83-Year-Old Reared Heisman Hopeful From Central Florida

OCALA, Fla. —  Emma Culpepper took in baby Daunte on Jan. 29, 1977. He was 1 day old. She was 62. He would become the 15th and last child she raised, following four children of her deceased brother, seven from her sister-in-law, and three others she adopted.

Now 83, she leans on a cane when she walks, making it difficult for her to venture from the house in which she has lived for more than 40 years. Her children range in age from 21 to 60. They are butchers, secretaries and financial consultants. They teach children, operate small businesses and build houses.

Daunte could become the first to make a fortune.

A 6-foot-5, 235-pound senior at the University of Central Florida, he is widely considered to be among the nation’s top collegiate quarterbacks. He runs a 4.6-second 40-yard dash, can jump 36 inches into the air, can throw the ball 80 yards.

His team hardly ranks among college football’s powers. That means he probably won’t win enough games over enough glamorous opponents in front of enough viewers to win the Heisman Trophy, which annually goes to the nation’s top college football player. However, some pro talent scouts believe he could be the first player selected in next year’s NFL draft because of his rare combination of size, arm strength and speed.

Just as rare is his sense of loyalty, which explains his presence at Central Florida--a 28,500-student school in Orlando, but a relatively obscure locale in the world of big-time college football. Culpepper chose Central Florida, ignoring the lures of more prominent programs, for the same reasons his mother spent weekends years ago picking string beans for 50 cents a hamper.

It wasn’t necessarily the easiest way to supplement her small income, but she believed it was the right way.

She has “a lot to do with his character and personality,” Central Florida Coach Mike Kruczek said. “She’s from the old school. She has her priorities in order. ... What he is all about comes from her.”

Just four years ago, it seemed unlikely Culpepper would get into college. He did not have the necessary 2.0 grade-point average. “I felt I would do just enough to get by,” he said about his high school grades. “It wasn’t good enough to get into college at that time.” Late in Culpepper’s junior year at Vanguard High, the nation’s major college football powers, the schools that helped fill an entire suitcase with recruiting mail, suddenly lost interest.

Central Florida offensive line coach Paul Lounsberry, however, helped Culpepper plot a path to collegiate eligibility. Culpepper retook several courses during his senior year and worked hard--for the first time--in every class. That year, he said, he earned all A’s and B’s and made the honor roll.

“There were like 30-to-1 odds,” Culpepper said. “I made it by the skin of my teeth. (Lounsberry) told me if I dedicated myself and developed discipline, I could do it. Nobody else told me that.”

Suddenly, it seemed, every major college football program wanted him again.

By then, Culpepper was committed, on paper and in his heart, to Central Florida.

“I had schools telling me: ‘What do you want to go to (Central Florida) for? You will never see yourself at the next level. You’ll never do this and you’ll never do that. You’ll never play on TV, you won’t play in front of 85,000 people.’ ”

Culpepper remained unswayed from the school that had been loyal to him. And with a 3.0 GPA in his past two semesters, Culpepper has landed on the athletic director’s honor roll. A secondary education major, he said he is on course to graduate next summer.

“I don’t have one regret,” Culpepper said. “Actually, I’m blessed to be in this situation.”

No more than he was blessed when his biological mother--whom Daunte has met and now lives in Miami, according to Emma and Daunte Culpepper--asked Emma Culpepper to raise her child. Daunte’s biological mother became pregnant with him during a visit with her boyfriend while at a correctional facility for girls in Ocala, where Emma Culpepper then worked as a housemother. Emma Culpepper had thought, by then, that her child-rearing years were over.

She said: “I know at one time, I said: ‘I just can’t hack it. Going to work at 6 in the morning and getting home at 3, how am I going to take care of another baby?’ I finally agreed to take him. I’m so glad I did.”

She took in her first children in the 1940s. Her late brother, while on his deathbed, asked her to raise his four children. His widow later gave birth to 11 more children. Emma Culpepper brought up seven of them, then raised some of her children’s children. She had no children with her husband, who died in 1956.

“They didn’t have nowhere else to go,” she said. “I wasn’t going to let them run around the streets. I had my hands full, but the good Lord and me brought up these kids. ... I did my hard work. These kids now love me to death. They appreciate me because I took care of them and always loved them. I did the best I could.”

The one-story white stucco house in which Daunte Culpepper grew up sits just a few feet from a flat, sun-bleached street. A screened metal door leads to a small entryway with a pink couch and three plastic chairs. Inside another door are the living and dining areas, cooled by a single air conditioning box and one fan. Three armchairs are arranged around the television and VCR. In the back of the room, an automatic coffee maker is perched on a two-chair kitchen table, neatly covered by a pink tablecloth. Airy floral curtains frame each of the windows. The house was valued at about $21,000 in 1996, according to property records.

