'What would Jarvis do?' Reflections in the wake of the death of Plainview's beautiful soul, Jarvis Anderson

Mar. 27—PLAINVIEW — A scene that Mike Buringa will never forget — and he witnessed it more than once — was Jarvis Anderson emerging from the Plainview dugout, seeking out the baseball umpire to tell him that he'd gotten his call wrong.

But it's not what you'd think, unless you really knew Jarvis Anderson.

Starting in 1977, and forevermore, Jarvis never complained about an umpire's call unless he regarded it as going unjustly in his team's favor.

"If Jarvis thought an umpire got a call wrong to his team's benefit, he'd tell the umpire to send the (Plainview) runners back a base," Buringa said. "It didn't matter if it took a run away from his team. Umpires would see Jarvis coming out of the dugout and they'd say, 'Here we go again.' "

A whole lot of things changed for Anderson beginning one fateful day in October of 1977. It was then, says Buringa, that the big man from the farming community of Milaca, Minn., had two things happen — he stopped abusing alcohol and was "introduced to Christ" at the institution that was treating him for alcoholism.

Anderson embarked on a mission of kindness and service every day since. Last week, March 20, that beautiful journey finally ended, the longtime coach, high school teacher, counselor and Plainview resident dying at his home while surrounded by family. Anderson was 89.

"Jarvis was like a second father to me," said Buringa, a Plainview native who met Anderson when he was 5, played in the grade-school recreation baseball league that Anderson ran in Plainview, suited up for him in the early 1980s at Plainview High School and stayed tightly connected with Anderson the rest of his life.

Beginning with Buringa's graduation in 1985, Anderson wrote him letters once every couple of months, just to check in. That went on for 38 years.

Scott Flattum, Plainview-Elgin-Millville's baseball coach of the last 21 seasons, has similar Anderson stories.

Anderson once showed up at Flattum's doorstep following a particularly tough playoff loss by Flattum's team. Anderson was simply there to tell the coach to hang in there, to provide support.

"Jarvis had this sense when people were struggling," Flattum said. "He never asked if you were struggling. But he had this sense and always took that extra time. I can still see him right now, getting out of his car and walking up to our front door. He was always there to share his own experiences and his own mistakes."

Anderson's early days were filled with mistakes. The trouble was incited by his twin demons at the time — his temper and his alcoholism.

Anderson's coaching career began at Milaca, directing its high school football team. But it was short lived. Anderson told Buringa that he was fired from that job for being too hard on his players.

That led him to Plainview, where he displayed more of that fiery coaching combativeness and coupled it with his abuse of alcohol. Plainview school officials had soon seen enough and told him to get help.

He did, in 1977. Anderson came out of treatment a different person.

"Someone there led Jarvis to Christ," Buringa said. "What drove Jarvis (from then on) was his spiritual life. You can't do justice to Jarvis without mentioning his faith. That was everything to him. He walked the walk like no other."

Stories of Anderson's service, big and small, are countless.

—Once, while driving through rural Wisconsin, Anderson witnessed a church burning in the distance. He drove to the site where he came upon a distraught priest who told Anderson he doubted that the structure would ever be fixed due to a lack of funds.

Anderson told him to keep the faith. Then, for years, he helped see to it that the church was repaired, continually sending the priest checks. That finally stopped when the priest wrote him back, telling Anderson that the fixes had been made and thanking him for all of his contributions.

—Anderson once regretfully missed the wedding of one of his former Plainview players, Steve Becker. Ten years later, Anderson stumbled upon the Becker original wedding invitation in his home and realized he'd also forgotten to send him a gift. A few days after that — 10 years post-wedding — a gift arrived at the Becker home, a card accompanying it from Anderson, complete with an apology.

—Just short of Christmas every year, Anderson would stop by the office of the Post Bulletin. In his hands were cookies for each of its sports writers and handwritten notes for each, telling them of his appreciation for their work and their support of local sports.

"He had no reason to do that other than just being generous and thoughtful,"

former Post Bulletin sports editor Craig Swalboski

said. "He's one of the finest humans I've ever known. And all of his community stuff, it went way beyond grooming the ballfield. He had a night of open gym he supervised (every Wednesday) and young people from different towns would come and play. Jarvis would give a short talk (at those sessions) about his alcohol recovery."

When it comes to Anderson, who won countless service awards as well as coaching achievement honors in baseball, it was his mentorship and example that always meant the most.

Buringa has considered having a bracelet made in his memory with the letters WWJD inscribed.

For Buringa, it would be the perfect reminder: "What would Jarvis do?"

—A funeral service for Anderson will be Saturday, April 1, at 11 a.m. at Church of Christ in Plainview. Burial will follow at St. Joachim's Cemetery. Visitation is Friday, March 31, from 5-8 p,m. at the Plainview-Elgin-Millville High School gym and 1 hour prior to the service at the church on April 1.