Frank Layden never stopped giving back

I got a call from Jerry Howarth a couple of weeks ago. It had been 40 years, give or take, since we last talked but I knew who it was because there are some voices you don’t forget and this was one of them.

In a lot of ways, Jerry Howarth is his voice. He did play-by-play for the Toronto Blue Jays from 1981 to 2017. He was on the call for the team’s back-to-back World Series wins in 1992 and 1993. There are people in Toronto who to this day wear Blue Jays jerseys with “Howarth” on the back. I half expected him to launch into “and that ball is going, going … it’s outta here.”

But he wasn’t calling to talk about baseball, he was calling to talk about Frank.

There’s been a lot of that going on since Frank Layden, the former Utah Jazz coach, general manager and president, passed away a month ago at the age of 93.

“I want to share with you why Frank was the one person in my life who guided me to my wonderful 36 years broadcasting Blue Jays games,” Jerry said, “my career would not have happened without Frank.”

Jerry then proceeded to tell the story of how it was Frank who talked him into getting back into the sports business in 1979 — the year the Jazz moved to Utah from New Orleans.

Howarth had been the baseball play-by-play broadcaster for the Salt Lake Gulls for three seasons from 1976-78, followed by a year broadcasting games of the Utah Pros, the minor league basketball team that went out of business when the Jazz arrived.

Now, with no games to broadcast, Jerry, who had majored in economics in college, landed a job with the Salt Lake Chamber of Commerce as assistant economic director, a great position with a promising future.

That’s when Frank entered the picture. He knew of Howarth’s play-by-play work. He couldn’t offer him that position with the Jazz, since Hot Rod Huntley was coming with the franchise from New Orleans.

But he could offer him a job as the Jazz’s group sales director.

When Howarth hemmed and hawed about leaving the Chamber, Layden cautioned him to never let go of his dreams.

“The longer you stay away from sports and the radio the less your chances of becoming a major league broadcaster,” he told him, “which I know is what you really want to do.”

Frank Layden “was not only one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, but certainly the most influential person in my career. He knew what I wanted to do and was looking out for me to get there.”

Two years later, after listening to an audition tape Jerry sent them, the Blue Jays called.

“And the rest,” he said in his inimitable announcer voice, “is history.

“What can I do for you?” “How can I help?” “If anything comes up, just give me a call.”

At Frank’s funeral mass at the Cathedral of the Madeleine, his son Scott reminded everyone that variations of those phrases were how his dad always ended a conversation. Then Scott added, “And he meant it.”

Beyond making sure the Jazz, and Frank and Barbara, stayed in Utah, the outsized legacy Frank leaves is of a person constantly looking out for others. As funny as he was, he gave people a lot more than laughs.

No one can speak to this any better than Richard “Smitty” Smith, a Jazz scout for 40 years who became one of Frank’s closest friends.

“Maybe it was because we’re both from the east,” says Smitty, a native of Connecticut. “But we just clicked.”

In his declining years, when he could no longer drive, Smitty spent a lot of time driving Frank to events “he could never say no to.”

“I don’t know if he ever turned down an opportunity to appear at a fundraiser or a charity event or some kind of speaking event that would help some group’s cause,” he says. “The vast majority of the stuff he did locally he did for no pay or honorarium or anything, he just did it to help out. If somebody asked, he’d go.

“I know it sounds cliche, but he really enjoyed the opportunity to give back to other people.”

He did it right to the end, says Smitty, relating an incident from Frank’s hospital room not long before he died.

Frank went in the hospital on Super Bowl Sunday of this year and never left. Soon after being admitted he underwent a tracheotomy and was given a feeding tube. The man who was never at a loss for words now couldn’t speak.

Relates Smitty: “Three weeks before his passing he was in his hospital room and we (Smitty and his wife Linda) were visiting him and reminding him that we were going to Los Angeles that weekend to watch the Dodgers play.

“He starts motioning to me like he wants to tell me something, but he had the tracheotomy and had a hard time communicating. He tried writing something down, but that was difficult for him too. I said, ‘Coach, I’m sorry, I can’t understand.’ He kept motioning and that went on for like ten minutes until I finally began to piece it together. When we went to the Dodgers game he wanted us to bring back some souvenirs for Omar. Omar was one of the caregivers who was taking care of Frank.

“Trying to interpret correctly, I said, ‘So Coach, are you saying Omar’s a Dodger fan?’ He nods yes. ‘Do you want us to bring him back something?’ He nods again.”

The next Monday, a pile of Dodgers gear was next to Frank’s bed.

When Omar came in, as Smitty tells it, “he noticed the Dodgers stuff in the corner and asked, ‘Did you bring that back for Frank?’ And I said, ‘No, no, this is for you Omar.’

“So Omar’s thanking Frank profusely and Frank’s kinda nodding, giving him a thumbs up.

“This is literally three weeks before his passing and he’s still trying to figure out ways to help somebody else.”

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