Nearly every inch of wall space is filled with Culpepper’s plaques, awards and posters from Central Florida. His retired No. 8 jersey from Vanguard High hangs in a glass case.

“This is an old, old house,” Culpepper said to his mother, clearly thinking of the pro contract he likely will receive next year. “I know there are a lot of memories in this house, but sometimes you’ve got to move on.”

She shook her head.

“It’s not an A-1 house, but it’s a nice house,” she said. “We will just let this one stand. There would be a bunch of children that would be glad to live here.”

In her house over the years, as many as seven have lived together simultaneously, sleeping on bunk beds, sometimes together and sometimes in her bed. She worked as a beautician and at the correctional center. She made all of her children work: doing chores or tending to the garden or feeding the chickens out back. She had one car, which was used mostly to get to church. The children walked to school.

“If (Daunte) wants to do something for me, when he gets that piece of paper, that diploma, that will be something for me,” she said.

“If he got the Heisman, great God, that would really be something for me.”

Daunte chuckled.

“One day, I would like to do everything in my power to take care of her,” he said. “She’s taken care of people her whole life. It’s time she gets taken care of.”

At ease in conversation, Culpepper also is painstakingly polite, offering plenty of “sirs,” “ma’ams,” “thank yous” and handshakes. He defers to his mother. He recalled learning to play a borrowed bass violin during elementary school, becoming so accomplished he performed with a college-level orchestra. “He could play that thing,” Emma Culpepper offered. “It was bigger than he was.” (He also played the cello and violin, but gave up music lessons when he took up football in middle school.)

In high school, he lettered in basketball, football, weightlifting and baseball (he was a 42nd-round draft pick by the New York Yankees). His athletic shoes were provided by Vanguard High--a good thing. Emma Culpepper bought him the “expensive” shoes he wanted in sixth grade and vowed never to do it again. In her opinion, $30 shoes suited her growing son just fine.

“Anything she bought me, I was happy and proud to wear,” Daunte Culpepper said with a grin. “My cousins used to come around and pick on me for wearing cheap shoes.”

Said his mother: “He would always say: ‘I love this. Thank you, mama.’ ”

He knew: It was never a free ride in Emma Culpepper’s house.

Said Betty Isaac, one of the children she raised: “We went by rules. Her rules. We knew what we had to do. There were no ifs, ands or buts.”

At Central Florida, Daunte Culpepper quickly earned a reputation for being a student of the game. Many rave about his debut as a freshman, when he completed his first 12 passes and ended up throwing for three touchdowns in a 40-32 upset victory over Eastern Kentucky. Former Central Florida coach Gene McDowell said afterward that “spectacular and extraordinary don’t begin to describe it.”

Culpepper, driven by nervousness, had spent hours studying film before he took the field. The first time Central Florida had the ball, he changed the play--which initially had been called by the coaches--four times. He also led Central Florida to a touchdown. All of that amazed then-offensive coordinator Kruczek, a former NFL player who is now the head coach. By then, though, Kruczek had grown accustomed to being amazed by Daunte.

“I remember the first day he stepped onto (the Central Florida) campus,” Kruczek said. “I just sat there, and all I said was ‘Nice throw.’ I said to myself, ‘This is going to be the easiest job I’ve ever had.’ ”

Culpepper decided not to make himself available for the NFL draft last spring, despite his outstanding statistics as a junior (he ranked fourth in the nation in passing offense and set 15 school records)--and the fact he became a father 16 months ago. His girlfriend, Kimberly Rhem, takes care of the couple’s daughter, Lyric. Rhem, Culpepper’s high school sweetheart, lives and works in Ocala and plans to go back to school next year, Culpepper said. Culpepper sees his daughter every weekend. He said he and Rhem probably will get married, but neither is ready for that just yet. And Emma Culpepper said she agrees.

Kruczek, grateful to have Culpepper around as Central Florida seeks its first invitation to a postseason bowl game, shudders at the thought of a starting lineup without Culpepper--and a stadium lacking Culpepper’s usual cheering section of about 30 family members, including Emma Culpepper. She attends every game within driving distance, shuttled by her children. She is afraid to fly.

By next year, she figures, she will be hanging memorabilia from some NFL team on her walls, perhaps removing awards from Daunte’s collegiate career to make room.

He would just as soon provide a house with more walls.

“Anything she wants,” he said. “Anything.”