It’s hard to keep a good man down, especially when that man keeps picking up others.
Jerry Schemmel is a good man.
Back in October, Schemmel received a vanilla, 3-minute phone call from his boss at KOA Radio informing him he’d been laid off as part of iHeartMedia’s massive job cuts around the country. It marked the second time in six years that Schemmel lost his job as a Rockies announcer on KOA.
It stung. Even good men have egos.
“It was not nearly as impactful as the first time because I could kind of see it coming,” said the 66-year-old Schemmel, who first started calling Rockies games in 2010 after years of calling Nuggets games. “I knew there were more layoffs coming at iHeart. But I was a little bit surprised because I was making 25% less than I did the first time they let me go.
“But it still hurt. It was like, ‘Man, they don’t want me anymore.’ And it was just the way that it happened: A phone call, 3 minutes long and we’re done, ‘See you later.’ No meeting, no ‘thanks for everything.’”
At this time, in years past, Schemmel would be gearing up for Rockies spring training in Scottsdale, Arizona. He’d load up his trusty bikes, pack his spring attire and swimsuit, and bone up on baseball’s offseason.
“It feels weird, and there is a little sadness there because it was time for baseball, something I’ve always loved,” he said. “I’d ride my bike in the desert and get away from the snow. So, it’s kind of a bummer. I loved spring training. I loved everything about it.”
But you can’t keep a good man down.
Schemmel’s passion these days is working as an ambassador and chief fundraiser for Best Day Ministries in downtown Longmont. The mission statement of the organization: “Empowering our special needs community with faith, joy and purpose through inclusive programs, creative outreach, and connection.”
The nonprofit, established by Joe and Marla Truitt, is nearing its first anniversary. Their son, Seth, is a 35-year-old with Down syndrome who lives in his own home on the back acre of his parents’ property.
“Our mission is threefold,” Schemmel explained. “We have an online platform where special-needs adults can sell things they make — things like mugs, artwork and candles. The items are sold online.
“Then we have a coffee shop — Best Day Ever, Coffee and Creps — that employs 16 special-needs adults. And we also hold a church service one night a month at the coffee shop.”
Schemmel, a devout Christian, has done charitable work for decades, ever since that awful day in July 1989 when 112 people died in a fiery crash of United Airlines Flight 232 in Sioux City, Iowa. While nearly everyone around him died, Schemmel escaped the burning plane, reentered the wreckage, and rescued an 11-month-old baby girl.
“Flight 232 allowed me to find life’s real meaning,” Schemmel wrote in his book, “Chosen to Live.”
In 2018, Schemmel was featured in a documentary, “Ride: One Man’s Venture for Veterans.”
“Ride,” directed by Doug Hanes, was a simple story. It followed Schemmel’s 468-mile bike ride on U.S. Route 50, from the Colorado border near Grand Junction to the Kansas border. Schemmel hoped to beat the record time for the grueling ride. He missed the 32-hour, 9-minute mark by about an hour.
But that didn’t really matter, because he raised nearly $300,000 for Paws for Purple Hearts, an organization that teaches veterans to train service dogs for other injured comrades.
That mission was especially personal for Schemmel. His father, Bill, who died in 2011, was a medic who served in Europe during World War II.
Schemmel’s new mission is personal, too. Henry, his 4-year-old grandson, has Down syndrome.
“I had never done anything with the special-needs community before Henry,” Schemmel said. “I had done a lot of charity work, but not that. It’s been incredibly rewarding.”
Schemmel and his family had no idea that Henry had Down syndrome.
“Most of the time, you can tell when they are in the womb, through tests,” Schemmel said. “We were shocked. I was like, “I had plans for this little guy. I was going to teach him how to fish and play baseball.
“Then word got out about Henry, and I started getting contacted by parents and grandparents. So many of them were like, ‘You are in for the ride of your life; you will never be more blessed.’ I was like, ‘What are you talking about?’ ”
Schemmel soon got his answer.
“One man told me, ‘Those with Down syndrome don’t judge, they don’t complain, they don’t whine,’” Schemmel said. “All they want to do is love on people. Their value in life is judged by how many people they can hug in a day.”
Schemmel gets a lot of hugs from Henry.
“Henry doesn’t communicate very well, and he’s not walking yet, but when you look at his face, and look into his eyes, there is just joy and love,” Schemmel said. “Every day is his best day.”
The longtime sports broadcaster, who still calls some Colorado Buffs basketball games on the radio and Northern Colorado basketball games on ESPN+, is fulfilled. But that doesn’t mean he won’t miss calling Rockies games.
“I’ll miss being in the booth, painting a picture for people that aren’t at the game,” he said. “The challenge of painting a picture — I’ll miss that.”
He’ll miss the preparation, too. Schemmel spent about five hours preparing for every game.
“It took a lot of pride in that,” he said. “There was never a game when I got in that booth that I wasn’t ready. I would maybe use 10% of what I prepped for, but I loved it.”
But life goes on.
Schemmel is selling his beloved Scottsdale condo. He recently left his apartment across from Coors Field and bought a house in Frederick. He’s contemplating competing in the Race Across the West, an 860-mile cycling journey from Oceanside, California, to Durango, scheduled for mid-June.
“I might go down to spring training and take in some baseball,” he said. “I’m going to miss it. But I’ve got a lot going on in my life. I say I’m semi-retired, but I’m busier than ever. I’m pretty blessed.”
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