University of Minnesota Alumni Association
 
Carl Eller Takes a Stand
By Rick Moore
Carl Eller was a force to be reckoned with on the football field. A former Gopher all-American and a member of the Minnesota Vikings' legendary Purple People Eaters defense in their steam-puffing Met Stadium heyday, Eller was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame a year ago. But what he's doing today for his community may have a more lasting impact than any ferocious tackle.

The six-time all-pro has used his high profile to combat drug addiction and health-care disparities for more than 25 years. More recently, he's begun speaking out about diverting young African American males from the destructive paths many are on. Eller is creating a nonprofit foundation to promote education and community service in the North Minneapolis neighborhood where he's lived for more than 30 years. “The big thing is to change their own attitudes about education, about citizenship, and about their future-their communities' future-and the role they're going to play,” Eller says. “We need to develop leaders out of this population.”

Decades removed from his playing career, Eller's 6-foot-6 frame and deep voice still announce his presence. But behind that exterior is a soft-spoken and reflective man eager to talk about his convictions. He's lived his convictions since tackling his own substance abuse problems; he's been successfully recovering since 1981, a few years after retiring from football.

He worked with the National Football League to develop its first employee assistance program, which included help for drug and alcohol abuse, and gave frequent talks at schools on the subject. In 1986, Eller, a licensed alcohol and drug counselor, founded a group of substance-abuse clinics in the Twin Cities called Triumph Life Centers. He zealously followed his patients' quest for sobriety, and his son Regis, introducing him at the Hall of Fame ceremony, recalled that his father was devastated whenever a client left the program prematurely: “He would never give up, and he relentlessly attempted to get that client back into the program as if fighting for his own sobriety.”

In the mid-1990s, Eller shifted his focus to other endeavors. After a brief stint with the United Way, he began working for the Minnesota Department of Human Services to help address health differences between white people and people of color. His role, he says, was “to bring awareness to the community about those gaps, how to close them, and bring some resources to the community for those problems.”

Community is a word that crops up frequently when talking with Eller, and his sense of community has defined him since he moved to the Twin Cities from North Carolina to attend the University of Minnesota. He is sometimes seen at campus events and recently met with University President Bob Bruininks about strategies to improve diversity on campus. And he loves living in North Minneapolis. “The diverse mix of people have really bonded over the years and have a real sincere interest and concern over the neighborhood,” he says.

But Eller also is attuned to the “downside” of his community-the drugs and violence, especially involving African Americans. And that led him to use the greatest stage in his life, his Hall of Fame induction speech, to try to make a difference: “I want to use this platform to help young African American males to participate fully in this society,” Eller said from the podium. “I know that we must give young African American men a message that will lead them in the direction differently from where many of them are headed today. I want that direction to be . . . towards the great universities and colleges of our nation, not to the prisons and jail cells.”

Reflecting on his enshrinement speech, Eller says, “It was more than just an award for me, but also a chance to do something for those causes I'm interested in.”

His father died when Eller was young, and, he admits, he was angry and headed for trouble. Football gave Eller an outlet and a focus on something outside himself. He hopes to provide something similar for today's young men in North Minneapolis. He is developing the Carl Eller Foundation to help young African American males focus on academics, graduate from high school, and start thinking of attending college. (Eller finished his own college degree in human services at Metropolitan State University in 1994.) Working with colleagues including Oscar Reed, another former Viking, Eller is mentoring a pilot group of about 25 kids-a number he hopes will grow to as many as 500. He also believes in having disenfranchised youth serve their own communities. “Typically, they think of themselves as the victims,” Eller says. “But we want them also to think of others. There are always people less fortunate than you.”

Regis Eller, in his Hall of Fame introduction, recalled that his father spoke of and modeled the importance of community service. “[M]y dad always tried to use his fame to effect meaningful change,” he said. “His work and care for people within his community is undoubtedly one of his life's works.”



Stadium Memories
Stadium Memories
Add Carl Eller to the thousands of Gopher alumni who eagerly await a return to outdoor, on-campus football. “One of the things I liked [about the University] was that football was on campus,” says Eller, who attended the April announcement of a stadium deal with TCF Bank to show his support for the effort.

Eller arrived at the University when freshmen weren't allowed to play in games. As he watched the action from the Memorial Stadium stands that first year, he thought, “Next year, I'm going to be out there and this is going to be great.”

Although Eller went on to be named first-team all-Big Ten in 1961 and 1963, and all-American in 1963, he wasn't so fond of the stadium's role in his training. Eller recalls that as part of their conditioning, coach Murray Warmath routinely made the players run up and down the stairs of all 60 or so aisles, from field level to the very top. -R.M.