Did I Pole Vault to the State Record? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Did I Pole Vault to the State Record? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

You may not have heard of Cornelius Warmerdam, but I’ll bet you've heard of Bob Richards. They were my heroes when I was a teenager.

When I was at Classical High School, I decided to become a pole vaulter; memories recently rekindled because of the death of Richards. I was introduced to Bob when I ate Wheaties on many a school day morning as he was the spokesperson, and his picture was on the box.

Richards was a two-time Olympic gold medalist and member of the National Track & Field Hall of Fame, and the first athlete to appear on the front of a Wheaties cereal box.

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Knowing how much I was enamored of the Reverend, my son, Chris, an assistant account exec at DDB Chicago on the General Mills business, was able to get me a signed copy of a Wheaties box “to Dr. Ed, Bob Richards.” The treasure hangs in my office. After his athletic career, the "Pole Vaulting Pastor" became a sportscaster and motivational speaker giving over 25,000 speeches worldwide to companies and organizations, influencing millions to achieve their dreams through positive sports stories.

So why Warmerdam? When I started to vault, we used an old bamboo pole, the kind he used to set records. Dutch Warmerdam, from Long Beach, California, was the first to jump 15 feet (which he did over 40 times) and the last to set major records with a bamboo pole. Regrettably, World War II deprived him of the opportunity to compete in the Olympics.

I started on the old bamboo pole, and switched to a metal pole, but save for a single bronze medal, I did not shine.

Nevertheless, I became a Classical legend. The state record for the vault was 11.5 feet. At practice one day, I said to my dear friend and accomplished vaulting companion, “Ted, put the bar at 11.5 feet. Let’s see what I can do.”

“Ya gotta be kiddin!”

“Nope.” He set the bar. Down the runway, I sped combining every ounce of strength, explosiveness, gymnastics, and fearless attitude I could muster. Planting the pole firmly in the box, I leaped, hung by my hands as long as possible, then catapulted. My legs swung upward along the side of the pole as I soared. There was a problem. I did not go over the bar but rather under it. Splashdown! As I landed in the pit, I looked up to see the unwavering bar sitting perfectly in place.

I nestled in the sawdust, looked at the white clouds plastered against the blue sky, and pondered, “So this is how you feel when you succeed.” There was a problem.

Our ‘win or nothing’ coach turned as I touched down, saw me in the pit, looked at the bar in place, and assumed he had an All-Stater in tow. As he ran to the pit, he squawked, “Did you just make that, Iannuccilli?”

“Nope. Sorry, Coach. I went under it.” I scrambled out of the pit, just avoiding his kick.