Chapter 1
The Maverick Who Revolutionized Running
In the late 1950s, a coach at the University of Oregon did something that would change American running forever. He took a waffle iron from his kitchen, poured liquid urethane into it, and created the prototype for what would become the modern running shoe. Bill Bowerman wasn't just creating footwear; he was launching a revolution that would transform athletics, fitness culture, and eventually birth the global powerhouse Nike. This rugged, innovative coach with his distinctive "Men of Oregon" philosophy would mentor Olympic champions, fight athletic bureaucracy, and pioneer the jogging movement that got millions of Americans off their couches. Beloved by celebrities from Michael Jordan to Sebastian Coe, Bowerman's influence extended far beyond track and field. His biography by Kenny Moore, himself one of Bowerman's "Men of Oregon," offers an intimate portrait of a man whose stubborn perfectionism and unconventional methods produced not just champions but a cultural movement that continues to shape how we think about physical fitness, athletic performance, and the relationship between mind and body.
Chapter 2
The Pioneer's Legacy
Bill Bowerman's story begins with his great-grandfather James Washington Chambers, who at fifteen left Andrew Jackson's plantation with only his pony, driven by what Bowerman would later call "a wild yearning for perfect freedom." This pioneering spirit defined the Bowerman lineage. J.W. led his family west on the brutal Oregon Trail in 1844, eventually establishing a 642-acre homestead on the Tualatin River. Finding the rainy Willamette Valley depressing, J.W. later discovered his personal Eden along the John Day River and established the settlement of Fossil after discovering prehistoric bones there.
This pioneering heritage shaped young Bill's upbringing. His mother Lizzie, the most headstrong of the Hoover daughters, attended Oregon Agriculture College where she excelled academically and starred on the women's championship basketball team. After graduating in 1901, she married ambitious lawyer William Jay Bowerman Sr., who built a lucrative practice and rose quickly in politics, becoming Oregon's acting governor at just thirty-three.
However, tragedy and scandal marked Bill's early years. His two-year-old brother Tommy was killed in an elevator accident, and his father divorced Lizzie amid rumors about his relationship with his young aide. The devastated Lizzie took her remaining children-Dan, Beth, and Bill-back to Fossil, determined never to rely on a man again. She earned her master's degree while raising her children, moving whenever necessary for their education.
Young Bill grew up in this matriarchal environment, shaped by his mother's fierce independence and his grandmother Mary Jane's formidable presence. During summers at the Hoover homesteads, he ran wild through the countryside, occasionally spending nights in small caves after running away from home-not because he was miserable, he'd later insist, but simply because he could. His appetite was legendary, as was his adventurous spirit, once famously interrupting a dinner prayer by standing on his chair with a knife announcing, "I'm gonna spear me a salmon."
This upbringing without a strong male influence left Bill with what his future wife Barbara would later call "a certain feminine indirection" in his approach to problems-a quality that would paradoxically serve him well in his coaching career, where his intuitive understanding of individual athletes' needs would become his hallmark.
Chapter 3
The Making of a Coach
After graduating from Oregon with a business degree in 1934, Bowerman faced limited options during the Depression. Though accepted to medical school, he lacked tuition money and refused financial help from his estranged father. He reluctantly took a teaching position at Portland's Franklin High School, planning to save for medical school.
At Franklin, Bowerman chafed under rigid rules, particularly regarding discipline. When he tracked down truant students off-campus, the principal reprimanded him for violating handbook procedures. His frustration grew until salvation came when Medford superintendent Ercel Hedrick offered him a coaching position at $1,500 annually-50% more than his Franklin salary.
Taking over from successful coach Darwin "Brute" Burgher, Bowerman implemented a single-wing offense to emphasize passing. Despite having smaller players, his 1935 Medford "Black Tornado" team went undefeated, allowing only 20 points all season while scoring 190. His diagnostic skills helped players exploit opponents' weaknesses.
