Slideshow image

This is an unusual set of posts for us – trainer and coach Marcus Santi shares in two posts his memories of the effervescent Eliza Fletcher. Eliza, 34, was running near the University of Memphis campus around 4:30 a.m. on Sept. 2 when she was abducted and killed, allegedly at the hands of a stranger. At her memorial service, Tennessee teacher and mother Eliza Fletcher, was honored for "bringing light to this day and the world." Hundreds, if not thousands of people, gathered in the pre-dawn hours of Friday, Sept. 9 to finish Fletcher’s run after it was tragically cut short. 

I was blessed to train one of the most unique individuals in this entire world. Eliza Wellford (Fletcher) I trained for 7 years. Here’s something I wrote in the middle of a night. 

I can remember the very first time I ever met Eliza White Wellford; she had a tennis racket in her hand. Her mother, Adele, approached me and asked if I would be interested in training her daughter. She introduced me to Liza. 

Liza then proceeded to start climbing up my leg, my back, and eventually sat on top of my shoulders. Adele, as we continued our discussion about training her child, who was now sitting on top of my head, began to laugh and said “I don’t know what has gotten into my child, she has never done this before. I feel like I should apologize. You probably think I am a horrible parent.” I laughed and said to her “no, I don’t, it’s alright.” And it was. For some reason animals and kids can recognize one of their own. I had yet to grow up and it is still questionable if I have yet. 

She was 9. 

Races 

I remember one of the very first races I ever prepared Liza for. It was a simple race. We had done a training session at the University of Memphis and 2 boys, who were 2 years older than Liza, were running on the track. They came over and asked if she wanted to race. 

Liza, never holding her thoughts in her mouth or body, quickly looked at me. I knew the look. I asked the little boy “how far you want to race? 200m?” I knew the further the distance the better chance Liza would have. He scratched his head. I bartered yet again “Well, how about 150m?” I pointed to the start line, and he scratched his head again. “How far is that line to this line?” “Oh, you want to run 100m?” “Yeah…yeah that is what I want to run.” 

I knew she was really good at the longer sprints, but I guess we were about to find out if she can sprint the short distance. The 2 boys and Liza go down to the starting line. I give her a few reminders on how to have her feet and bring the hips forward over the big toe and pump your arms when you hear “go”. On the way to the starting line she is talking their ears off. 

They are at the starting line. “Set……GO!” I honestly had no idea how this was going to turn out. Liza jumps off that line so fast and by the 30-meter mark one of the boys stopped because he was doubled over with laughter. Liza had an 8-yard lead on the kid and the race was just getting started. She beat the pants off the remaining competitor. As he got to the finish line and turned to leave, he just kept looking back at Liza and scratching his head. He had no idea what just happened. His friend comes up still laughing, pointing his finger at him with tears of laughter coming down his face. 

As I watched her compete; there was something in her that was very rare. Something I started to recognize that maybe even I didn’t have. 

She was 11. 

I remember her second 300m hurdle race she ever ran. We were at the Regional Championships and she was in 8th grade. We were allowed to move her up to varsity track. The defending champion and Regional record holder was in the race along with a senior laden field. 

Liza comes over to me “Marcus, I’m scared. Do you think I’ll win?” I looked her square in the eyes “Liza, no matter what happens in this race your mom and dad are still going to love you and I will not think any different of you. I’m proud of you. Just give it your best.” This huge, huge grin came across her face. The one we all know. She not only won the race by 20 yards, she broke the Regional record by over 2 seconds and set a school record. 

She was 14. 

She eventually went on to run the race in 44 seconds. 

I ran in to her in 2019. Oak Hall. “HI Marcus.” “HI Liza, how have you been?” “I live under a rock. I have 2 kids. Have no idea what is going on. I just raise kids.” “Well, I’m sure you’re doing a great job.” “I try.” 

She goes about her shopping. I go about my shopping. 

I had to tell her something, it was important to me that she knows: “Hey Liza, I want you to know something. Those records that you set at Hutchison. they’ll never be broken. When your kids go to school, when your grandkids go to school and you walk through that gym. You’ll see your name on the record board. The only way you won’t is if they take it down because it was unbreakable. Through our rights and through our wrongs we did a lot of good…. We did a lot of things right…. Hey Liza…..” “Yeah, Marcus?” “You were the best. Out of all the female athletes I ever trained, you were the best.” 

She was 31. 

People like her, we run races. We prepare for races. Anything less than our best is unacceptable. We have something on our insides that causes us to get up at 4 in the morning to go for a run because we must. Maybe we are working something out on our insides. Some pain and we learned to use this pain to propel us in a positive direction instead of allowing it to eat us from the inside out. We take control and we find the joy in what others may find painful.

We run races. 

I’m left in a place where faith is tested. I either lose faith and I can’t begin to explain where and what I would do. Or I keep my faith. I’m not going to try to understand what and why, it will not serve me well in this race I am running. 

What I know is I have a little more pain. I don’t know what race I will use it for, but all I know is just like Eliza White Wellford, I will use it for good…I hope. 

Liza’s race here on earth is over. Our faith tells us she is in a place where there is no more pain. 

She is in a place where there are no more races. She was 34.

Marcus Santi 

author of Journey of the Son, available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Abebooks and Books–A-Million