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A father's grief: James Dungy 1987-2005

Concerns lead to worst nightmare

The son of the former Bucs coach came back to Tampa to go to school. But he's found dead in his apartment.

By RICK STROUD, KEVIN GRAHAM, ALEXANDRA ZAYAS and JAMIE THOMPSON
Published December 23, 2005

	Police: Death an apparent suicide Shelton: An enormous test of a man Friends remember kindness, clowning A test of faith, and a rally to support Coach's tragedy shakes Colts fans Sorrow hits hard at Bucs headquarters Suicide warning signs Mailing address for condolences Peers, ex-players have fond memories Colts try to maintain focus What they're saying Viewing and funeral information

Wearing blue sweat pants, a whistle dangling from his neck, Tony Dungy sat on a couch in his office at the Colts training facility in Indianapolis last week, discussing his team's season.

He noted that his 18-year-old son, James, a fixture on the sidelines for most of Dungy's 10 seasons as a head coach, was not there to enjoy it.

Dungy expressed concern that James had decided to live on his own in Tampa, where he was attending Hillsborough Community College. His son seemed to be struggling. In October, sheriff's deputies took him into custody because of a possible drug overdose.

Early Thursday morning, Dungy's son died of an apparent suicide. The teen's girlfriend called 911 about 1:30 a.m. after finding him in his Lutz apartment, unresponsive, according to the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office.

A sheriff's deputy performed CPR before an ambulance rushed him to University Community Hospital. It was too late. Dungy was pronounced dead at the hospital.

"Based on evidence at the scene, indications are that this death appears to be a suicide," said sheriff's spokeswoman Debbie Carter. "There is no other information to contradict that at this time."

An autopsy will be performed to determine the official cause and manner of death, Carter said. She released no other details about what deputies found at the scene.

Tony Dungy and his wife, Lauren, boarded a plane in Indianapolis early Thursday and flew to Tampa, where Dungy coached the Tampa Bay Buccaneers from 1996 to 2001.

As news spread across the country, fans, friends and strangers mourned for the family.

People wept, asked why, and wondered whether they could have done anything.

One of the most revered men in the NFL, Dungy left an impact on the Tampa Bay community for keeping true to his principles of faith, family and football. He and his wife had three biological children, including James, and two adopted children.

James was the second oldest, a tall, affable teen who charmed friends and teachers with his goofy humor and easygoing style. He liked to make people laugh, cracking jokes and imitating hip-hop dance moves. He played football, was a devoted friend and showed an interest in black history.

He attended Tampa Catholic for two years, then transferred to Gaither High, where he was a defensive end on the football team. On or off the field, he didn't drop his famous father's name.

"To me, it was a joy to him that his dad was Tony Dungy," said Gaither coach Mark Kantor. "He was proud to be Tony Dungy's son."

At 6-foot-7, James Dungy towered over his friends and at times was mistaken for one of his father's players.

After his dad became head coach for the Indianapolis Colts, he moved north to finish his senior year. Friendly and unassuming, he had no trouble fitting in at North Central High School, said school principal C.E. Quandt.

"He just came in and tried to blend in and be a student," Quandt said. "I liked James a lot."

Sometime after graduation, James Dungy moved back to Tampa Bay to be near his friends, his father said in an interview last week.

He settled into the Campus Lodge Apartments, a collection of red wood cottages on Rustic Ridge Loop in Lutz. He enrolled in Hillsborough Community College to pursue a degree in criminal justice technology, said college spokesman John Huerta. Eventually, he hoped to transfer to the University of South Florida, his father said.

Living on his own, nearly 1,000 miles from his parents, James Dungy was busy contacting old friends and had started dating another 18-year-old, Antoinette Anderson. He also spent time updating his Internet blog on MySpace.com, a Web site where users post pictures and comments to friend.

