A few years ago, representatives of Tatum proposed a reconciliation with Stingley to be televised on Fox. Stingley was all for it until late Globe sportswriter Will McDonough called and told him Tatum was coming out with a new book and wanted to use the interview to boost sales.
If ever bitterness was going to overtake Stingley, that would have been the day. That incident changed his point of view, but it didn't change him. It didn't harden his heart. All it did was change the meaning of reconciliation for him.
"Each time we've been contacted by people representing Jack, there always turned out to be another agenda," Sands said. "If Tatum contacted Darryl or me to talk, Darryl would be more than willing to do it. But not for the media. Not for money. Darryl is rightfully cynical about that now."
Not long ago, Stingley was approached by Deion Sanders about sitting down with Tatum for such a meeting to be shown as part of CBS's football pregame package. Sanders told Stingley he was a Christian man, too, and perhaps it would do a lot of people filled with bitterness some good to see how he had handled an incident that changed his life without filling him with hate.
"I told him if they showed up at my door without a camera then we could have some real healing," Stingley said. "This is a world built on hype. Selling newspapers. TV ratings. Those are real. But in my world what's important is to have a forgiving nature. I was always ready for reconciliation with Jack Tatum. I was willing to do it once before until we learned at the final hour that it was about selling a new book. That changed my mind. I could not allow anybody to capitalize on my situation any more.
"I could not understand why a person would still take that approach so many years later. How could he try to take advantage of the situation again? How could he not feel serious regret or remorse for what happened?
"If he called me today, I'd answer. If he came to my house, I'd open my door to him. All I ever wanted was for him to acknowledge me as a human being. I just wanted to hear from him if he felt sorry or not. It's not like I'm unreachable. But it's not a phone call I'll be waiting for anymore."
But if Stingley's prayers for Tatum are answered, the call will come, and if it does, he'll answer because even though his legs were stilled 25 years ago, his heart beats on.
"Maybe this setback will let him take a walk in faith," Stingley said. "Maybe it will unlock his jaw and make him pick up a phone. That night he created for me a life he knows nothing about. Now life and God have taught me to have compassion for that person. If I thought it would help him, I would print my phone number right in your newspaper. If he wants to just sneak me an e-mail he can send one to
www.DarrylStingleyFoundation.com.
"What happened to me 25 years ago will never be forgotten but you can't hold on to bitterness. I can't do much of anything alone but I've been able to put my existence into perspective. I'm not perfect. I get angry. I lash out. But I choose not to hate. It's such a cliche to hate. How can I benefit from that?
"The whole thing about life is it's a trial, but I know why I'm here and I know who I am. When I chose to forgive Jack Tatum years ago, I chose to believe he was tormented, too. Maybe he needed forgiveness. I never got to tell him that, but it can't rain forever.
"I'm one of God's children. Jack Tatum is one of God's children, too. We both have crosses to bear. For each of us there's always a battle between the good side and the bad side. Sometimes the bad side wins. Sometimes the good. It's up to us to make the choice. I choose to believe in God."
Darryl Stingley also chooses to believe in something else. He chooses to believe the phone will ring one day and Jack Tatum will be on the other end. If it does, he'll choose to say "hello" and see where it leads.