Growing up as a black person in East Texas in the 1940s and 1950s could destroy a young man’s self-confidence and optimism, and even limit his achievements in life. But my friend Winston Hill never let racism, bigotry or adversity stand in his way.
With the support of his family, his faith and his friends, Winston wouldn’t allow the world to tell him who he could or couldn’t be.
He wanted to be a tennis champion. So he worked hard and rose to the top in East Texas. Then he wanted to be an offensive lineman. So he played for the New York Jets, protecting Joe Namath’s blindside.
A Super Bowl and a few Pro Bowls later, he wanted to settle down in Denver, and he wanted to be a restaurateur. So he started with Daddy Bruce and eventually opened his own barbecue restaurant on Colorado Boulevard.
Perhaps most importantly, to me at least, is that Winston Hill wanted to be my friend. Every once in a while you’re lucky enough to meet someone who has a deep impact on your life, and Winston counts as one of those people for me.
I met him when I coached football one summer at the Joe Namath Football Camp in Connecticut. We played tennis together, talked football, ate lunch and took walks. Neither of us partied, so we spent the evenings talking about the Bible and our blessings. I was one happy 20-year-old.
Close to retirement, Winston and his wife decided to settle down in the Denver area. When I passed through the city, he’d make time to grab a meal with me at his restaurant. He had a good taste for barbecue.
It would be understandable if the bitter taste of childhood racism and alienation made Winston a harsh, unforgiving adult. Instead, he embodied kindness, forgiveness and humility — the man was fundamentally selfless. He never had a bad thing to say about anyone, even those defensive ends who occasionally made it past him for a sack.
Over a rack of ribs, he told me how his restaurant had been robbed once. Winston himself manned the counter, and he kept a gun stowed back there for the very situation. But in that moment, he looked into the eyes of the robber and decided it made no sense to take his life over a little bit of money. Winston knew the value of human life. It’s probably why he spent so much time helping at-risk youth.
Somehow, for all his accomplishments and stature, he possessed a humility that for most can only be found after God brings you to your knees in desperation.
For Winston, life was about the people around him, especially his family. He valued them above all else. His humility, his kindness and his hard work were apparent to all.
Winston Hill passed away last Tuesday. Colorado lost quite a hero. I lost a special friend and role model.
U.S. Rep. Ken Buck represents Colorado’s 4th Congressional District.
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