In Medford, Bowerman developed his distinctive coaching philosophy-dramatically different from the brutality he'd witnessed under his own college coach Doc Spears. Bob Newland, a freshman quarterback who would later become an Olympic team manager, recalled that unlike coaches who "like to hear bodies collide," Bill taught proper technique but saved full contact for games. This approach kept talented athletes who "hate getting beaten up every day." Bowerman empowered his quarterbacks to call plays rather than dictating from the sideline, creating practices that felt like seminars where players proposed ideas for Bill's evaluation.
Bowerman's nine seasons coaching Medford football produced a 59-13-8 record. In spring 1937, he launched Medford High's first track team in fifteen years. Though he pitched it to boosters as developing "football and basketball stamina and speed," he clearly loved the sport for itself. His eight seasons coaching Medford track produced three state championships and eight Hayward Relays titles.
More importantly, he changed individual lives. He recruited Ray Johnson, "an orphan so hungry he ran down a jackrabbit," who rose at 4 a.m. to travel twelve miles to school. Recognizing Johnson's potential, Bowerman made him a quarter-miler who responded with a 47.8-second time as a senior-the fastest high school 440 in America during the 1940s.
This idyllic life ended abruptly with Pearl Harbor. Driving back to Medford with his son Jon that Sunday, Bowerman heard the news, immediately executed a U-turn, and drove to Vancouver Barracks to enlist. Despite his ROTC and Army Reserve experience, a childhood eye injury limited his duty until he finally received a meaningful assignment with the newly-forming Tenth Mountain Division's Eighty-Sixth Regiment.
Chapter 4
Forged in War
In December 1942, Lieutenant Bowerman joined the Tenth Mountain Division, created to counter Finnish ski troops. The division recruited America's best skiers, climbers, and outdoorsmen, subjecting them to brutal selection processes. Despite not being an expert skier, Bowerman's basic skills from Crater Lake and his knowledge of mules earned him a position as platoon leader.
At Camp Hale's 9,500-foot elevation, Bowerman and his fellow soldiers learned military skiing, snowshoeing, mountain climbing, and rappelling while carrying heavy rucksacks. The attrition rate was staggering-one sergeant trained 1,100 men to get just 184 for his company. Bowerman thrived in these conditions, becoming a supply officer responsible for 200 mules. Despite the harsh conditions, Bowerman, at 32, reached peak physical condition, winning the division championship in the 440-yard dash.
In March 1944, the entire division embarked on the brutal six-week "D-Series" maneuvers, living in sub-zero temperatures above 13,000 feet without fires. While over a hundred men suffered frostbite in one night alone, Bowerman excelled, even improving Army supply methods with his mule teams.
The Tenth's mission in Italy was to capture Monte Belvedere and surrounding peaks to open the road to the Po Valley. Despite fierce resistance, they secured Riva Ridge in a nighttime climb and then took Mt. Belvedere, Mt. Gorgolesco, and Mt. della Torraccia against determined German defenders. The battles cost 203 dead, 686 wounded, and 12 missing.
Bowerman's finest moment came when Ralph Lafferty was severely wounded by mortar fire. Despite standing orders prohibiting officers from driving, Bowerman commandeered a jeep, loaded the bleeding Lafferty, and drove him cross-country through dangerous territory to reach a medical transfer unit. "If he didn't save my life, he sure improved the odds," Lafferty would later say.
As the war in Italy neared its end, Bowerman took extraordinary initiative. After hearing a captured German colonel's intelligence, he drove with a small team toward Brenner Pass, bluffing his way through checkpoints until reaching a German general. With Staff Sergeant Keller interpreting, Bowerman demanded surrender: "You surely know you cannot resist our air force, artillery, and troops standing by to blast you off the map." The general admitted his situation was hoffnungslos (without hope) and arranged for 4,000 German troops to surrender.
These wartime experiences profoundly shaped Bowerman's leadership style. He learned to make quick decisions, assess talent, and most importantly, to register deaths without being emotionally destroyed by them-skills that would serve him well as a coach pushing athletes to their physical limits.
Chapter 5
Building the Oregon Dynasty
After the war, Bowerman returned to coaching at Medford High, but his destiny changed when Bill Hayward, Oregon's legendary track coach of more than forty years, retired in 1947. Athletic Director Leo Harris offered Bowerman the position at Hayward's insistence, with the condition that Bill also coach freshman football. Bowerman accepted and moved his family to Eugene in September 1948.
