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Lewis Bowling has been a Duke fan for so long, he remembers when he could walk up to the ticket window at Duke (now Cameron) Indoor Stadium the day of a basketball game and buy a ticket. Those days are long gone, but that hasn’t prevented him from seeing hundreds of Blue Devil basketball and football games over the past 50-plus years.

Lewis Bowling photograph by Alex Boerner

Bowling spent his career teaching physical education at North Carolina Central and Duke universities. Now retired, he writes a history column for the Oxford Public Ledger. He has also penned several history books, including one on the legendary Wallace Wade, Duke’s winningest football coach, who led the Blue Devils to six Southern Conference championships and Rose Bowl appearances in 1939 and 1942.

The 1942 Rose Bowl game turned out to be the most famous ever played at Duke.

Hogwash, you say. Everyone knows the Rose Bowl is always played in Pasadena, California. Make that almost always. The attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, changed everything. Fearing another Japanese attack on the West Coast, military officials canceled the New Year’s Day game that was scheduled between the 9-0 Blue Devils and the 7-2 Oregon State Beavers.

Duke vs. Oregon State Photography courtesy of University Archives Photograph Collection, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University

At the time, Wade was one of the most well-known and well-respected football coaches in America. He’d even appeared on the cover of TIME magazine. “He had been the Alabama football coach in the ’20s and won three national titles there,” Bowling says. “Then he came to Duke in 1931 and established them as a national power.”

Wade had high standards for his players. “He was definitely a tough taskmaster as a coach, but he also had a heart,” Bowling says. “Those tough practices led to those players becoming not only better players on the team but better men after they graduated.”

Hearing of the cancelation, Wade sprang into action. With approval from the Duke administration, he contacted Oregon State’s athletic director. Together, they went to the Rose Bowl committee with an unprecedented offer: Duke would be honored to play host. The game was back on. Wade’s reputation — and considerable influence — had made all the difference.

• • •

Convincing tournament and university officials to let Duke host the game turned out to be the easy part of Wade’s job. Despite his players’ devotion to the man nicknamed “The Bear,” they initially voted down his proposal. Following the attack on Pearl Harbor, many had decided to join the armed services — and, with no fun-filled West Coast trip in the offing, they were relishing a few days at home for the holidays before reporting for duty. Only after Wade agreed to give the team six days off for Christmas did they vote in favor.

“The tickets went on sale on December 16,” Bowling says. “By December 18, they stopped because 56,000 tickets were sold.” NC State and UNC Chapel Hill pitched in by providing extra bleachers.

In order to accommodate all 56,000 fans on that rainy afternoon, the 35,000-seat Duke Stadium borrowed extra bleachers from UNC and NC State. Photography courtesy of University Archives Photograph Collection, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University

Although Duke’s hospitality was warm, the weather was anything but, with rain, fog, and temperatures in the low 40s. The Blue Devils were heavily favored to win, but the muddy field did not suit their style of play. The game was a back-and-forth affair, with Duke coming back to tie the score at 14-14 in the third quarter. Ultimately, Oregon State prevailed, 20-16.

“[Duke] played the worst game of the season and still only lost by four points,” Bowling says. “They would have beaten Oregon State by 20 or 30 in the sunshine in California.” In addition to Duke’s seven turnovers — three fumbles and four interceptions — some credit the outcome to Oregon State’s “12th man”: NBC announcer Bill Stern asserted that Duke could beat the Beavers by “throwing 11 helmets on the field,” a comment that some Oregon State players used as motivation.

Years after it hosted the 1942 Rose Bowl, Duke Stadium was renamed for the man who’d coached the Blue Devils through that game and many others: the legendary Wallace Wade. Photography courtesy of University Archives Photograph Collection, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University

As losses go, it was heartbreaking — but not as heartbreaking as the 1939 Rose Bowl loss to the University of Southern California. Going into that game, Duke “was unbeaten and unscored-upon,” Bowling says. “They lost on a last-second touchdown pass. That might have been the most disappointing loss in Duke history.”

There was a silver lining, however. Proceeds from that game provided the down payment for what would become one of college basketball’s most revered shrines: Cameron Indoor Stadium.

• • •

In the aftermath of the 1942 New Year’s Day loss, all eyes turned to the war. More than 60 Duke and Oregon State players and coaches from that game served. Foremost among them was Coach Wade, who, having been a captain in World War I, reenlisted at the age of 49.

Wallace Wade Photography courtesy of University Archives Photograph Collection, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University

The Army brass made every effort to keep the famed coach out of harm’s way — including ordering him to coach an All-Army football team in a series of exhibition games against NFL teams. But in the end, Wade got what he wanted. In April of 1944, he deployed overseas in command of the 272nd Field Artillery Battalion. From August of 1944 to June of 1945, his men advanced across France, Belgium, and Germany. They participated in every significant battle during that time, including the desperate last-chance offensive by the Germans known as the Battle of the Bulge.

Bowling marvels at Wade’s sense of duty. “Not many people at the age of 49 — as well-paid as he was, as well-known as he was — would have resigned and gone into the military to serve their country,” he says. “Doesn’t that say a lot about who he was?”

As the German army advanced on Allied positions, Wade’s battalion took a position in Rott, Germany, in support of V Corps, where they were subjected to shelling, as well as strafing and bombing by enemy planes. Having spent two days in the brutal cold without food, Wade saw an infantryman brewing coffee and asked for a cup. The soldier, Stan Czech, happily obliged. The two men soon realized they had something in common: Czech had lined up as the starting right tackle for Oregon State in the 1942 Rose Bowl against Wade’s team.

Remarkable as this chance encounter was, it can’t compare to the events that unfolded in Italy in 1944. Lt. Charles Haynes, former backup quarterback for Duke, was heading up a rifle platoon in the 88th Infantry Division. Lt. Frank Parker, former Oregon State starting guard, was similarly deployed with Company F in the same division. The two met on a troop ship making its way across the Mediterranean and realized they’d stood on opposite sides of the football field back on New Year’s 1942.

While fighting on a ridge near the Arno River in Italy several months later, Haynes was grievously wounded by shrapnel. Clinging to life, he waited 17 hours to be rescued. His savior turned out to be none other than Parker, who’d heard about his friend’s predicament and, with another soldier, risked his life to reach the stranded Haynes. Parker hoisted Haynes onto his shoulders and carried him to safety.

Haynes recovered, but four players from the ’42 Rose Bowl paid the ultimate price during World War II: Walter Griffith, Al Hoover, and Bob Nanni from Duke, and Everett Smith from Oregon State.

• • •

Lewis Bowling talks to ghosts. As he looks out over the playing field that hosted the 1942 Rose Bowl game, Bowling makes a confession. Before games, he explains, he stops by the busts of Coach Wade and Coach Cameron, located by the stadiums named in their honor.

“What a great job you did here,” he tells them. “I’m just trying to make people more aware of what you did, and I hope you appreciate it.”

Through Bowling’s stories about their exploits, these ghosts talk to us — but it is their resilience and hard work, their honor and sacrifice, that speak volumes.

Uncovering forgotten artifacts and delving into dusty archives to explore the little-known stories of our state. Got an idea for an upcoming column? Email us at editorial@ourstate.com.