Jeremiah Holloway

Published on June 24th, 2024 by Inside Carolina

CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — For a dedicated set of families and individuals, the third weekend of June gets circled on the calendar every year.

Parents are sure to be careful when scheduling a summer vacation. Supervisors at everyone’s respective jobs get notified well ahead of time. A trip to Chapel Hill for the Eric Montross Father’s Day Basketball Camp, developed in 1994 and first hosted in 1995, is of the utmost importance. For that one weekend every June, virtually everything else gets put on hold.

The camp — founded by and named after the starting center of UNC’s 1993 national championship team — didn’t fall on Father’s Day weekend this year, which rarely happens, but 191 participants and additional volunteers reserved the following Friday and Saturday far in advance.

In that regard, this year wasn’t unlike the others. Like always, kids aged 7-13 walked into the Smith Center with their dads while carrying a profound excitement to meet and learn from their favorite UNC basketball players, looking up with astonishment seeing the retired jerseys and championship banners hanging in the rafters. Proceeds from the camp once again went toward benefitting the UNC Children’s Hospital. The proceeds from this year’s camp went to the Be Loud! Sophie Foundation, an organization supporting those battling cancer.

But one detail in the 30-year anniversary of the camp couldn’t possibly go unnoticed: Montross himself was not in attendance.

Montross died in December 2023 after a nine-month battle with cancer at the age of 52, making this year’s camp the first one held thereafter. Montross and his family were away from the camp last year as he went through treatment as a safety precaution, but his wife, children, parents and others returned to carry on the long-standing tradition.

“It’s unbelievable, and I’m so proud,” Laura Montross, Eric’s wife, said. “Never did we think that it would just keep going.”

Though Montross wasn’t present inside the Smith Center over the weekend, his memory lived on through those that were. The children and their fathers were given white T-shirts with a life-size image of Montross’ size 19 heel print on the back. That heel print was also on the navy blue coaches shirts and the black volunteers shirts.

Some in attendance have been involved with the camp since its inception, either as a volunteer or a participant. For others, it was their first time there. No matter the duration of one’s involvement, the heart that Montross founded the camp resonated with all.

“I’m just delighted that the Montross family has decided to continue the tradition, because I think it’s still something important for the Children’s Hospital,” Wick Smith, a camp volunteer since the late 1990s, said. “And also for Carolina fans and fathers.”

The camp serves as a day-and-a-half training session for basketball skills and a fundraising opportunity, but it also resembles a family reunion. Those involved in the camp year after year get to see the children grow up as they continue on in the program, reminiscing on old times and catching up with each other. That possibility came about when two families began to merge into one in the fall of 1993.

Montross regularly visited pediatric cancer patients at the UNC Hospitals during his playing days at North Carolina. His height always left kids mesmerized, but it also served as a conversation starter whether they knew who he was or not. He’d walk in and get down on one knee as he approached them.

“He just had a natural ease about how he interacted with them,” Laura Montross said. “I think it’s such a gift to be able to do that in a hospital situation, where there are tensions that run high. There’s a lot of anxiety. Eric would walk into a room, and he brought joy to a situation that wasn’t always joyful.”

After Montross started making these visits, he began to hear about a 15-year-old named Jason Clark, an avid basketball fan who was in the midst of his own battle with cancer.

Montross knew Clark’s fifth-grade teacher, who told him about Clark. After learning about him, Montross made it a point to see him.

The 7-foot Montross walked into Clark’s room, leaning his head to the side so he could fit through the door. He told Clark that he’d been looking for him for weeks.

“We were both sitting there just totally silent,” Lindy Clark, Jason’s mother, said. “It was very shocking that this tall, kind, quiet man just walked into his life and was thrilled.”

Montross left his number for Clark after their first interaction. But after he left, he didn’t hear from Clark.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Montross asked him when he came back to visit three days later.

Montross encouraged Clark to give him a ring, making it clear that it wouldn’t bother him. The two kept consistent communication with each other from there, both in person and on the phone.