Starting with only two full scholarships to divide among dozens of athletes, Bowerman pressed for more resources while finding creative ways to support his team. Around 1952, he established a town-gown partnership with mill owner Harold Jones, who provided weekend jobs for Oregon athletes. The work was physically demanding-operating deafening machines that processed Douglas fir logs into veneer sheets-and exposed the college athletes to hardened mill workers. This job program would become an Oregon sports tradition for the next twenty years.
Simultaneously, Bowerman was developing his revolutionary training philosophy. Studying the methods of Finnish coaches, Hungary's Mihaly Igloi, and Czechoslovakia's Emil Zatopek, Bowerman recognized both the tremendous benefits and dangerous pitfalls of intervals, which could quickly lead runners to "staleness" or injury.
Between 1950-1952, he developed his signature "hard-easy" method, designing a system where runners did intense intervals only two or three times weekly, alternating with longer steady runs and recovery days. He insisted on training individuals rather than teams, monitoring each runner's pulse and form, sending home anyone looking "tight and dull." His revolutionary approach-"Stress, recover, improve, that's all training is"-was initially despised by traditional coaches who believed "the more you put in, the more you get out."
Bowerman's first real talent was Canadian Jack Hutchins, who would become an Olympian at 800 and 1500 meters. Hutchins invented a signature Oregon tactic-disappearing behind Hayward Field's grandstand in fifth place and emerging in first, creating dramatic moments that delighted crowds. Bowerman not only taught this tactic but refined it, training his runners with 330-yard sprints and pull-ups to strengthen their arms and lats for sustained kicks. This long-kick strategy would win countless races for Oregon runners for decades.
In 1949, the Bowermans found their dream property along the McKenzie River. They purchased sixty acres for $4,000 and built their home with help from fellow professors and track team members. The house became a testing ground for Bowerman's athletes, who were regularly assigned tasks-moving sand, building fences, or digging gardens-as tests of moral fiber.
Chapter 6
The Four-Minute Barrier and Beyond
By the mid-1950s, Bowerman's training methods were producing remarkable results. Bill Dellinger, discovered in a ninth-grade PE mile, transformed from a teenager "hanging out in bars, smoking cigarettes, chasing girls and trapping muskrats" into a dedicated runner. At Oregon, Dellinger trained under Bowerman's guidance, gradually increasing his distances as part of what Dellinger later called his "callousing process."
The strategy paid off when sophomore Dellinger won the 1954 NCAA mile championship with perfect tactical execution-starting conservatively and finishing with a powerful kick. Bowerman later called this "my greatest and most satisfying experience." Dellinger would eventually break world and American records at longer distances, validating Bowerman's training methods.
After Dellinger's breakthrough, Bowerman recruited Australian miler Jim Bailey, who he met after the 1954 British Empire Games. Despite being 25 with a broken foot and considering retirement, Bailey accepted Bowerman's foreign student scholarship. Initially shocked by the 45-minute continuous runs with Dellinger and Ken Reiser, Bailey's Australian pride kept him going: "No Aussie man is going to be left by college boys."
The training transformed Bailey from a 4:12 miler to an NCAA champion. At the 1955 NCAA Championships, Bailey and Dellinger stunned favorite Bob Seaman, finishing first and second with Bailey winning in 4:05.6. When Reiser also won the two-mile, people began asking, "Where were these guys coming from?" Bowerman wasn't developing isolated talents-he was creating a succession of champions.
In May 1956, mile world record holder John Landy raced in a special mile at the USC-UCLA meet. Bowerman couldn't attend but strategized with Dellinger and Bailey beforehand. When Bailey caught and passed Landy in the final stretch, finishing in 3:58.6, he became the first person to run a sub-four-minute mile on American soil. All of Eugene celebrated, with schools and stores halting to listen to the broadcast.
