In the course of a lifetime, we meet people from all works of life. The more famous are easier to remember. Among the famous people I have met are Billy Graham, Oral Roberts, Col. Harlan Sanders, Andy Rooney, and James Bond (Australian George Lazenby who was Bond in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.”)

We saw Deng Xiaoping’s wife, Pu Zhuolin. (Among China’s communist leaders, their marriage lasted longer and appeared to be one of the happiest.) We saw Zhoulin leaving a beauty parlor in the Beijing Hotel. We waved at Diana Shore from a tour bus in Hollywood. Shook Steve McQueen’s hand and thought we saw actress Jodie Foster in the LA airport. (It turned out to be Helen Hunt.) Speaking of Hunts, we did have breakfast and lunch with oil tycoon H.L. Hunt’s wife and daughter.

One person I really regret not meeting was Barry Goldwater. He flew into San Manuel, Ariz., to speak to a civic club. I was busy doing something and didn’t have enough sense to cancel it. I have seen a lot of pictures of him.

A referee with the National Basketball Association has been charged with betting on games, maybe even on some games he worked.

Reminds me of the big football game in the Polo Grounds (where the New York Yankees and Giants once played) between Yale University and the Carlisle Institute Indians.

Carlisle was a school for Native Americans in central Pennsylvania. They were made up of Chippewa, Iroquois, Cherokee and Cheyenne kids age 12 to 25. The school has a love-hate heritage. One purpose of the school was to “Kill the Indian, Make the man.” As bad as it sounds it was (no joke) the school’s motto.

They were pulled off the reservations to be made “Americans.” Blotting out their cultural identity came from the attitude of the times (1870-1920).

Carlisle could compete with any of the Ivy League schools, often beating larger and rougher teams. At the Polo Grounds, the Indians had a touchdown called back and therefore lost the game to Yale. The referee who called the score back was a Yale graduate. New York newspapers reported the Indians could beat 11 Yale players but not 11 Yale players and a Yale referee.

(In her book, “The Real All Americans: The Team that Changed a Game, a People, a Nation,” Washington Post sports columnist Sally Jenkins recounts in rich detail the triumphant — and often overlooked history of the Carlisle Indians.)

At an Albanian soccer match the fans were said to go to the ref and tell him that the game won’t be over ‘til their team wins. Good try, but I don’t think that would work here.

To call the integrity of referees into question is pretty pathetic, even though I do it during all of the televised games I watch. There is no conspiracy going on among the stripped shirts. Incom-petence, maybe.

Terry Bradshaw was leaving the airport in Philadelphia, but he didn’t see us. The only NFL players I ever knew were Hershel and Bill Forrester who were in my Sunday school class back in ‘43. They were in Brownwood because their Army Major father was stationed at Camp Bowie. They went on to star at Southern Methodist and Green Bay and Cleveland. I am sure these brothers never had any problem with the refs. Good guys don’t.

Britt Towery played third cornet for Brownwood High and HPU but never played a down of real-live football, much less referee. His e-mail address is bet@suddenlink.net. His column appears in the Bulletin on Fridays.