He has a thousand and one stories: That time he met Dr. Martin Luther King. That time he got chewed out by legendary football coach and fellow Knight Vince Lombardi. That time he had breakfast with baseball great Stan Musial and St. John Paul II.
Perhaps the most unlikely story of all is how Jimmy Murray, raised in a Philadelphia row house, became general manager of that city’s football team when he was only 36 — the youngest GM in NFL history without a family connection. Murray, a member of De La Salle Council 590 in Aldan, Pennsylvania, sees God’s hand in all the stories. “In everything that I’ve ever done, I see His purpose,” he wrote in his memoir, Life Is an Audible (Harrowood Books, 2019).
This is especially true of his work co-founding Ronald McDonald House, a home-away-from-home for sick children receiving hospital treatment. Inspired by a physician’s request, Murray leveraged his marketing skills and sports connections to build the organization’s first house in Philadelphia in 1974. He’s been promoting the work of Ronald McDonald House Charities ever since.
Murray, who is featured in season two of Everyday Heroes, spoke with Columbia about his storied life and how God has used him to help children and their families when they need it most.
NEIGHBORS AND BROTHERS
I was born and raised on Brooklyn Street, Philadelphia, in Our Lady of Sorrows Parish. We were poorer than poor, but we were richer than rich. My Pop-Pop lived on the next step, and my aunts and uncles lived on the same block. We walked to school, where we had the Sisters of St. Joseph. I’m still in love with Sister St. Therese — she had 90 kids in that class. It formed my life to be a part of a good parish.
My father was the most humble, hardworking man. He got up early in the morning for the long walk to the University of Pennsylvania, where he ran the dining service. He really had very little social life because he was so busy. But when we moved out to the suburbs, to Holy Cross Parish, my dad joined the Knights and it changed his life. He built a community of friends. When many people think of the Knights of Columbus, they just think the Fourth Degree — but you know what the Knights are? A bunch of neighbors, coming together, extending their friendship. They are brothers.
Holy Cross was a new parish, and before the church was built Masses were held in the K of C building. The Knights were the rock upon which a lot of Catholic foundations were formed. My dad was very proud to be a part of that. Some of the great times in my life were at their family activities. I looked up to those guys — they were role models.
All my life has been in team sports, and what I saw with the Knights was a great team. That’s why I followed in my dad’s footsteps and joined too.
‘GET US A HOUSE’
In 1974, the year I was named general manager of the Philadelphia Eagles, we had a player named Fred Hill who got a punch in the heart: his child was diagnosed with leukemia. So he and his buddy started a charity called Eagles Fly for Leukemia.
At their first fundraising event, the Eagles owner, Leonard Tose, called me over and said, “Find out what this charity is about — it’s got our name, maybe we can help them even more.”
I thought, if you’re going to ask people for money, you’d better find out about the disease. So, I went to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia and met with Dr. Audrey Evans, the head oncologist. I didn’t even know what an oncologist was! I go in and say, “Dr. Evans, Jim Murray of the Philadelphia Eagles.”
No smile. “What are they?”
“What are they?” I said. “We’re the NFL team.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
All right, strike one.
I said, “Well, we’re on TV every week.”
“I don’t watch TV.” Strike two.
So then I said the magic word. “We have cash.”
“Oh, come right in.”
Long story short — which is hard for me — the Eagles raised a bundle for Children’s Hospital with a promotion at Veterans Stadium.
I told her, “Dr. Evans, we raised $140,000.”
What she said next changed my life and a lot of others.
“You know what else we need?” Dr. Evans said. “When I tell a family their child has leukemia, I’ve changed their family’s life forever. So I’d like to get a room in a YMCA where they could stay while their child’s being treated.”
I said, “You know, you need a house.”
And she replied, “Good, get us a house.”
The order had come down. Dr. Evans spoke in similar tones to the Almighty.
Finding a house for Dr. Evans? How would I do that? I reacted the way I always do when I have no direction. I prayed! The entire ride home, I prayed, “God, don’t let me disappoint Dr. Evans.”
I called a guy named Don Tuckerman who worked for the ad agency for McDonald’s. We had done some things together. I said, “So what’s your next promotion?”
“You know what it is — St. Patrick’s Day. Shamrock Shakes.”
Green milkshakes, green money!
I said, “Can I get 25 cents from each Shamrock Shake for this house?”
He told me to talk to McDonald’s head guy for the region, Ed Renzi, who said, “If we give you the money from the Shamrock Shakes, can we call it the Ronald McDonald House?”
I said, “If you give me all the money, I don’t care if you call it the Hamburglar House.”
We opened the first Ronald McDonald House on Oct. 15, 1974, not far from where I was born. I knew from the first day we opened the house in Philly that this should be duplicated. The McMiracle, as I call it, happened from there. A couple of years later, there was a second house in Chicago. Today there are 368 houses all over the globe.
A WORLD OF GOOD
I’m the most unlikely guy to be telling this story. The Miraculous Medal Novena has a line about how Jesus has “chosen the weak things of the world that no flesh may glory.” I could never pass biology at Villanova University. And here I am dealing with deans in medical schools. God has a sense of humor.
When I was a kid, we didn’t even have a car. We rode on the bus. Just going down to the Jersey Shore was like Exodus. But the Ronald McDonald House has put me in places all over the world. And as different as each culture is, families face the exact same problems that Dr. Evans explained to me the first time.
On the wall of the Philadelphia Ronald McDonald House is a map with little pins showing where families have come from to try to save their child’s life. And you can’t even see the wall because there are so many different countries represented. But it’s not about statistics. It comes down to each kid.
And it also comes down to the doctors and volunteers who work at these houses. They are the real heroes. They work 24/7 for those kids. You never get used to it. Dr. Evans is still my hero. Just to be around her has been one of the great gifts in my life.
When a child gets sick, everybody rallies around. That’s what family is. It’s the ultimate huddle! You all get together and say, “What’s our next play?”
You know, when the Eagles won the Super Bowl in 2018, they scored a touchdown by throwing the ball to the quarterback. Sometimes that’s what you have to do! You have to invent a play. Well, the Ronald McDonald House was my play; it was my Super Bowl.