Jason Whittle Can’t Shake Off A Viral Internet Rumor: His Post-9/11 Actions Should Be The Real Story
Jason Whittle should be known as a man of great faith, a father of six and a husband of 25 years.
He should also be known for his community work at Ground Zero after the September 11 attacks, especially for the deep compassion with which he helped the bereaved family of his best friend.
After that, he would be known as a relentless and versatile NFL offensive player who played in a Super Bowl 11 times.
Despite what the Internet claims, Whittle does not want to be known as Patrick Swayze’s son.
“I’d like to set the record straight,” Whittle said.
Whittle’s Wikipedia page has more edits than a thumbnail biography of an NFL stalwart should have. He played 142 games, starting 45 for the New York Giants, Tampa Bay Buccaneers, Minnesota Vikings and Buffalo Bills, but most people associate him with Swayze, the blockbuster leading man from such major films as “Dirty Dancing,” “Ghost” and “Road House.”
Rumors have circulated in recent years that Whittle is Swayze’s secret son. The information has been added to the Wikipedia page repeatedly, especially in recent years, only to be quickly removed.
“It’s absolutely not true!” said Whittle, nearly screaming with laughter. “I never said it was true!”
That’s why Whittle wanted to talk to him The AthleticsAlthough his family finds the online phenomenon amusing, he wants a report to be made on its inaccuracy.
It’s also a good excuse to remind people what Whittle is really about, because his story is remarkable enough without any embellishment.
It turns out that there is a man named Jason Whittle who claims to be Swayze’s son. The tabloids and Hollywood trade publications picked up the story, and one of them linked Jason Whittle to the football player very early on.
“It actually started seven or eight years ago, or at least when I became aware of it,” our Whittle said from his home near Lake Ozark, Mo. “A friend sent me an article, and in the article it wasn’t me. It was another guy, a guy a year older than me. He’s from out of town, not super far from me in Missouri, but not really. I’ve never met the guy.
“The whole article was about him, but the very last line said he played in the NFL.”
The story went viral. Swayze is so famous and the appetite for celebrity gossip is so great that websites spread the story as if it were fact.
Search online now for “Jason Whittle” and as soon as you finish typing the “L” the algorithm will add Swayze’s name as well. Click the button and you’ll see Whittle’s smiling face, usually from his official Bills headshot.
Jason Whittle’s 2008 Buffalo Bills headshot is accompanied by false stories about him online. (Getty Images)
“I probably get asked a couple times a week,” Whittle grumbled. A European television station once called, wanting to visit Missouri to interview him.
Given what “secret love child” entails, Whittle is thinking more of his parents than himself when it comes to the big story. Kerry and Laura Whittle, married for 52 years, are devout Christians, which tickles the family even more.
“It’s a big, long-running joke in our family,” Whittle said. “Literally, it’s like once or twice a week I get an email or someone asks me.
“One of the women my mom studies with and has known for a long time came up to her one day and said, ‘I hate to ask this, but the girls and I have been talking and you don’t have to answer if it’s too painful, but is this true?’ My dad thinks it’s hilarious.”
Jason’s wife, Natalie Whittle, is the most upset. Jason said she worries that people will read these reports and think they have “Swayze money” in their home.
Whittle’s life doesn’t have to be sensational to find value. The family is active in Potter’s House of Camdenton, a nondenominational Christian church, and has done mission work in the Philippines. The Whittles have participated in ministry initiatives with the Institute at Kanakuk in Branson, Mo. His four daughters have graduated from or are still studying at religious colleges. His two sons are in elementary school.
Throughout his life and career he was known as a man of extraordinary virtue, a great teammate and a loyal friend.
And one more thing:
“He was a tough, tough son of a bitch,” said Jim McNally, his offensive line coach with the Giants and Bills. “He was as mean, angry and block-finishing as anybody. He didn’t know pain. He wasn’t one of those 340-pound guys, but he was athletic and versatile. He could have been a fullback like that kid in Baltimore, Patrick Ricard. He could play blocking tight end. He was our backup center.”
Whittle, who went undrafted by Southwestern Missouri State in 1998, was an overachiever, an undersized survivor. Injuries forced him to become the Giants’ long snapper. Thus, he by extension shares the record for most points in a Super Bowl. He started 15 games, including one in the postseason, and played the last month with four broken ribs.
In 2003, Jon Gruden of the reigning Super Bowl champion Buccaneers made Whittle their first free-agent signing, though a broken right fibula derailed their plans. A year later, the Giants brought Whittle back in a trade.
