I had never suffered a concussion in my life, but there I was, laying on my back in the middle of a field, with a twilight wooziness that made me want to faint. Suddenly, I noticed a hand enter my cloudy visual field and a voice asked me how many fingers he was holding up. Three, I said, and as I did, I began to come out of it. I was able to see to whom the hand belonged: Butch (we used to call him that) Bradley! …
Walter Bradley reached out his hand to many people.
Back to the concussion. Butch had started a Campus Crusade intramural football team, and we won all our games but one—the one in which I got the concussion. I reached down to grab a guy’s flag and accidentally got kneed in the head. Butch played both ways on the team, and he was aggressive, passionate and really good. He was somewhat of a legend at the time (for reasons that will become evident), but getting down and dirty with the Crusade students and me was one of the things I’ve always loved about him: He is an absolutely extraordinary human being manifested by a down-to-earth, humble, “ordinary” kind of personality. As I write this, I’ve known Walter for fifty years, and he has always had a humble, servant’s heart in spite of the stunning accomplishments he has done and the amazing person he has become.
We are the Walter Bradley Center because we strive to continue the legacy of giving hope to people today to realize their dreams in an age of great science advances and opportunities.
Note: Moreland has also offered some thoughts about his own struggles with psychiatric disorders and how his faith and philosophy have helped him.
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