By 1958, Jim Grelle had improved to 4:01.7 and qualified for the US-USSR dual meet in Moscow. There, before 80,000 hostile spectators and Soviet Premier Khrushchev, Grelle won the 1500m in 3:46.7, hearing only his own footsteps in the stunned silence. Meanwhile, Bill Dellinger battled Soviet champion Pyotr Bolotnikov in a thrilling 5000m that ended in a 14:28.4 tie.
In the same year, basketball coach Steve Belko handed Otis Davis to Bowerman after the 25-year-old Alabama native and military veteran struggled to get playing time. Davis, the first Black athlete many Eugene kids had seen up close, quickly impressed with 9.6 and 21.5 times in the 100 and 220-yard dashes. Bowerman moved him to the 440, where Davis ran an impressive 48.6 in his first attempt.
Chapter 7
Olympic Glory and Innovation
In Rome 1960, Bowerman's athletes achieved remarkable Olympic success. Otis Davis surprised everyone by winning gold in the 400m with a world record 44.9 seconds-the first man under 45 seconds. Davis later anchored the US 4 x 400-meter relay to another gold medal and world record.
Impressed by New Zealand's Olympic success under coach Arthur Lydiard, Bowerman introduced himself to the coach with whom he'd been corresponding. Lydiard coached Peter Snell to gold in the 800m, Murray Halberg to victory in the 5000m, and marathon bronze medalist Barry Magee. Bowerman was awed by Lydiard's achievement-three medals including two gold from runners in the same Auckland track club. The two coaches formed an immediate bond, with Lydiard's revolutionary "marathon training" approach influencing Bowerman's thinking.
Three years before Rome, Bowerman had begun experimenting with shoemaking when his supply of discounted Adidas imports dwindled. After studying with a reluctant cobbler and dissecting various shoes, Bowerman set up a workshop and began creating custom racing shoes for his athletes.
Bowerman obsessed about reducing shoe weight for a mathematical reason: a miler taking 880 steps would save 55 pounds of effort by removing just one ounce from each shoe. While American shoes typically weighed 7-10 ounces and even the lightest Adidas weighed five, Bowerman quickly reduced his designs to three ounces.
He created truly custom-fit shoes by drawing outlines of runners' feet, measuring circumferences at different points, and creating plastic lasts that were exactly shaped to each athlete's foot. His shoes were designed to be worn without socks for maximum performance. The first major win for Bowerman's homemade shoes came when Otis Davis defeated favored Bobby Stanton at the 1959 Pacific Coast Conference meet.
One of Bowerman's first custom shoe recipients was Phil Knight, who proved his character to his coach through a challenging time trial while sick. Despite protesting, Knight ran a personal record when Bowerman forced him to compete ill, showing the determination Bowerman was testing for. Years later, Knight would credit this "world-class shock" administered by Bowerman as the foundation for Nike, explaining it taught him "not simply the shock, but the way to respond" and attached "such honor to not giving up."
Chapter 8
The Revolution Begins
In December 1962, Bowerman traveled to New Zealand where Arthur Lydiard introduced him to jogging. After running daily during his six-week stay, Bowerman lost ten pounds and three inches from his waistline. When he returned to Eugene, Barbara exclaimed he looked ten years younger.
Bowerman issued a public invitation to try jogging at Hayward Field. The first Sunday drew two dozen citizens, the next fifty, and the third week two hundred. By the fourth week, thousands showed up, alarming Bowerman who feared someone might die. He partnered with cardiologist Dr. Waldo Harris to develop safe training programs, starting with a pace of twelve-minute miles. They conducted studies with faculty members and later 100 middle-aged subjects through the YMCA, finding dramatic weight loss and improved well-being among participants.
Overwhelmed by inquiries, Bowerman and Harris created an 18-page pamphlet in 1966, which Barbara Bowerman insisted include women. The following year, they expanded it into the book "Jogging," which sold a million copies. This movement helped shift American attitudes toward exercise, paving the way for the running boom that would follow Frank Shorter's 1972 Olympic marathon victory.
Meanwhile, after graduating from Oregon in 1959, Phil Knight spent time in the Army Reserves before attending Stanford Business School. There, a class assignment to create a business plan sparked his idea to import Japanese athletic shoes as a cheaper alternative to expensive German brands like Adidas.