McNally pushed the Bills to sign Whittle in 2007 as part of a costly O-line overhaul that included left guard Derrick Dockery and right tackle Langston Walker to play alongside incumbent left tackle Jason Peters. Whittle also played some fullback the following season.
“He was one of my favorite players ever,” McNally said. “He was a person of character, a hard worker, probably the strongest guy on our football team. I can’t say enough good things about him.”
McNally only talked about Whittle, the football player.
While playing for the Giants, Whittle proved he could do more than that.
As humanity searched for meaning in life after terrorists hijacked commercial airliners and flew them into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a Pennsylvania sports field, killing nearly 3,000 people, Whittle was one of the most prominent American sports figures to provide perspective.
“You hope that all the lessons and all the things that you learned at that point in time are not forgotten,” Whittle said last week. “Time makes some of those things go away. But from that moment on, everything changed.”
Whittle gave dozens of interviews in the aftermath and visited Ground Zero multiple times because he knew people were scared and angry and trying to make sense of it. He was more affected immediately than most, and knew he had a useful message to share from a powerful platform.
Debris from the second Twin Tower struck Randy Drake on the street. Randy, a network integration manager for Siemens International and a U.S. Army veteran, was in Manhattan on a construction project. He was the older brother of Whittle’s best friend, Greg Drake.
Drake’s family asked Whittle to find a way to Bellevue Hospital so Randy wouldn’t have to suffer alone. Manhattan was on lockdown. Whittle tried the George Washington Bridge, the Lincoln Tunnel, the Holland Tunnel, the ferries. The trip from New Jersey would normally take 45 minutes, but Whittle navigated the streets for more than four hours. In desperation, he returned to the GW Bridge and begged a police officer to let him through so he could comfort his dying brother. It wasn’t a lie. The Drakes had 13 children, and Whittle always thought of himself as the 14th. He called their parents Mama Drake and Big Daddy Don.
Whittle held Randy’s hand. Randy, only 37 years old, was not going to make it; that much was clear. So Whittle sat there, tears streaming down his face, and just kept talking to him, sharing all those memories of him growing up, telling him how loved he was.
“The fact that Jason was there and holding Randy’s hand meant a lot to us,” Greg Drake told USA Today in 2006.
Jason Whittle (No. 66) and the Giants played in Kansas City on September 23, 2001. (Elsa / Allsport)
Randy, eventually taken to a Kansas City hospital, died on September 22. The Giants played the Chiefs the next day at Arrowhead Stadium, the NFL’s first weekend after games were canceled the week before. Greg Drake was in attendance, as was Randy’s teenage son, Joe.
“Just seeing the Kansas City fans, the way they reacted to us being there,” Whittle said, “it’s still hard not to get emotional about that when you really think about it.”
Back at Ground Zero, Whittle rallied around to cheer on the community. He was a celebrity by default, having been a member of the Giants’ Super Bowl team just eight months earlier. A week after the attacks, Whittle and a group of Giants visited FDNY Engine 40 and Ladder 35, where families of the missing were still waiting for their loved ones to return. He gave Giants teddy bears to children, unloaded supplies for first responders, handed out water bottles and coffee, signed helmets and posed for photos.
The grief, however, was overwhelming. Adults began to realize what frightened children in the firehouse had not yet realized: that their mommy or daddy would not be coming home.
“It’s one thing to see it on TV and hear about it and your heart breaks,” Whittle said, “but then to go to Ground Zero and see these heroes who have been there for days and haven’t slept and haven’t eaten… It’s hard to explain the level of destruction and despair.
“People understand how tall these buildings are, but they don’t understand that, blocks long, 30-story windows were just blown out by the compression. It was hard to see the smoke and the debris and these people looking for friends and family, it was hard to see with your own eyes.
“When you talk about heroism, a lot of those guys knew they were going into that building and probably not coming back. Whoa, that was pretty intense.”
For weeks, the Giants could see and smell the smoke still billowing from Manhattan from their training facility in the Meadowlands. Whittle appreciated that constant reminder.
Several of his teammates pulled out of a second Ground Zero support mission, too traumatized by the last visit. But Whittle returned. If he could provide even a brief distraction from the chaos and misery, and divert attention from sports demagoguery to those who truly deserved it, how could he not?
“Like most people,” Whittle said, “I think it was just a time to put things into perspective, to understand how fragile life is, how amazing life is, and how you can’t take it for granted, to make sure you’re living the life you’re happy with, instead of, ‘I wish I had.’ It was interesting to see New York — and really the whole country — come together.”
(Top photo of Jason Whittle: Paul Spinelli / AP Photo)
