I live in Phoenix, Arizona, where my neighbors and I often find ourselves living inside an oven. I mention this because while I whine daily about getting fried by my seatbelt or weeping at the scorched remains of my garden, I must remind myself of one important thing: I no longer have to go outside and work in the heat. I was an amateur sports official for 38 years. Twenty-nine of those here in Arizona. When I had games coming up, I paid close attention to the weather report, because I often had to deal with extreme heat and sometimes that did not go well.

Consider that in baseball, a sport played year-round in the Southwest, I had to don under armor-type clothing, plastic shin guards, a thick chest protector, polyester shirt and pants, a tight wool hat, and a face mask constructed of metal and leather pads. While in football there was no heavy protective gear, the requisite undergarments, long black polyester pants, striped shirt, and cap were not made with hot weather in mind.

As a sports official my primary responsibility was to keep people safe. Every year, officials are required to take classes and clinics, webinars and exams that not only focused on game rules, but on safety protocols, as well. And, still, roughly 9,000 high school athletes suffer from heat-related illnesses annually, including approximately two that result in death. Exertional heat stroke is the leading cause of preventable death in high school sports.

Note that high school athletes are primarily young, healthy individuals, while the average age of a high school sports official is about 56. I didn’t retire from officiating until I was almost 65.

While the Occupational Safety and Health Administration issues safe temperature norms for those who work indoors, there is no such limit in place for those who toil outside. Construction workers, firefighters, miners, agricultural workers, mail carriers, and others must learn to tough it out, as do officials.

***Officiating in the heat can be deadly***.

I was working a varsity high school football game in severe heat one evening, when I noticed two of my crewmates were not in their positions. I looked toward the endzone, where both were lying in the grass, suffering from heat sickness. I’d worked with these men for years and had never seen them go down. One was a medical doctor, and when he said he couldn’t continue, I knew we had a problem, because I also felt ill. I’d had heat sickness at least three other times, so I knew the symptoms and realized that soon I might be lying in the grass with them.

It was just before halftime, so I called the head coaches together and explained the situation. For safety reasons the game could not continue with fewer than three officials, so in an effort to finish the contest, I suggested we run the clock in the second half, which means the clock is not stopped in the usual manner between plays. I considered it a fair and equitable solution. The coaches argued a little, but since neither wanted to return and continue the game at a later date— which would have happened if I went down—they agreed.

I couldn’t have been more surprised when my boss called a few days later and railed at me for running the clock. It seems the losing coach had called to complain.

I held my ground. “I have a right to protect those at a game from harm,” I said. “You know that!”

“Yes, you do, but the rules say your job is to protect players, coaches, and fans. There’s nothing in the book that says you have to protect other officials.”

I almost dropped the phone.

The point, of course, is that it’s not just difficult working in the heat, it can be deadly. In fact, more people die of heat-related injuries every year than in all other weather-related events combined. So, the next time you head out to watch your children and grand-children play a game, carrying your chilled water bottle and hand-held, battery-powered fan, wearing a floppy hat, T-shirt and shorts, maybe you should thank an official, if one passes by. Because without them, there’d be no game. And, after all, sometimes they’re risking their lives for your enjoyment.

Your Forgotten Sons

Inspired by a true story

Anne Montgomery

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to a Graves Registration Company, where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?