A final goodbye to the Voice of God
Updated 3/20/2023 12:20 AM
To all good things must come an end — even memorial services for Bill Schonely.
And finally, nearly two months after the famed broadcaster’s death and more than a month following his private and military send-offs, the public got to say farewell to the man who meant so much to so many.
The late, great voice of the Trail Blazers died on Jan. 21 at age 93. His wife of 31 years, Dottie Schonely, passed away little more than a month later, on Feb. 24, at 92. With Bill’s death, an era in Blazer basketball ended.
“He was without question,” former Blazer center Chris Dudley said, “the most recognized and beloved figure in the state of Oregon.”
Schonely’s celebration of life was held Monday at Memorial Coliseum, where the Mayor of Rip City called most of his 2,500-plus games in 28 years as the Blazers’ play-by-play man.
“Schonz was the voice of the Trail Blazers for nearly 30 years,” said Terry Porter, the great guard for the 1990s Blazers and now the team’s chief ambassador. “Some say he forever will be.”
That is particularly true with those in the 40-and-over set, who listened to him on the radio from the team’s inaugural 1970-71 season to his final hurrah in 1997-98. Those were times when radio was king.
“Radio was the medium,” said Kevin Calabro, the Blazers’ TV play-by-play announcer who emceed the event. “There was something magical and mystical about the crack and the hiss of the radio signal, and that baritone voice that would break through and describe all the action. Schonz did it with flair, personality, salesmanship and showmanship. He had a passion for the game, for the Blazers and for his city.”
A few hundred fans spread throughout the Coliseum to listen to a brass quintet from the Oregon Symphony, watch a video collage (and Schonely singing “You Make Me Feel So Young” at a Ten Grands concert) and hear several dignitaries extol the virtues of the man of the hour.
Among those in the crowd was Congressman Earl Blumenauer, who owned two-thirds season tickets for the first several years of the Blazers’ existence and was there for the 1977 championship season.
“When the Blazers started, I had time to go to games,” Blumenauer said with a smile. “And Bill was this presence. Listening to him and seeing him at games was integrated into the Portland experience. It was part of my son’s growing up, too. This was part of the Oregon experience of the late ‘70s.”
Bill Walton moon-beamed in via video from somewhere with seven minutes of hyperbolic discourse, crediting his fellow former stutterer with “integrity, credibility, decency, truth and honesty, which separated Bill Schonely from the mere contenders.”
During Walton’s four seasons with the Blazers (1974-78), Schonely was a constant presence, one of a precious few on the Blazer payroll.
“Bill knew full well everyone has a story,” Walton said. “Bill was the one who was able to tell the story, able to tell all our stories, because he lived them. As Bill created a soundtrack of our lives, he did it faster and seamlessly across all mediums and activities. He made people believe what we were doing was important. He was able to humanize and personalize. He created a media empire that became a business model for anyone, anywhere, forever.”
Declaring Schonely “bigger than life,” Walton placed him on a Mount Rushmore quartet also featuring Chief Joseph, Lewis & Clark and Phil Knight as “pillars of humanity who built Oregon into what it is today.”
As the crowd came up for air, Senator Ron Wyden seized the moment to call Bill and Dottie Schonely “the first couple of Rip City.”
“They were the best of teammates, gazing at each other like high school kids still on their first date,” Wyden said. “How fitting that we are gathered here at the Coliseum, where Bill provided the soundtrack for generations of Trail Blazer fans who were listening in their car radios, in their living rooms or shooting hoops on their community playground.
“When I’m logging miles around Oregon, I roll into a small radio station in an itty bitty town and you will see pictures of Bill Schonely. He was the best ambassador Oregon ever had.
Wyden referenced the “seven wonders of Oregon” — you know, Crater Lake, the Oregon Coast, the Wallowas. “To me,” he said, “Schonz and Dottie will always be our state’s eighth wonder.”
Porter knew Schonely since his rookie year in 1985 and experienced him through his years as broadcaster emeritus and ambassador right to his retirement in April 2022.
“How lucky we were that day that (former president/GM) Harry Glickman called him and asked him to be the voice of the Trail Blazers,” Porter said. “No one led a more full life. He was a vital part of the Blazers’ organization almost to the last day. He loved Rip City, and Rip City loved him back.”
Calabro met Schonely when the Blazer TV voice was beginning his career with the Indiana Pacers in 1979.
“I got to interview Schonz, and he couldn’t have been any more gracious to me, a young guy learning the ropes,” Calabro said. “He had that incredible voice, but also that thick white shock of hair, and the tan. It’s February and the dude has a tan.”
Calabro mentioned several of Schonely’s NBA broadcasting peers, including Joe Tait of Cleveland, Al McCoy of Phoenix, Johnny Most of Boston, Bob Blackburn of Seattle and Chick Hearn of the Lakers.
“Bill’s talent was unmatched,” Calabro said, “but his friendship and caring nature was always the most important aspect of the man.”
