The Hancock legacy.

It has been almost a century since the Babbs Switch fire, and 64 years since Hobart Democrat-Chief publisher Ransom Hancock buried the biggest story of his career out of compassion and kindness. Ransom passed away decades ago, but his legacy lives on. One son, Joe, continued the tradition by running the Democrat-Chief until he passed away. Joe's son—Ransom's grandson—is Todd Hancock, who owns and operates the Democrat-Chief himself.

Ransom's other son, Bill, also spent time running the Democrat-Chief before a distinguished career in collegiate sports. He was the first full-time director of the NCAA Final Four and has served as the Executive Director of the College Football Playoff since 2012. He compiled This One Day in Hobart and wrote a book about dealing with the loss of his son, Will, in the 2001 Oklahoma State University basketball team airplane crash. And he has been kind enough to respond to my questions as I get a crash course in Hobart and Hancock history. 

Right now, he is in Japan for the Olympics, which he has attended since 1984. Berry Tramel of the Oklahoman has been posting Bill's travel journal chronicling his time in Tokyo, and it's worth a read:

Bill Hancock’s Olympic adventure 
​Another Olympiad has arrived, and you know what that means – daily dispatches from everyone’s favorite Oklahoman, Bill Hancock. 
The Hobart native who has carved a career as director of college sports’ biggest events – the Final Four for decades, now the College Football Playoff since its 2014 inception – is a long-time Olympic volunteer, going back to the 1984 (summer) and 2006 (winter) games. 
Hancock writes a daily letter to family and friends, giving them an inside look at Olympic life. He and his wife, Nicki, are in Tokyo. 
“August 4, Wednesday: (Please excuse the typos and bad writing in this friendly message to family members. They are kind and so will not object to sloppiness. Must hurry, because there is a vast Olympics to explore.) 
“Commute on foot four miles through the thrilling city to the Main Press Center. It was a leisurely 90-minute stroll. 
“Yes, I repeated my Olympic tradition by walking from the hotel to the MPC. Bill Mallon joined me again, as he did in Rio. There’s no better way to FEEL a city than to walk through it. Here’s the history of my Olympics walks across town…or sometimes around the block!  
“1984 Los Angeles – One mile; 1996 Atlanta – Three miles; 2004 Athens – 200 yards; 2006 Torino – 400 yards; 2008 Beijing – Four miles; 2010 Vancouver – Seven miles; 2012 London – Six miles; 2014 Sochi – One mile; 2016 Rio – Nine miles; 2021 Tokyo – Four miles. 
“And the Games where I failed to do the walk: 1988 Seoul – Could have walked the five miles or so, but didn’t think of it; 1992 Barcelona – Ditto; 2000 Sydney – Ditto; 2018 PyeongChang – too far, maybe 25 miles. 
“Today’s walk was easy. The sidewalks are wide and so are the pedestrian walkways over the five or six bridges we crossed. When Bill and I left the Hotel Sunroute Ginza at 5:30 a.m. the sun was already up. 
“Nicki later said she wasn’t worried about me except when the earthquake hit. (She has sent me off on many adventurous runs and walks and bicycle rides during our nearly 53 years of marriage, so she’s used to it.) Bill and I didn’t even notice the ‘quake when we were walking. 
“We walked down Harumi Dori Avenue, which then becomes Ariake Dori Avenue.  
“Right off the bat, we strolled past the iconic Kabukiza Theater. 
“We did see the first ‘houseless’ person of our Tokyo trip, splayed on the sidewalk and speaking in I-don't-know-what tongues. I wanted to help him but had no idea what to do. Also, we spotted the first hint of city trash and sort of stained sidewalks like we’d see in a city back home. But that was in a very small area and soon we were back in the glistening Emerald city. 
“We passed a tiny bicycle-repair shop. It was basically the size of our hotel room; inside a little old man toiled away on an old machine, surely making someone happy. 
“We knew we would see a Denny’s restaurant. Down the road, I made Bill stop at one of the ubiquitous vending machines so I could purchase a Coke, but I couldn’t get it to take my credit card. 
“Pretty pedestrian paths carried us along on the four or five bridges which spanned a river and maybe fingers of Tokyo Bay. One shot us over an expressway.  
“We didn’t wear our Olympics apparel. Bill carried my Olympics credential in his bag; I had a credit card and 5,000 yen. No one said a word to us, although a few people bowed politely. I think we blended in. 
“Everyone wore masks. Well, except the dozen or so serious-looking joggers. I must admit that I popped my own mask down into the chinstrap position several times, to let the sweat roll off. 
