Close your eyes and the image is still visible, ingrained like a bright light.

There is Gerry Bram, lying motionless near midfield, body shaking as a defibrillator begs to his heart, priest bowing for last rights, crowd fixed in silence that would shock a librarian.

Onto the stretcher, into the ambulance, Bram was zipped away from the Carrier Dome on Sept. 29, leaving behind nothing but a frightening image and a Syracuse-East Carolina football game that suddenly felt ridiculous.

Just minutes earlier, Bram was nothing more than a faceless Conference USA referee. With one fall he became a prayer in the minds of 36,000 frightened fans.

All of which explains why Saturday, before Syracuse played its home opener against North Carolina, Bram returned to the scene of his massive heart attack and creates a lasting image considerably more upbeat.

Bram, invited back to take part in the opening coin toss, welcomed applause as he proudly twirled from midfield toward the sideline, where he’d watch the rest of the game.

‘I was overwhelmed,’ Bram said. ‘It was just so emotional for me. I don’t know what it looked like from upstairs, but I had a few tears in my eyes.’

Call it a role reversal. Because a little less than a year ago, the emotion belonged to the fans. As Bram lay motionless and unaware, SU’s medical team sped through an ultimate two-minute drill of emergency rescue. Fans, on the other hand, turned back to the prayers that had become all-too-familiar since Sept. 11.

The thoughts lasted long after the game.

‘Jeez, let me see,’ said Bram, trying to recount the numerous gifts he received in the following weeks. ‘I got fruit baskets, flowers, cards. A lot of them just said, ‘From a Syracuse fan.’ People didn’t even include their names. The people here, the SU fans, have just done so much for me.’

Bram raised an orange Syracuse hat from his head and waived it toward the farthest reaches of seating when he left the field Saturday, a thank you for his reception.

It’s a send-off Bram would like to remember, especially because he’s done with the holding penalties and the boos. He’s done with the travel and the stress. His officiating career over. Bram now works full-time in his sales job. He also relishes the chance to spend increased time with his wife of 28 years and two children.

‘My perspective on life has changed,’ said Bram, who suffered 35 percent damage to his heart. ‘I got a second chance — it’s up to me to do something with it. I’ve had to change some things. I’m restricted from lifting weights, but I wasn’t much for lifting weights before either. My diet’s changed. I haven’t touched a salt shaker since my heart attack.’

He also celebrated his 50th birthday. In November, Bram sat at a restaurant for a dinner of celebration with his family, the same family that, on the day of his heart attack, had rushed from their Southampton, Pa., home in time to hold his hand by 9 p.m. Bram stayed at University Hospital for eight days, during which he pieced together the incident.

‘I remember right before I had the heart attack, there was a missed field goal attempt,” Bram said. “Next play, I’m getting ready, and then all of a sudden I can remember feeling faint and seeing light. After that, there’s nothing.’

Bram’s first cause for concern came long before that faintness or his indigestion symptoms following a brisk halftime meal. Bram’s grandfather died of a heart attack, and his father survived a six-valve bypass surgery 10 years ago, then survived another heart attack three weeks ago.

If those thoughts were on Bram’s mind Saturday, he concealed them. He greeted fans near the sideline with a warm, round smile — one that seemed almost too human to come from a once-anonymous back judge.

‘I walked around at halftime, and people were stopping me everywhere telling me what they felt like at the game last year,’ Bram said. ‘It just gave me such a great feeling.’

Perhaps that feeling is mutual. Many in attendance at the Dome last weekend still vividly recall when they saw Bram topple, face-first to the turf.

Thankfully, that’s not the last image he left us with.

Published on September 9, 2002 at 12:00 pm