This week, the Corbin community lost a great man in Don House. Coach Don House has been a friend and mentor to many of the youth in Corbin for a lot of years. I was blessed to be a member of the Corbin baseball team from 1991 to 1993. In that time, there were many positive changes to the program and Don House was integral in those improvements. Coach House spent many, many hours working on “the field of dreams” located behind the Corbin High School campus. He sacrificed a lot of his time and efforts for the youth of Corbin in the process of the field being built. He wasn’t looking for accolades or recognition; his efforts were genuine. Those hours working were just a small part of the dedication he showed the players of CHS.
Coach House loved being around the players, and we loved being around Coach House. He not only was a top notch baseball man, but he was a good man.
One of the biggest testaments about Coach House was that you only had to ask him for help one time. He was always there for you. It didn’t matter whether you were the best or worst player on a Corbin team, you were family to Coach House. I recall Coach House asked players on several occasions to stay after practice to help a former player. Chad Estep, one of the best CHS baseball players in the history of the program, had come back home to do some extra work with Coach House while playing in college. Coach House was excited to help and a bunch of us stayed and shagged balls and so forth because Coach House asked us to do so. You see, Coach House was showing us about family and how to give our own time to help others.
My personal experiences with Coach House are proof that it didn’t matter where you fell on the pecking order. In three varsity seasons, I had exactly one varsity base hit. I was a terrible player with a big heart and was fortunate to ever wear a CHS jersey, to be honest. That didn’t matter to Coach House because I was “Corbin family,” and family was the most important thing to Coach House including his own family that he loved so dearly. He treated me as if I were a cleanup hitter set up for stardom.
Upon graduating high school, my relationship with Coach House didn’t end. I recall an instance where I had an ugly grey wool hat that a revered, deceased uncle had given me. This old ugly hat had meaning to me and when a bowl of chili accidently spilled all over it, Coach said bring it to me at the cleaners. He called me to pick it up and told me that he had cleaned that hat eight times and thought it was all out. Something so petty to most people as that hat, he treated with so much care.
That hat is special to me for two reasons now.
On another occasion, I was coaching Little League baseball. I had a young pitcher who needed some extra help and I called Coach House to see if he would work with him. Coach replied, “What evening is good for you guys?” He was glad that I asked him for help and helped me with that pitcher. There were many other times I counted on Coach House and he never let me down.
I cannot speak for every player to ever play baseball at CHS, but I do know how much he was loved and revered by the players. We, the players, voted unanimously to name Corbin’s “field of dreams”.... House Field.
A group of youngsters was smart enough to recognize the hard work and love that Coach House showed us and we wanted to honor him. When the name was unveiled, I recall Coach House’s surprise and he was humbled. The players were all in jubilation and I think we all shed a tear that day, just like we have all shed a tear this week in his passing. Thank you, Coach House, for everything.
No. 11, ‘93 graduate
