By Will Vandervort / Photo courtesy Clemson University.

An era ended on June 30, 1974, when Frank Howard officially retired from the payroll at Clemson University. But instead of playing golf or fishing as most men do after they retire, Howard never truly left Clemson as he came to his office seven days a week in the Jervey Athletic Center, beating most of the regular hired hands to work every morning.

“When I die, I want to be buried up there on that hill (Cemetery Hill) behind the stadium,” Howard was known to say. “I want to be there so I can hear all those people cheering my Tigers on Saturday and where I can smell that chewing tobacco in every corner of the stadium. Then, I won’t have to go to Heaven. I’ll already be there.”

Howard spent most of his last days answering mail, which arrived regularly, or accepting another speaking engagement, or lining up some advertisers for the Kickoff Publishing Company with which he had an affiliation.

Clemson’s most animated figure retired from the coaching ranks on December 10, 1969, after 39 years on the job, 30 of which were as head coach of the football program.

“I had to do it sooner or later,” he liked to joke. “The reports would get out every year that I was retiring, and it would ruin my recruiting. The only way we’re going to build this place up is to get a coach in here who isn’t retiring every year.”

Howard stayed on as athletic director at Clemson until February 4, 1971, when he was named assistant to the vice president of student affairs at the university. He held that post until the mandatory retirement age of 65 rolled around in 1974.

Clemson’s “Legend” stepped onto the rolling hills of Clemson in August, 1931, fresh from the varsity football ranks at the University of Alabama where he was a starter on Wallace Wade’s 1930 team, which drubbed Washington State, 24-0, in the 1931 Rose Bowl. Howard was known as the “Little Giant” on the Tide’s “Herd of Red Elephants.”

The balding Howard came to his first coaching post under Jess Neely as a line coach for the Tigers.

“At least that was my title,” Howard recalled years later. “Actually, I also coached track, was ticket manager, recruited players and had charge of the football equipment. In my spare time I cut the grass, lined tennis courts and operated the canteen while the regular man was out to lunch.”

Howard liked to joke he became a coach because “they got to take a shower bath every day.”

Howard coached the line until Neely went to Rice University as head coach in 1940 following Clemson’s victory over Boston College in the 1940 Cotton Bowl. When the Clemson Athletic Council met to name a successor to Neely, Professor Sam Rhodes, a council member, nominated Howard to be the new head coach.

Standing in the back of the room listening to the discussion, Howard said, “I second the nomination.” Howard was given the job and a one-year contract, which he lost after about three months.  He never had another contract his entire career.

Howard had the reputation of being a jokester, hillbilly and country bumpkin. A thick Alabama drawl helped the effect. In reality, Howard was one of the nation’s most successful coaches. When he retired, he was one of five active coaches with 150 or more victories.

The Country Gentlemen were champions in their first three bowl ventures, beating Boston College, Missouri and Miami by a combined five points. Howard, who was line coach in one and the head coach in the other two, liked to say, “We humiliated all three of ’em.”

Howard guided the Tigers to four more bowl games overall – the 1952 Gator Bowl, the 1957 Orange Bowl, the 1959 Sugar Bowl and the 1959 Bluebonnet Bowl.

In his 30 years as the head football coach, Howard won 165, lost 118 and tied 12.

Howard was named Southern Conference Coach of the Year in 1948. And in 1958 he was named Atlantic Coast Conference Coach of the Year. He received the honor again following the 1966 season.

Howard, who coached nowhere else but at Clemson, won ACC championships six times (1956, ’58, ’59, ’65, ’66 and ’67) in the first 15 years of the conference.

Howard was born at Barlow Bend, Ala., or as he used to say, “three wagon greasins’ from Mobile,” on March 25, 1909.  He spent his early days on the farm playing mostly cow pasture baseball because there were not enough boys around the community to form a football team. Howard said he left Barlow Bend walking barefooted on a barb wire fence with a wildcat under each arm.

He graduated from Murphy (now Mobile) High School where he played football, baseball and basketball as well as served as president of both his junior and senior classes.

After graduating from Murphy High, Howard entered the University of Alabama in the fall of 1927 on an academic scholarship provided by the Birmingham News. He played guard as a reserve his sophomore year. During his junior year he started every game, but two, as an ankle injury sidelined him then. During his senior year, he was again a regular in the lineup.

For over five decades Howard was in great demand both as a banquet speaker and as a clinic lecturer. Few states escaped his homespun oratory, which brought the house down on many occasions. Many felt his digs, especially if they had been to the podium before Howard.

Many stories have been told on Howard, but for every one poked toward him, he can fire two back.  People found that it was best not to throw too many darts in Howard’s direction, especially if he was given the opportunity to have the microphone again.

Most stories told on Howard were true, and some fiction have been told so many times Howard believed they were true. Howard was even known for making one up a time or two, just to keep people guessing.

Howard died in January, 1994, and left behind a legacy that will probably never be equaled in the annals at Clemson. His honesty, humor and “down to earth” sense of humor will be remembered for other generations to pass on. And, as he wished for, he is buried behind Death Valley, where he can hear the roar of the crowd cheering for his Tigers on Saturdays in the fall.

“It is understandable that many devoted Clemson followers cannot separate Howard and Clemson,” the late Dan Foster of the Greenville News once wrote. “He enjoyed coaching as few coaches ever do, because he lived it. His grief made his losses sweeter for his foes, and his victories were untenable because his joy was unrestrained.

“On the personal note, Howard was noted chiefly for his country bumpkin manner. He received much criticism for it. But the grammar is not the chief feature of Frank Howard. Nor is his genius, nor his humor, nor even his large ego. They are all part of him, but his main guns are integrity and loyalty.”

Editor’s note: This story was an insert from the book I co-authored last summer called Clemson: Where the Tigers Play, which you can buy on amazon.com. This is the fourth in a series of stories that chronicles how these coaches turned Clemson into the football power it has come to be over the years.