At times, it was more challenging, even when he traveled with the Clemson football team, especially to the state of North Carolina. “I remember in the early 1960s, we went to Wake Forest,” said Whitey Jordan, who was a student-athlete on the football and baseball teams in from 1954-57 and an assistant coach with the football program from 1959-69. He knew McGee well.
“When we got off the bus, Herman was met by an African American family, who took him to their home. He couldn’t stay with us in the hotel, so Coach Frank Howard arranged through a Clemson graduate in the area to find him a place to stay. Then, that family brought him to the game a couple of hours before kickoff so he could meet the team in the locker room and start taping ankles.”
And speaking of taping ankles, McGee was very efficient, according to Jordan. “Herman could tape ankles faster than anyone. He could tape more players in 30 minutes than it would take others to do in an hour.”
As you can see by his resume, he had a career as an athletic trainer and equipment manager. In 1967, he was a significant player in Clemson’s plot to wear orange shoes in a game against a top-10 N.C. State team.
That year, the Wolfpack’s defense, led by future N.C. State Head Coach Chuck Amato, had worn white shoes, and it had gotten a lot of attention because of the team’s success. The N.C. State players felt it made them run faster. The Tiger seniors of 1967 decided they would counter that intangible by wearing all orange shoes for the first time.
This was the era well before Nike contracts. Howard could not contact a distributor and order special orange shoes. “My wife Elva and I went around town and over to Anderson to buy up as much orange paint as we could find,” said Fred Hoover, Clemson’s head athletic trainer from 1958-98.
Hoover brought the paint to McGee, who secretly recruited student managers to paint the shoes at night during the week. “They painted the shoes in the early evening after practice and then let them dry. Herman came back around midnight and stashed the game shoes in a hiding place until Saturday.”
Clemson won that game 14-6 over the top-10 Wolfpack, the highest ranked team Frank Howard beat in Death Valley in his 30 years as head coach.
Being a historian, even at the age of 23, I was interested in what it was like in the “good old days.” All of Herman’s stories that night in the home dugout in 1979 were about good people and good Clemson experiences. He could have told some bad ones, but that was not Herman’s nature. He always looked on the bright side of a person.
Former Clemson All-American Joe Bostic confirmed that image of McGee’s disposition. “When I started at Clemson in 1975, I remember coming into the training room in Jervey, and there was Herman singing some little song. We were all dead tired from two-a-day practices, and he was singing.
“I asked him what he was so happy about, and he said he was just thankful to be alive and working.
“That was Herman McGee. I never saw him in a bad mood. He was a very positive and uplifting person.”
While McGee made a great contribution to the Clemson Athletic Department though his daily service (he never missed a day of work due to illness in 46 years), his greatest contribution probably came in his ability to give advice during trying times. That was especially the case in the early 1970s, when integration of athletic teams began.
McGee gave countless words of encouragement and sound advice to young men who had just lost a father, or had never known a father, had just broken up with a girlfriend, were homesick and wanted to transfer or who were struggling with the books.
“Herman helped so many student-athletes, there are too many to count,” recalled Jeff Davis, a freshman in 1978 who did not have a father in his life at the time. “He was the person you went to for advice. He just had a way of leading you down the right path.”
Davis was one of the student-athletes that benefited. He became very close to McGee and was one of the pallbearers at McGee’s funeral.
When I look at the roster of non-coaches on Dabo Swinney’s staff today, I can count four or five who provide the services Herman McGee did by himself for over 40 years. In fact, Davis’ position as assistant athletic director for player relations is the modern-day version of what McGee did for Tiger athletes 40, 50 and 60 years ago.
Jordan might have said it best at the end of our interview. “Herman was beloved by coaches, the athletes and the administration. It didn’t matter if you were white, black or whatever, everyone loved Herman McGee.”
“He was a first-class person,” said Hoover. “He did things right, and you only had to ask him once to do something. You could count on him. He was a people person.”
I remember talking to Bradley about McGee when he was still alive. “When athletes come back to campus, usually the first person they go see is Herman McGee,” said Bradley.
McGee died suddenly on March 8, 1980, just about nine months after we visited in that home dugout and just two months after his mother had passed away. The list of Clemson greats, including coaches, athletes and administrators, who attended the funeral was record breaking.
“I was back in Clemson after my rookie season in the NFL, and I remember when I heard Herman had died,” said Bostic. “I wept that night.
“He was taken from us too soon. I was just 22 years old at the time. Today, I appreciate people like Herman more and more, and I wish I had the opportunity to tell him what he meant to all of us before he died.
“He was royalty to me. He was the heart and soul of what Clemson was all about.”