In 1962, Knight traveled to Japan and approached Onitsuka Company, maker of Tiger shoes, presenting himself as representative of "Blue Ribbon Sports of Portland." When samples arrived in December 1963, Knight sent pairs to Bowerman, who recognized their potential despite being "as fat as banjos."
In January 1964, they formed a partnership-Bowerman would test and design shoes while Knight ran the business, each investing $500 (Barbara's hidden savings). Knight began selling Tigers from his Plymouth Valiant, earning a $2 commission per pair.
When Knight's Onitsuka Tiger shoes began showing problems, Bowerman's critical eye went to work. After Kenny Moore suffered a stress fracture running in the TG-22 model that lacked arch support, Bill tore the shoe apart, calling it a "double-shit shoe." He designed prototypes addressing these flaws, which Moore tested extensively. The resulting shoe-named the Cortez-featured industrial belting for the outer sole, a full-length cushioned innersole, and shock-absorbing arch support. Introduced in 1966, the Cortez made BRS viable, becoming so popular that despite attempts to discontinue it, customer demand kept it in production as the first stable, cushioned road running shoe that crossed into fashion.
Chapter 9
Enter, Prefontaine
In spring 1969, a talented high school runner from Coos Bay, Oregon arrived at the University of Oregon. Steve Prefontaine had set the state two-mile record of 9:01.3 as a junior at Marshfield High. The son of Ray Prefontaine and German-born Elfriede, Pre had struggled early in school knowing more German than English. He found running in eighth grade, discovering he could excel through sheer discomfort tolerance. As a senior, he broke the national high school two-mile record with 8:41.5.
Though recruited by hundreds of schools, Pre received just a simple handwritten note from Bowerman stating that if he chose Oregon, Bowerman had "every confidence I could become the greatest runner in the world." Pre signed immediately.
With Dellinger now assisting Bowerman and Pre on the team, Oregon's approach to cross-country shifted. Previously, Bowerman had viewed fall running primarily as preparation for track season, rarely emphasizing NCAA championships. But Pre changed everything. In his freshman year (1969), Pre and Washington State's Gerry Lindgren produced three memorable races, with Pre finishing third at the NCAA championships behind Lindgren and Air Force's Mike Ryan.
Pre's stubborn desire to focus on the mile created early tension with Bowerman. When Pre refused to run the two-mile at a spring meet in Fresno, Bowerman bluntly suggested he consider which university he'd be running for if he didn't comply. Pre stormed out, returned fifteen minutes later with a terse "Okay. Fine. Got it," and promptly won the two-mile in 8:40.0. This single test of wills settled their relationship-Pre never seriously defied Bowerman again.
By April 1970, Pre demonstrated his true calling when he ran a 13:12.8 three-mile, the fastest by an American in two years. Psychologically, Pre opposed the Burleson tradition of waiting to kick. His model was Australia's Ron Clarke, who broke seventeen world records between 1963 and 1970. Pre embraced Clarke's front-runner philosophy that "the single most horrible thing that can happen to a runner is to be beaten in the stretch when he is still fresh."
Three days before the 1970 NCAA Championships three-mile final at Drake University, Pre gashed his right foot on an exposed bolt by the motel pool, requiring a dozen stitches. With Pre unable to run the semifinal, Bowerman orchestrated some strategic theater. Pre appeared at check-in wearing racing gear, looking eager to compete, which convinced several contenders to switch to other events. With only fifteen entrants declaring, the semifinal was cancelled, giving Pre two crucial days to recover.
In the final, foot tightly wrapped, Pre showed no sign of impairment. When Minnesota's Bjorklund and Villanova's Buerkle challenged with two laps remaining, Pre instinctively refused to yield, closing with two consecutive 60-second laps to win in 13:22.0. His victory gave Oregon 10 points, creating a three-way tie with BYU and Kansas for the national team title-Bowerman's fourth.