The online profile shows a different side of the good-humored teen. In a photograph, he wears a hooded sweat shirt, his face disguised by a black bandana. Beside the picture, it says: "F--- the police," a reference to a controversial 1988 hip-hop song by N.W.A.

On the site, the cursor appears as a silver handgun, which guides viewers through pictures of marijuana leaves, sexual graphics and photos of scantily clad women who have posted on the site.

Friends caution against taking the site too literally. Like any other teen, he was trying to figure out who he was. He was part poseur, and showed some bravado on his blog, friends said.

"It's just a front," said a friend, 18-year-old Quintyn Eldridge. "People who knew him knew how great of a guy he was."

Mark Blair, a classmate of James Dungy's at Gaither High School, said he looked at the Web site Thursday morning and didn't recognize his friend's self-depiction.

"I would say that myself, knowing friends that have one, that a lot of stuff gets put on there that is all in good fun," Blair said. "I would say the kid is a Christian kid and has been raised in a Christian family and he's a great kid. Maybe it's an alter ego."

Dungy made his last posts on Wednesday. That afternoon, he wrote a message on a friend's site that said, "can't talk to nobody n e more." Around the same time, he posted a message to another friend, inviting him to a party on Jan. 6, his birthday.

Authorities say he spent that evening with his girlfriend, who left the apartment to go for a walk shortly after 1 a.m., said sheriff's spokeswoman Carter. The girlfriend returned about 10 minutes later and found Dungy in the apartment, not breathing. Paramedics rushed him to University Community Hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

His parents learned of their son's death early Thursday. They boarded the private jet of Colts owner Jim Irsay and headed for Tampa. Around 8:30 a.m., the jet flew over One Buc Place, where players had gathered for their morning session. They saw the plane, with the Colts logo, as it landed several hundred feet away.

The mood was somber.

James was a frequent visitor to the Bucs' practices and games when his father coached the team.

"If James wasn't here, it was like: "Where's James?' He was part of this football team," fullback Mike Alstott said.

Bucs defensive line coach Rod Marinelli, who coached for six seasons with Dungy in Tampa, said Dungy's faith will pull him through the tragedy.

"He never wavers," Marinelli said. "His faith is unshakeable. Men look for that. I crave it, you're drawn to it as a man."

Dungy is immensely popular around the NFL, with his soft-spoken style and steady leadership. In a profession that is known for 100-hour work weeks, Dungy always made time for his family.

"He couldn't be home, that's why he always had his kids around," linebacker Shelton Quarles said.

The Dungys have four other children, daughters Tiara and Jade and sons Eric and Jordan. At times, Dungy expressed regret that he couldn't spend more time at home.

"I don't think I'll be coaching in five years," Dungy told the Orlando Sentinel last year. "There are more important things than being a football coach. Like being a father."

Displaying poise under pressure, Dungy transformed the Bucs from the league's laughingstock to a perennial playoff contender.

He was fired after the 2001 season, one year before Jon Gruden led the Dungy-built Bucs to a Super Bowl XXXVII title. Dungy moved to Indianapolis to continue his coaching career.

Prior to the Colts loss to San Diego last week, Dungy, 50, said he might stop coaching for good.

In fact, if the Colts win the Super Bowl in Detroit this season, he said he might walk away.

"You do think that way, that every year for 30 years, you're working on Labor Day, you're working on Christmas, Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving and we don't know what it's all about," he said. "So, you just wonder what it would be like to have a normal fall and do what other people do. And eventually, I will."

Across Tampa Bay, people grieved for Dungy and his family.

Mayor Pam Iorio began a park dedication Thursday by asking for a moment of silence on behalf of Dungy. "We love him and his family," she said.

Blair said the Dungys would spend the next few days at an undisclosed location in Tampa and would return to Indianapolis for Christmas.

Times staff writer Jeffrey S. Solochek and researcher Cathy Wos contributed to this report, which contains information from the Associate Press and Indianapolis Star.

[Last modified December 23, 2005, 01:14:13]