Gary Preston
1979 I saw my first Footbag the summer of ’79. My brother had just got out of the Army, and he took me to a friend of his that we both knew from our childhood days; Jim Anderson. Jim’s sister Carol was living in Portland Oregon at the time, and she sent Jim a couple “Hacky Sacks” to our home town of Prairie Du Sac, Wisconsin.
Jim’s roommate, Fred Kippley, went to high school with my brother; and they were having a welcome home party, and that’s where I first saw Fred kicking sack. Fred’s charm and personality was always very contagious. Everyone that came into his home was invited to “hack in”. From what I could tell, Fred was the most successful kicker in town. The only way I was going to learn this cool new game was to shadow this guy.
At the time Fred was building silos, I was building pole barns. Every night after work we’d get together and kick non-stop until the sun went down. We had to keep moving our playing areas due to the fact we’d destroy the grass. Everyone was welcome to join our fun. Fred would gladly offer his knowledge to anyone that asked. Then it became clear to us that if we wanted to continue to get better at this sport we would need to join the National Hacky Sack Association.
If memory serves, our member numbers were 314 and 315. We were so glad to get the first newsletters from Portland. That’s were where we discovered a little paragraph where the association was looking to train touring members.
In spring of 1981 we quit our jobs, loaded up the Valliant, and headed to Portland Oregon for the first ever touring team training camp. This was the first time either of us embarked on such a journey. Upon arriving at John’s (Stalberger) house, we knew right away that we did the right thing. The warmth we received from Garwin Bruce, Mag Hughes, Billy Hayne, Greg Cortopossi, last and certainly not least, Ted Huff, was amazing.
The training camp had folks from as far east as New York, (Rick Kaufman) from, and as far west as California, (Gary Laute and Jim Caveney). And lots of talented people from the Portland area: Dave Hill, Robert Conover, Michael Noonan, Jeff Johnson, Gary “The Flair” Finley and Gale Bigler to name a few. This chance meeting of all these people changed our perspective on the game forever. That sharing was caring; that going out into the world to teach people from all walks of life that this game was for everyone. Young, old, boys and girls, short and tall, everyone could play this game. And we were chosen to be the first two man touring team to cover the Midwestern states.
Greg Cortopossi mentored Fred and me in our first couple assignments. What Greg taught us about going out into the world with the “attitude of gratitude” was the key element that made our shows successful. Over the course of two school years, Fred and I covered over 720, K through 12 school programs in the Dakotas, Montana, Minnesota, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois and Wisconsin. We also got to participate in a Chicago Bulls NBA half time show with Johnny, Greg, and a boy that was taking the sport to new levels, Andy Linder.
Fred and I were asked to represent the association at the CNE (Canadian National Exposition) for a two week stint. After completing our second year of school assemblies, we slipped into the normal life of getting families started, buying houses and all the other activities that goes with life. But Fred continued to spread the Footbag gospel by developing our juggling troop; The Dunlop Du-drop Jugglers. All the elements we learned for our Footbag presentations were a constant source of material at company picnics, Boy Scout jamborees and many birthday parties. We took second place in the advanced doubles at the 83 nationals.
That same tournament we were interview extensively by John Cassidy while he was writing his book: “Hacky Sack for the complete Klutz” Fred and I were mentioned in the acknowledgement as “Iggy and Cruz” the name Greg gave us on the road.
In 1989 a day before Fred’s birthday; I lost a leg in an automobile accident. But my best friend in the whole wide world wasn’t going to let that stop me from kicking. He would always try to set his passes to my sound side so I could get a solid kick while we were in the circle. He always had my back. Even as we got into our fifties, Fred would never pass the chance to hack in with anybody he’d come across in his travels.
When his oldest son Evan graduated from high school, his buddies called on Fred to step into the circle and show the young bucks what he had. He never lost his edge at having the most fun!
Tragically last June, Fred fell from a ladder while at work, resulting in a brain stem injury which ultimately took his life. In the 35 years that I was privileged to stand next to this man’s fire, he always believed in thinking positive, that we don’t have time for anything less. Treating people the way you would want to be treated. The old Golden Rule applied in all situations with Fred.