Chapter 10
The Birth of Nike
As Knight promoted Tigers at track meets throughout 1964, Bowerman focused on preparing his athletes for the Tokyo Olympics. Meanwhile, Blue Ribbon Sports was growing. Jeff Johnson, a bookish romantic with a Stanford anthropology degree, built BRS's mail-order business from scratch with minimal guidance from Knight. By 1965, he was selling enough Tigers that his apartment couldn't contain the operation, so he opened BRS's first retail store in Santa Monica in 1967.
After Bob Woodell suffered a paralyzing accident, Bowerman recognized his mental toughness would translate to business success. Knight hired Woodell to manage a Eugene retail store before he transferred to Portland. Despite being wheelchair-bound, Woodell refused special treatment. When Knight finally became BRS's full-time CEO in 1969, he chose Woodell as his top manager.
Knight signed a three-year contract with Onitsuka giving BRS exclusive U.S. rights to market Tigers in exchange for selling only Onitsuka brands, expiring in 1972. During these years, Knight sold every cushioned shoe Tiger shipped, as competitors failed to recognize the market for shock-absorbing road shoes.
As BRS grew successful, it attracted predatory eyes. In March 1971, Shoji Kitami, charged with Onitsuka's international expansion, came to Portland with plans to meet American distributors. Despite Knight's protests about violating their exclusivity contract, Kitami returned from his tour with an ultimatum: BRS must surrender New York and California markets-a fifth of Knight's business-or accept a "joint venture" where Onitsuka would own 51% of the company.
Playing for time, Knight sent Kitami a warm but noncommittal letter while secretly planning their escape. Following John Jaqua's advice to "find another hole to jump in," Knight flew to Japan in October 1971 and secured backing from trading company Nissho Iwai. They financed Knight's first order of 20,000 pairs from Nippon Rubber Company, including 6,000 pairs of the Cortez design.
With a deadline looming to name their new brand, Jeff Johnson suggested "Nike"-the Greek winged goddess of victory-after reading about memorable brand names containing exotic letters or sounds. Knight reluctantly approved, telling Woodell, "I guess we'll go with the Nike thing for a while."
During the tense summer of 1971, while keeping Onitsuka's threats secret, Bowerman began experimenting with urethane and Barbara's waffle iron as therapy. The resulting "urethane spikes" gripped remarkably well on various surfaces. Geoff Hollister and Kenny Moore tested early prototypes, with Moore later running a personal record 4:03.2 mile in waffles, thought to be the fastest mile in flat shoes at that time.
One Sunday morning in 1971, while Barbara was at church, Bowerman's attention fell on their waffle iron. Seeing its square nubs as halfway between spikes and cleats, he took it to his shop, poured in liquid urethane, and accidentally bonded it shut. Realizing he needed the reverse pattern of a waffle, he bought two more irons (replacing Barbara's) and experimented with plaster molds.
Though Knight wasn't initially impressed with the waffle sole concept except for football shoes, Bowerman remained convinced they were "the thing to sole some road shoes." The resulting Waffle Trainer became the company's first big moneymaker, helping fuel Nike's meteoric growth.
Chapter 11
Legacy of Innovation
In 1973, exhausted and discouraged after the Munich Olympics, Bill Bowerman made the unexpected decision to retire at age sixty-two. The catalyst was the fire marshal's declaration that Hayward Field's aging west grandstand would need replacement. Recognizing he couldn't both coach effectively and lead a major construction project, Bowerman stepped down to chair the fundraising drive for the new facility.
Bowerman marshaled the Oregon Track Club to raise $600,000 for the new stands. Each board member pledged to contribute or raise $30,000, following Bill's exhortation: "Give it or get it!" When bids came in higher than expected due to soaring steel prices amid the global oil shortage, Bowerman and architect John Amundson pivoted to using laminated Douglas fir beams from Oregon's timber industry.
After graduation, Pre faced financial challenges that would be unimaginable to later champions. He cobbled together income from European race appearance fees (paid illegally under amateur rules), part-time jobs, and bartending. When Bowerman learned of the bartending, he confronted Pre about his influence on youth. Pre immediately agreed to quit. Shortly after, Nike hired Pre as its first paid track athlete spokesman at $5,000 annually-technically violating AAU rules, but with Bowerman's blessing.