“I am not proud to admit that I an incorrigible jaywalker. (You see, the traffic signals in Prairie Village are timed to change when a vehicle approaches. But pedestrians aren’t heavy enough to trigger then, although I will be close if I don’t stop eating these Oreos. So a walker could stand there for hours waiting for the light to change. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) 
“Anyway, Bill was the Angel on my shoulder who would not allow me to jaywalk. (Why do my fingers type ‘Jayhawk’ when my brain says, ‘jaywalk?’) 
“It was a warm morning, about 80, and I did some serious sweating which felt great because I was dressed for it. Nicki brought clean clothes to the office for me. It was another great Olympic moment – or 90 of them! 
“Breakfast: Frosted flakes at the office.  
“I’ll tell you about Bill Mallon, my walking companion. A proud Duke graduate (redundancy), he played on the PGA Tour, then became a renowned shoulder surgeon and now editor of the Journal of Shoulder and Elbow Surgery. Oh, and he is also one of the most renowned experts on Olympic history. You could ask Bill how many left-handed, one-eyed people have won gold medals on Thursday in the rain and he could probably tell you. He is uncanny. Bill is one of five volunteers in the USOPC press office, along with Nicki and me and Craig and Beverly Bohnert. 
“Craig may be the most awesome person at these Olympics besides Lester Holt. Every time a USA athlete or team does something, Craig produces a remarkably well written and informative ‘Breaking News’ blurb which gets emailed to reporters, board members and any other official who is lucky enough to receive it. It is truly one of the most amazing journalistic efforts you will ever see. Craig is scholarly and quiet and comes close to perfection, like Mary Lou Retton. Bill Mallon supplies tidbits for Craig for Breaking News, making Team Bohnert-Mallon worthy of the gold medal. Beverly is a type A person who walks as fast as a sprinter, is fluent in French and begins and ends each day talking; she has never met a stranger. She and Nicki sit at the front desk and help reporters. 
“Craig and Beverly, former owners of an inn in Kansas City, own and operate the Paradise Sweets ice cream shop at 709 Gulf Way, St. Petersburg Beach, FL. Shameless plug: Go there if you can! (You can read about the place at Paradise Sweet — singular — on Facebook. You will get good ice cream (another redundancy) and learn something while you’re at it. 
The Olympics is a remarkable venue for bonding and teamwork. Folks are thrown together in a strange country for a month, with no choice but to work it out. A friendly smile can mean more than all of the chocolate sundaes in the world. 
“I try to make eye contact with the security people, bus drivers and volunteers. Hundreds of people sure pass them every day, grunting as they hurry on their way.  
"I have invited at least 1,000 people to visit Nicki and me in Kansas City. Hope I remember to tell her. 
“You won’t be surprised to know that people mention Dorothy almost every time I tell a foreigner I’m from Kansas. Two folks brought up the Jayhawks. One woman told me about a soap opera character who has a big ranch in Kansas. Other times I say I’m from Oklahoma. That either draws a blank stare, or a reference to Indians, or a comment about Rodgers and Hammerstein if the person is older than 60. 
“And nobody cares about conference realignment except a dozen or so American journalists. 
“Volunteer du jour: Hitoshi. Soldier working at the PSA (Pedestrian Security Access.) Are soldiers allowed to be this friendly? 
“For what it’s worth, there are no Olympic traffic lanes, unlike Beijing, London, PyeongChang, et al. But except for rush hour, there’s not a lot of traffic. That’s what a pandemic do (sic). Royals fans will get it. 
“By the way, security is tight but not overbearing. A perimeter extends around the entire venue grounds. There’s only one way in and out, and if you wind up at the wrong place, you may have to walk several blocks to find your way in. 
“You don’t see many armed police officers. I’m sure they are in plain clothes. 
“To get into the Main Press Center each day, here’s what happens. It’s basically the same at the venues: 
“* You get in line, usually short, walk through a temperature-measuring area, then pass through an obligatory hand-sanitizing station. You pump the dispenser with your foot, like a car’s accelerator, and hold out your hands. A fine mist of germ-killing liquid sprays out. 
“* Unlike past games — Rio was the worst — the lines at the PSA (Pedestrian Screening Area) are not long; usually only one or two people are in front of me. 
“* Two young smiling women greet you at the hand-sanitizing station with a cheery ‘good morning.’ It’s easy to be friendly in any language. I always thank them with a bow and an equally cheery ‘Arigatto.’  
“*Then we get to the accreditation-confirmation station. We hold our accreditation in front of a reader and stoop so the machine can take our photo. 
“If the photo doesn’t match the accreditation, we are asked to try again. If that doesn’t work, you get escorted to a separate room where maybe you learn that your accreditation is invalid. This hasn’t happened to me, but it did to one friend and she had to get a new badge. 
