Frank Marcellus Staley Jr.’s 78 years have been nearly as full as the rooms in his home on the Belleville Road.

If you visit the sizeable, ranch domicile you get his or his wife Valeria’s southern welcome, then your eyes will pop the second you step into the 12-by-16 living room. Cabinets with shelf after shelf of figurines representing every age, piece after piece of art glass on coffee, side, dining and other tables, and dozens of pretty arrangements of artificial flowers. But these aren’t the piece de resistance. Look up on the walls.

In frames, on plaques, and any way they can be presented hang the awards for a lifetime of his athletic, Reserve Officer’s Training Corps, Boy Scout and American Legion sports refereeing attainments. Go in the dining room, then back into the den, look around the kitchen where all the walls are laden. Quite a few are for Valeria who has had her share of honors, too.

Nobody can resist asking: “How did you ever find a place for all these things?”

Valeria laughs, “They just kept coming and we worked them in.”

His father, Frank Sr., was born into an Americus, Ga. family of ministers and educators. With degrees from Morehouse College and Cornell, he came to S.C. State to teach agriculture in 1920.

In addition to teaching, he also coached boy’s baseball and girl’s basketball.

Then, for ten years he taught and coached at North Carolina Agricultural and Technical College in Greensboro, but returned to State every summer for more agricultural professorship. Frank Jr. was born here in the summer of 1930.

Inglorious moments Most of his growing up took place in Savannah where his father continued teaching at what was called “Georgia State” (now Savannah State), and, as in any child’s sports and adventures, he experienced some very inglorious moments.

New roller skates for Christmas provoked a search with pals for a good paved surface. They chose the smooth, polished hardwood of their school’s gymnasium floor. Around and around, faster and faster, what a time they had for an hour. Then, of course, the principal dropped by, pronounced a derogatory oration and called up their fathers. Frank Sr. had his paddle ready; Frank Jr.’s seat made quick, painful contact. The school had to refinish the floor.

Their home sat near an expanse of marshland. His mother warned, “Don’t you go out there in that water. You stay home and do your reading.” He didn’t. She found out; another seat beat followed.

And one more he remembers. In the kitchen, he and his older sister began an argument. As their fury grew, he reached into the sink, picked up one of the supper fish and whacked the side of her head. She howled. Frank Sr. stormed in, shaving cream still on his face. The message came loud and clear with the licks, “Don’t you ever hit another woman.” Frank says humbly, “and I never have.”

“Two point” specialist The Boy Scouts offered him a chance at redemption and he began earning merit badges. He continued this quest toward Eagle rank after the family moved back to Americus, where his father worked with the WWII War Farm Administration. Junior spent afternoons practicing football during the week, and warming the bench during games. In basketball he starred, but in a bizarre sort of way as a “two point specialist.”

“In nearly every game the coach would tell me to go in. Not always, but usually, I managed to drop in a two pointer, but just one. After a few minutes, coach called me out again. But, I loved those sports.”

In 1946, after graduation from Americus’ Staley High School, named after his grandfather, he followed his father to Morehouse, studied mathematics, and began polishing his real talent, team management, for two years. When his father returned to S.C. State in ‘48 as head of the Department of Agriculture, Junior also came for the final college years and more team management plus refereeing. Upon graduation in 1951, the Army laid waiting because of his Reserve Officers Training Corps scholarship.

Lt. Staley served on the line in the Korean bunkers for three and a half years until the truce was signed, then returned home on a troop ship as escort for one of 32 released American prisoners. The family education thirst caught him again as he enrolled at Columbia University in New York to earn a master’s in mathematics.

On a trip home, friends introduced him to Valeria Howard from Georgetown and the Carolina moon began working its charms immediately. They married in 1956 and moved to Fort Valley State in Georgia where he taught and coached for a year before returning to S.C. State to teach math, instruct in the ROTC program and serve as college statistician. The early married years brought them Frank Howard, now an executive at the National Airport in Washington, and Elisa, serving with an insurance company in Orlando.

Now, after hundreds of college and high school games over 31 years, Frank’s interest has never lagged for his great loves: sports, military and scouting. The myriad of awards adorning the walls came one after another, hardly a year passing without his work being recognized by some organization or committee. Most outstanding are the Silver Beaver from the Boy Scouts of America for sixty years of service, the S.C. Officials Basketball Hall of Fame and a State Hall of Fame for himself and his father for their decades of coaching.

Hanging among them are Valeria’s citations for her 30 years of service as chairman of the Orangeburg County Library Commission, and numerous others.

Frank Jr. didn’t retire until 2000. Now he just lives and enjoys.

“I’ve become good friends with so many people everywhere, including three State and Claflin College presidents. I run into my old students all the time. No question, I’m a people person.

Valeria and I hardly miss a function at State or Claflin.

“Oh sure, a few disappointments came along. After I had been associated with the teams for years, a new fellow came into the athletic department and eventually sent a note saying that I could not ride on the team bus to games anymore. Devastated for days, I eventually got a call from a college executive, ‘Frank, we got back to him.’ We said, ‘Don’t touch that.’

“When the family went to the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Mass., my daughter called me to come to where she was standing, pointing to my name on a plaque holding a list of ‘The Outstanding 150 Basketball Officials in the World.’ What a shock. I didn’t know a thing about it.”

Retired editor and public relations executive Thomas Langford’s column is titled “Some Edisto stories.” Let him know if you have stories to share: 803-534-2097.

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