In early 1975, Pre turned down a $200,000 professional contract-the largest in the International Track Association's history-to maintain his Olympic eligibility for Montreal 1976. At physiological testing in Dallas, he recorded the highest maximum oxygen consumption ever measured in a runner (84.4 mg/kg/min). Yet he maintained that success came from mental toughness rather than talent, telling his girlfriend Mary that "talent was a myth" and that he succeeded through superior pain tolerance.
Pre organized a tour for Finnish athletes across Oregon as a way to repay the hospitality he'd experienced in Scandinavia. After the final meet in Eugene, a party at Geoff Hollister's house brought together Finnish athletes, host families, and Pre's parents. Later that night, after dropping Frank Shorter at Kenny Moore's house and making plans to run together the next morning, Pre drove off. Minutes later, he died when his MGB flipped over on Skyline Drive.
Pre's death triggered an outpouring of grief across Oregon and beyond. Senator Mark Hatfield explained Pre's hold on Oregon's imagination to the U.S. Senate, noting that Pre's willingness to challenge track's governing bodies and his loyalty to Oregon fans only increased his popularity. "Pre was each of us fighting against a bureaucracy caring only about its own preservation," Hatfield declared.
Chapter 12
The Enduring Legacy
Bowerman led efforts to preserve Pre's legacy, immediately renaming the annual Restoration meet as the "Steve Prefontaine Classic." He gathered Pre's father Ray, along with athletes and community leaders, to establish the nonprofit Steve Prefontaine Foundation, which built Pre's Trail-six miles of springy cedar bark paths in Alton Baker Park with exercise stations that Pre had envisioned after seeing similar facilities in Europe.
As Nike grew, Bowerman's role became increasingly uncomfortable, caught between being Knight's conscience and Knight essentially becoming his boss. Knight admitted the complexity of their relationship: "To this day, I'm not sure I didn't start this company to please Bill Bowerman."
In 1979, Bowerman received a surprise tribute at Nike's annual sales meeting-a video of his life set to "My Way" that moved him to tears. Nike's meteoric rise continued, with sales doubling every year since 1976. By 1980, Nike reached $270 million in sales, becoming America's number-one athletic shoe company.
With Nike's initial public offering in 1980, Bowerman's shares were suddenly worth $9 million, though his lifestyle showed no sign of his new wealth. He did, however, use his liquidity to make a characteristic gesture-appearing at Kenny Moore's door with a printout showing that $1,000 invested in 1966 would now be worth $750,000, then presenting a box of Cortez shoes, assuring Moore they would always be available to him.
Around 1980, Bowerman began experiencing troubling health symptoms-losing his balance, ankle weakness, and difficulty driving. After extensive testing, his condition was diagnosed as "toxic polyneuropathy" caused by twenty-three years of working with acrylamide glue and toxic solvents in unventilated quarters while making shoes. The great irony wasn't lost on him-the man who gave soft, light shoes to runners worldwide could no longer run in them himself.
In December 1999, Bill helped Barbara prepare their Christmas cards. On Christmas Eve, at eighty-eight, he passed away peacefully while Barbara was in the shower. Finding him gone, she remarked, "Oh, it's just like you to go on ahead, and with absolutely no warning!"
Months after Bill's death, Barbara discovered an unfinished letter to Phil Knight that Bill had written but never sent. Written on a legal pad during their final days at the McKenzie View homestead, the letter expressed Bill's deep admiration for Knight's leadership in growing Blue Ribbon Sports into international Nike Inc. Knight, upon receiving the pad from Barbara, asked if it would make him cry before taking it away to read privately. Later, he revealed he kept the letter in "a sacred drawer," finally knowing that Bill Bowerman had judged him worthy.
Bill Bowerman's legacy lives on not just in Nike's global success but in the countless lives he touched-athletes he coached, students he mentored, and millions of ordinary people who discovered the joy of running through his pioneering work. His insistence on innovation, his belief in individual potential, and his commitment to pushing boundaries continue to inspire generations of athletes, coaches, and entrepreneurs around the world.
