Schuckman: Lepper was big man with big heart, big laugh and big personality

QUINCY — When Tom Lepper stepped away from his role as an assistant coach with the Quincy High School boys basketball program two seasons ago due to health concerns, a number of people asked if a story would follow.

The only way I’d write one, I continuously reiterated, was if he wanted to talk about it.

He didn’t.

“Don’t write about me dying,” Lepper said. “Promise me that.”

Two years went by, along with the ups and downs of chemotherapy and radiation and the other challenges brain cancer presents, without that promise being broken. Lepper never wanted pity or sympathy or attention. The former QHS and Quincy University basketball standout wanted to live his life, not regret it.

He did so until his final breath. The 50-year-old Lepper passed away Thursday afternoon in his home surrounded by his family. In the hours after he passed, as text messages and phone calls were made and tears and memories were exchanged, one thing became clear.

I needed to break my promise.

So, Lepp, I’m sorry, but the story of your life — not your death — deserves to be told.

Next week, Lepper will be inducted into the Quincy Blue Devils Sports Hall of Fame as an athlete and a coach. He spent more than half of his life involved with the QHS boys basketball program, first as an all-state forward and later as the head sophomore coach and assistant varsity coach.

You can look at the numbers he posted — 14.9 points and 8.7 rebounds per game as a senior at QHS, and then 1,139 points and 693 rebounds in a four-year career at QU — to see the 6-foot-9 Lepper earned his Hall of Fame honors. He was inducted into the QU Hall of Fame last winter.

Basketball paved the way for his education and opened doors for him to make an impact on future generations, but basketball was only part of his story.

Lepper was a big guy with a big heart, a big laugh and a big personality.

He was a respected and valued educator at Quincy Junior High School who opened his classroom and his home to those in need. He was a trusted friend who could make himself at home in any setting. He was a compassionate husband, having recently celebrated a 26th anniversary with his wife, Sara. And he was a proud father, having coached both his daughter, Jordan, and his son, Brennan, at different stages of their basketball careers.

Above all, he loved to live for the moment.

As I spun through the rolodex of memories, I couldn’t think of a single time where he didn’t say or do something that made you chuckle. The conversations during poker games, eating popcorn in the stands at Blue Devil Gym, the afternoon drives on county roads and the lunches at local restaurants can’t be replaced.

I remember the looks and the hand gestures he’d make when I’d walk into Blue Devil Gym during a practice. He’d take my voice recorder when I wasn’t looking and leave me messages I wouldn’t hear until later that night. When I started taking photos at games, he’d try to find a way to get me distracted so he could snare my camera and take some photos.

He also had a way of spotting me taking photos of the sideline huddle and then mean-mugging it until he burst into laughter.

He never could stay serious for too long. Life was just too much fun.

I wish now I had kept all of the funny little messages he left on my recorder or saved some of the fuzzy photos he snapped, but the memories he made, his say-whatever-comes-to-mind text messages and his loud laugh are what everyone will cherish.

The fact I broke my promise would give him reason to grumble, and he undoubtedly would bark at me in his unique way before shrugging it off and saying something sarcastic to make us both laugh. In Tom Lepper’s world, life was truly too short to dwell on being upset.

So I know he’d forgive me for writing about him and shedding light on the man he was, the man we loved, the man we were blessed to call our friend.

And I will make one last promise I know will be kept by all of those he impacted.

Lepp, you will never be forgotten.