“* Each accreditation station serves two x-ray machines. We put our backpacks in one white tray and empty our pockets into another white tray. They scoot through the x-ray, then we walk through ourselves. 
“I’ve been stopped six times to get wanded — never knew why — and always passed just fine. 
“* A police officer, leaning on a four-foot wooden cane, keeps watch, sternly refusing to allow photographs. He doesn’t smile, but I did see him use the cane as a faux baseball bat yesterday. 
“* Then we walk through a nice, shady breezeway into the MPC. 
“We wear these accreditations on lanyards around our neck all day. It’s not a problem. In a box in the basement, I have all my badges dating back to Los Angeles. Except one which is in my office in Irving. I suppose my great-grandchildren will sell them on eBay someday. 
“Covid Countermeasure of the day – There are plastic barriers between the drivers and passengers, on the buses and in taxis They’re like thick clear shower curtains. They’re taped to the sides, tops and bottoms so no little Covid droplets can get in or out. I don’t know whether they’re effective, but I also know I haven’t gotten breakthrough Covid. 
“Lunch: Chicken from the general store here in the MPC, plus Pringles, plus Oreos. 
“You know how American colleges have alma maters and fight songs like the ‘OU Chant’ and ‘Boomer Sooner.’ Well, a friend said today that the USA Olympics team also has an alma mater (‘The Star-Spangled Banner’) and a fight song (‘Stars and Stripes Forever.’) Makes good sense, except I might vote for ‘Tom Dooley,’ ‘The Sounds of Silence’ or ‘Big John’ instead. 
“I need to say this: even for those of us who love any meet at Hayward Field (the new one or the old one, doesn’t matter), the Olympics is the greatest sporting event in the world. 
“I love to stroll around the Main Press Center. Times have changed and fewer reporters are here, but the big papers have their own offices; everyone else works in the ‘bullpen’ which seats about 400. There’s a deadline every minute. 
“Remember, when it’s 7 a.m. Monday in Chickasha, it’s 9 p.m. in Tokyo. 
“Weather: High 93, low 79. A little hazy. Or is that smog? 
“Japan Fact that surely must be true because somebody told me: Only about two percent of Japan is Christian, but much of the population eats at KFC at Christmas. According to CNN, ‘Every year since the mid-1980s, life-size Colonel Sanders statues — dressed as Santa during the holiday — have welcomed droves of locals and tourists alike across the country. According to figures released by the American fast-food chain, KFC Japan pulled in 6.9 billion yen (roughly U.S. $63 million) from December 20 to 25 in 2018, with lines out the door starting on December 23.’ 
“Dinner: Domino’s pizza at the MPC. Bill Mallon and I treated the staff. The real hero was Nicki, who figured out how to order American pizza in Japan by Uber Eats using little photos of pepperoni, cheese and beef, with five choices of crust. The driver brought the pizza to the lobby of the Washington Hotel across the street from the MPC. 
“As Bill, Nicki and I carried the eight pizzas back to the MPC, two Japanese women stopped us. They were sad that they had not been able to get into the Olympics, and were eager for a simple encounter with someone who had. Back home, you’d think they were selling life insurance. But not these people. They were REALLY nice and wanted to learn about America, where we live, how we feel about Japan, etc. They were thrilled to meet Americans and Olympics people. They gave a business card to Nick and a bag of ‘all natural’ cookies to me. 
“We watched Allyson Felix on television then got a car to the hotel. There we greeted Takahashi the security man who had clocked is in and out before our 14 days expired. He was born in 1954 in ... Hiroshima. He said none of his family had been killed in the bomb, but, of course, the city had not been completely rebuilt when he was a child. He made no political comment, and neither did we. 
“I did think about all those allied soldiers and Japanese citizens who would have been killed in an invasion. War is horrible. Ditto the people who start them. And perpetuate them. 
“Oh, boy, I lost my focus there! Anyway, this was Takahashi’s last night as the security guard at the Sunroute Ginza. We could tell that he was very happy to meet us, and sorry to see his Olympics ending, as he kept bowing and smiling. 
“Then Nicki and I walked around Ginza, encountering maybe 20 food-delivery people riding bicycles with little cooler bags on the backs. We took photos in front of the iconic Kabukiza Theater which is much more beautiful at night. 
“After poking around the Tokyo version of CVS — two stories, like in New York City – we bought bananas and Haagen Dasz at the Family Mart. We had accumulated about 147 Japanese coins of mysterious value (to me, anyhow) and I wanted to get rid of some. The clerk kindly fumbled around in the tray, took out 848 Yen, nearly penny-by-penny, and bowed. It was VERY nice of him. Now we have only about 93 Japanese coins. 
“What a privilege to be here! Every day is an adventure. Sayonara, for now.”