One of Schonely’s calling-card phrases was, “You’ve got to make your free throws.” Dudley, a prime defender/rebounder who shot .458 at the line through his 16-year career, took mock umbrage at that.
“I tried to get him to change that to, ‘You’ve gotta get the rebound,’ ” Dudley said with a smile. “He didn’t go for it, though.”
Dudley got to know Schonely better after his retirement as a player. The Schonelys and Dudley and his wife — also named Chris — attended the same church, Lake Grove Presbyterian. Bill introduced the Dudleys to his favorite charity, Providence Child Center, where “Bill’s Kids” benefitted from his involvement.
“You can learn a lot about a person with how they treat someone who can not offer anything in return,” Dudley said. “Bill was amazing with those kids.
“As great as his public perception was, it was even better in person. When I first got here, Bill told me we had the best fans in the country. The fans’ relationship was great with the players, but it was even deeper with Bill. He was the one constant with the Blazers. Players come and go, but he was always there — announcing games, doing community service and TV ads, and driving down the freeway in his Cadillac with Rip City license plates.”
Dudley noted Schonely “emceed more charity events than anyone in the history of this state.” I’m not even sure who would be in second place.
“When I saw him the last time in January, he was ready (to go),” Dudley said. “He wanted Dottie to be in good hands and taken care of, but he was at peace. He had lived a good life. No question that when Bill arrives at the gates of heaven, the Lord above will say, ‘Job well done, my faithful servant.’ ”
Damian Lillard spoke of Schonely’s personal interest in him, and his longevity.
“Over the years, I’d see him before games,” the Blazers’ career scoring leader said. “He would wave me over, and it would always be something new. He would ask about my music, my kids, how I’m doing, something about Oakland. That rang the loudest to me. It said something about the kind of man he was, having been around all those decades, being around all those great players, having all those great experiences.
“And for him to be that age and take the time to have that type of investment in this organization and city, and me personally? That meant a lot to me.”
In 2015, Schonely and Lillard filmed a mattress commercial for Standard TV and Appliance. They did the first few takes, then took a break. Lillard spent some time checking out social media and text messages on his phone. Then he looked over at Schonz.
“His head is back, and he is asleep,” Lillard said with a laugh. “I mean, it was three minutes. I said, ‘You fell asleep that fast? Man, you’re getting old.’ He said, ‘I can fall asleep anywhere.’ ”
Graig Flach, associate pastor at Lake Grove Presbyterian, said the congregation was blessed to have Bill and Dottie sing in their church choir.
“A classy couple,” Flach said. “Always impeccably dressed. Always well-behaved. Always gracious and accessible. They always had a kind word for everyone they met. That’s the way they really were. They didn’t just present that. And they really were lovebirds, devoted to each other.”
I didn’t see her at Monday’s service, but Flo Newton has a unique perspective on Schonely. She served as flight attendant on the Blazers’ first private jet, which Schonz dubbed “Blazer One,” from 1989-93.
“The airplane was new and special to everybody,” Newton said. “It was a special group of people. We always had so many laughs.”
Newton said she would often go to dinner with a group that would include coaches Rick Adelman, John Wetzel and Jack Schalow, trainer Mike Shimensky, radio analysts Geoff Petrie or Mike Rice and Schonely.
“We always had a great time together,” she said. The team’s flight attendants “were just fortunate to share some of those times.”
One summer, Schonely accompanied Flo and husband Harry Merlo on an excursion to Alaska on Merlo’s 111-foot yacht. It was a chance for her to get to know the Schonz better.
“Bill was just so kind,” Newton said. “He completely loved what he did for a living. His persona was just exactly who he was. It was not like he was two different people. He took a lot of ribbing. It was hard to get him to pick up a tab, some gags were pulled on him, and so on. But he was always a good sport about everything.”
After my book “Wherever You May Be … Now: The Bill Schonely Story,” was published in November, we were able to do a pair of book-signing events, at Moda Center during a Blazer game and at Charbonneau, where Bill and Dottie lived for nearly 20 years. It was wonderful to see fans spend a precious moment with Bill as he signed a book, telling him what he meant to them and perhaps reliving a story or two with him.
Ill health forced Schonz to cancel two other scheduled signings. But a comment made by a fan who showed up to pay homage to him at Cutsforth’s Market in Canby stuck with me.
“Bill narrated some of the best times of our lives,” Chrissy Curran said. “Please tell him how much we appreciated him.”
Fortunately, many people were able to tell him as much in the final months of his life.
I’m going to defer to two men of the cloth for the final word on Bill and Dottie. First, to
Flach.
“They are headed for a new life in God’s presence together,” he said. “That’s a beautiful thing.”
And to Al Egg, the Blazers’ team chaplain for 26 years:
“Jesus is the only valid ticket to heaven. Bill and Dottie have their tickets.”
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