Wayne Morris

MORRIS, Wayne Alexander, age 78, late of Delanco, NJ and formerly of Trenton, MI, passed away on November 14 from Lewy body dementia.

Very few people have Disney movie characters created in their likenesses. Big Mouse may not have known it was doing that for Wayne Morris, but there was never a doubt for people who knew Wayne and had seen “Up” that he was the real-life doppelgänger of the movie’s main character, Carl Fredricksen. There were unquestionably many aspects of Wayne’s life that he appreciated much more than having his visage compared to Carl’s, but it was an undeniable reality.

While the particulars of Carl’s younger days are unknown, his non-fiction twin’s are not. Wayne was born in New Eagle, Pennsylvania, the eldest child of Samuel (“Sam”) and Frances (née Segedi) Morris, and was raised in tiny Ellsworth, PA, a distance roughly 30 miles south of Pittsburgh and a population roughly 99% south of the city’s. He attended nearby Bentleyville High School and then California University of Pennsylvania. Wayne played football, basketball, and baseball in high school and dreamed of a future in one of those sports. Unfortunately, whether or not he needed his cleats to reach his alleged height of 5’9”, he wasn’t tall enough to play basketball after high school or quick enough in those cleats to continue playing baseball or football.

As a boy, Wayne grew up watching a lot of mediocre Steelers and Pirates teams, but they were his teams through thin and thinner. As he grew older, he and his fellow Pittsburgh fans were rewarded for their devotion with a Steelers dynasty in the 1970’s and three World Series titles for the Pirates over two decades, including the “We Are Family” edition in 1979.

By 1979, Wayne was several years into having a family of his own. In 1970, after just a three-month courtship – three months! – he had married the love of his life, Roberta. Their first child, daughter Amy, had arrived in 1973 followed by another daughter, Emily, in 1975. Long before the term became popular, Wayne was a full-fledged, ever-doting “girl dad.”

Wayne positively impacted the lives of countless thousands of kids throughout his career, teaching math in Riverview, Michigan for 36 years. He was also a coach. And what a coach he was. He coached middle school basketball in Riverview for over 20 years and high school football for 30. All but six of those were spent at Riverview High School, where he coached, appropriately, the Pirates. He also later coached at Trenton High School and Woodhaven High School. All told, he helped guide his teams to 160 victories. Whereas Roberta, Amy, and Emily were usually treated to a Wayne with the gentle demeanor of Carl Fredricksen toward the end of “Up,” his players were just as likely to hear from a Wayne with more than a touch of the cantankerous Carl from earlier in the film. Wayne actually had nearly the perfect coaching temperament, as well as acumen, and was awarded for both. In 1995, he was named the Michigan High School Football Coaches Association Assistant Varsity Coach of the Year. Ten years later, in one of the proudest moments of his life, he was inducted into the MHSFCA Hall of Fame.

Though Wayne’s daughters never played football, they were immersed in it for their entire lives and learned to love it in their own ways. In part due to that love, they both attended schools with major, high-profile football programs. Emily enrolled at the University of Georgia. Wayne’s influence was even heavier on Amy’s decision, as she opted to enroll at the home of his beloved Wolverines, the University of Michigan.

It was at U-M where Amy met her future husband, Rob, though it took a while for her to see him in such a light. Rob can be an acquired taste. Luckily for him, as he would learn much later, Wayne acquired it relatively quickly. Even before Amy and Rob’s circuitous courtship began – one that lasted roughly 20 times longer than Wayne and Roberta’s! – Wayne was subtly advocating on Rob’s behalf. Or, more likely, not so subtly. Subtlety wasn’t necessarily one of Wayne’s strengths.

Make no mistake, Wayne loved raising his girls, but he would have also loved raising a boy. In a very real sense, he did just that after he and Roberta followed Rob and Amy, who was pregnant with their first child, on a move to New Jersey in 2006. Carter Morris Gill was born less than two months later. For Wayne, Carter came straight out of grandson central casting. From his earliest years, Carter loved to do math and play sports. Wayne loved to teach Carter both and did so on a nearly daily basis. Wayne had always dreamed of being a grandfather, a “Grandpa” to be exact. Alas, the latter was not to be. As a toddler, Carter dubbed him “Bop,” and thus, “Bop” he was for the rest of his life. It was more than just a nickname name; Wayne matched it with his big, loving nature to give “Bop” a signature persona that became familiar to family members, friends, and anyone he met. Carter had no bigger fan than Bop, and nobody loved him more. Wayne may not have always been subtle, but he was almost always optimistic. He believed Carter could accomplish almost anything. With a lot of help from Bop along the way, Carter became a terrific student, an accomplished athlete, and a kind, empathetic person very much in Bop’s image (though not as much in Carl Fredricksen’s).

Six and a half years after Carter’s arrival, Amy and Rob brought home their daughter, Mazie. In the years to come, it would become apparent that her combination of diagnoses put her in a medical category all her own in the world. Her conditions brought with them associated intellectual disabilities. The uncharted territory was hardly an impediment for Bop and his optimism. He was crazy about Mazie, always enveloping her with hugs, kisses, and affection. Mazie. Adored. Him. Bop always brought out the best in her, and he enthusiastically celebrated all her advancements, no matter how seemingly small.

In between Carter and Mazie came Gabriella and then his bonus grandsons, Harrison and Benjamin. Geographical hurdles prevented Bop from seeing them as often as his other grandchildren, but that in no way lessened his emotional attachment. Growing up, Gabriella has often donned cleats of her own and put them to great use on the softball field. Bop was endlessly proud of her, and they all received every ounce of his trademark love and tenderness.

Bop looked like a Disney character and was inducted into a hall of fame, but the roles he played were shining example and champion for everyone in his family. He is survived by his wife Roberta (née Berry) of Delanco, NJ; daughter Emily of Delanco, NJ; daughter Amy Morris and son-in-law Robert, grandson Carter, and granddaughter Mazie Gill of Cherry Hill, NJ; granddaughter Gabriella and grandsons Harrison and Benjamin Schiffman of Willmette, IL; and brother Theodore (“Ted”) Morris of Library, PA. He was predeceased by sister Virginia Morris.