In getting to know Montross, the two often talked about basketball strategy, discussing the strengths and weaknesses of UNC’s opponents. During their time together, they also talked about different aspects of their own lives.

“They were, crazy enough, friends,” Lindy Clark said. “They just clicked. But Eric was like that. He was just kind and gentle. And he saw people.”

Clark passed away in February 1994, during Montross’ senior year of college. He’s remembered as a light-hearted kid who kept a smile on his face and liked to crack jokes.

After leaving North Carolina and getting drafted into the NBA, Montross started to piece together ideas for a basketball camp, inspired by his relationship with Clark. Lindy Clark visited then-newlyweds Eric and Laura Montross in Boston, where Eric was drafted to play for the Celtics, the summer before his rookie year. There, they discussed Montross’ plans.

Jason Clark had conversations with Montross about his experiences at basketball camps, noting how difficult it could be for the athletes and campers to have personal interactions with each other. Lines formed with hundreds of kids seeking to get an autograph or have a conversation with a player, but it was difficult to bond with them.

So, in brainstorming a roadmap for a camp, Montross harkened back to those discussions and prioritized from there. One of his initial goals was to raise $100,000 for Clark’s idea to create a space at the UNC Children’s Hospital for teenagers fighting cancer. That space — which later came to fruition and became known as the Jason Clark Teen Lounge and Game Room — would be free of nurses and doctors and simply a place where the patients could hang out.

A marketing specialist named Dot Sheehan, whom the Montross’ met in Boston, recommended the Father’s Day element of the camp to Eric, suggesting that fathers bring their children to the camp and raise money through that.

The Clark family, also instrumental in the camp’s creation and still a big part of its operation three decades running, grew even closer to the Montross family through the creation of the camp and have continued that bond since.

“Through the years, it’s become a friendship,” Laura Montross said. “Instead of thinking that we were so much younger, even though everything kind of evens out, it’s definitely become a friendship. And they’re very supportive of our family, particularly what we’ve gone through.”

Montross’ first official camp was held in 1995 on Father’s Day weekend. In the camp’s genesis, one of the biggest tasks was simply getting the word out. The core group of organizers made brochures and went around Franklin Street encouraging people to come out and support the mission.

It’s estimated that 50 people attended the inaugural camp in the Smith Center, but they remained persistent and kept hosting it every year. The camp maintained a high level of continuity, though, with the same families returning each year and many of the same volunteers staying involved to keep it running.

Some people with ties to the camp in year 30 were there for day one. Leah Tilden, a childhood friend of Clark, is in that number. She now brings her kids to the camp — including her son, Jason, who is named after Clark. Tilden remembers the camp in the early stages, helping it run smoothly while also reflecting on Clark’s memory through it.

“We did it all,” Tilden said. “We slept in Granville Towers with all the students, and did the stuff on the court, and came up here and served lunch, and then everybody would go cry somewhere in a corner.

“Over the years, there’s always those moments that still get really teary for me.”

Others began to support the camp within the first few years of its development and continue to do so. Bert Hensley, who became friends with Montross in college through mutual friends in Indiana, has helped place the campers into teams for the last 27 years. The kids are divided into 16 teams — this year, they were all named after the playoff teams from the 2024 NBA Playoffs and consisted of seven to eight players.

In getting to know Montross, Hensley saw how he made a point to stay involved in the community, doing what he could to impact those around him.

“There wasn’t really an ‘Eric in private’ and an ‘Eric in public,’” Hensley said. “He wasn’t vastly different to the public than he was to those close to him…​​ He was affable, kind, thoughtful. He remembered names. And he made you feel special when you spoke to him. It didn’t matter what your background was. That was our guy.”

Both the Montross’ and the Clarks work behind the scenes in the weeks leading up to the camp to ensure everything is in place. Laura Montross contacts the sponsors beforehand, and Sarah Montross, Eric’s daughter, makes sure the volunteers signed up to serve are in place. Andrew Montross, Eric’s son, now lives in Washington, D.C. and he completes any odd tasks that need to be done in the lead-up period.

