inspire their players to pay more attention, deliver more effort. Ginn feels it in a much deeper way.
In 2012, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The one-year survival rate is about 20 percent. It's about 4 percent after five years.
"I was in the bed for 60 days," said Ginn. "You can survive the surgery, but the recovery will kill you. They cut out half of my pancreas and all of my spleen."
Then infection set in. He had four other surgeries.
"At one point, my doctor was at the side of my bed, and I could see him crying," said Ginn. "I could tell, he didn't think I was going to make it. Something like 80 percent of my body was dying. I didn't know that at the time."
A deacon at Greater Friendship Baptist Church, Ginn found himself drawing closer than ever to God. He didn't think he would die. He wasn't afraid of death, but he didn't want to leave Jeanette -- his wife of 30 years. Or his two children -- Tiffany and Ted Ginn Jr. Or all the kids at Ginn Academy, the players at Glenville and all the former players and students whose lives that he has touched.
He was 57. Who wants to die at 57?
"I asked God what he was teaching me through all this," said Ginn. "I kept hearing that I was to be a servant."
He asked God, "What else?"
Ginn said that during those 60 days in the hospital, God "began to speak to me about some changes that needed to be made on our staff."
Ginn began to pray about the different coaches, teachers, administrators, asking for God's wisdom.
"When I recovered, I knew I had to make some changes," he said. "I came away knowing that I needed to love the kids and be even more passionate about them."
WHAT VOICES ARE WE HEARING?
Ginn said he also received a revelation about what he called "The Danger of Hearing."
It's a kid who faithfully attends school. But when he goes home, someone on the street mocks him for wearing a tie and nice clothes. They ask him why he puts up with all the discipline at school.
"Every day, some of these kids hear they won't make it," he said. "It's every day. You come from a home with no father -- you won't make it. You come from the wrong neighborhood -- you won't make it. Over and over, they are told why they won't make it."
Ginn calls some of these people "The Haters." They don't want to see someone succeed because they are beaten down by their own lives.
"My father was not in my life," he said. "My mother was a functioning alcoholic, and she died young. I don't just know the excuses (for quitting), but I have lived through a lot of them. Yes, you lost your mama. Yes, it hurts. But it's not a reason to keep acting out over and over."
Ginn said one of the keys to reaching young men is to find out "why they are angry." They need to open up to someone.
"Some of these kids face problems at home ..." his voice trailed off.
And they begin to hear the "voice of the haters," who want to pull them down.
That's why Ginn believes in the power of the table, a place where young men can go "and hear about hope."
Ginn paused.
"That's what's often missing," he said. "Hope. And examples of what others did in their place to make it. That's gives hope. That's what my life is about. I don't care that I've never won a state title. That's never been what this is all about."