The look and feel of the camp has been consistent over the years, with much of the scheduling and format staying the same. Some innovations have been made, though. After year one, Montross decided to add a nursing station — which is more often used for the fathers to get some Advil than it is for kids to get treated for a scratch on the arm. Every camper used to get trophies on the last day, but they now get medals. The dads used to run springs with the kids, but the physical toll on them has since died down.

Other aspects of the camp have stayed constant. Each year, a guest speaker will talk to the dads about fatherhood. Roy Williams, Hubert Davis, Bubba Cunningham and others have done so in years past, and Danny Green was the guest this year. While that’s going on, the kids participate in a draft-style combine in the Smith Center, complete with a 40-yard dash, agility drills and vertical leap measurements.

Montross’ devotion to the camp revealed itself through his interactions with the campers and volunteers. He made his rounds throughout the court inside the Smith Center, checking on the kids and giving them encouraging words about their play. He would sometimes give away his own memorabilia to the campers, like some of his game-worn shoes. He’d even treat the kids with a slam dunk on occasion when there was a break in the action.

In hosting the camp, Montross kept a hands-on approach. Talk to any returning volunteer or parent of a camper about the time they’ve spent at the camp, and they’ll share memories of their interactions with Montross.

Montross also encouraged the students to find their own ways to give back, like collecting coins to donate throughout the year.

“If he was going to do this camp, one thing that it had to be was very personal for each person and each family,” Andrew Montross said. “And so he was able to meet almost every person at camp before the camp even started.”

Players on UNC’s men’s and women’s basketball teams contribute as coaches every year, and some of Montross’ former teammates and other former North Carolina players also help coach. In between drills and games, campers take pictures and receive autographs from the Tar Heels.

Montross’ camp is one that the athletes tend to get the most excited about helping out.

“I think that coaches on both the men’s and women’s team really like the idea of their players coming to camp,” Sarah Montross said. “Sure, it’s a basketball camp, but it is very different in that its root is in philanthropy. I think that helps instill some of those values in the players, which I think is super important. That’s what happened to our dad, and I think that’s another key piece of it.”

The sheer zeal produced from simply being in the building is pervasive, which keeps many of the volunteers and participants wanting to come back. The word spread after each camp, raising interest to the point of creating an extensive waitlist.

Some spend years on the waitlist, and a few parents even place their kids on the waitlist just days after their birth.

Madison Cohn was one of those campers, as her dad signed her up before she knew how to walk. Seven years later, she and her dad were the first people in line to check in. Cohn was a camp participant every year after that until she aged out, and she has returned each year to volunteer.

Her younger brother later became a consistent participant as well, joining three years ago.

“I was tiny, like really tiny then,” Cohn said when thinking about her first time at the camp. “Eric was just so much taller than me. I remember he took off his shoes so I could slide them on. He was just trying to make the experience really cool because it was my first time there, and he knew it.”

Cohn is one of many former campers that returns to serve in volunteer roles. Over the weekend, volunteers did everything from greeting people at the check-in, taking photos and keeping the score during the games. Some people will even sign up to volunteer as, what Laura Montross calls, a surrogate dad for any camper that doesn’t have a father present. Andrew Montross has taken on that role for a number of years.

The only two years the camp didn’t meet was in 2020 and 2021 due to the COVID-19 outbreak, but they continued to raise money for the UNC Hospitals during those years.

In March 2023, Montross was diagnosed with cancer. When he stepped away to go through treatment, Tyler Zeller stepped into his role as emcee.

Zeller got to know Montross some while still in college. When Zeller was drafted to the NBA in 2012, Montross helped guide him through the early stages of his career. He told Zeller what to expect from the NBA lifestyle early on, beyond the on-court factors. After Zeller’s playing career at UNC, he got to know Montross and his family even more.

Zeller took part in Montross’ camp as a coach during his playing days and saw for himself that it was a unique experience. So, coincidentally, he became the seven-foot substitute to serve as the camp’s emcee years later.

“It’s their 30th year running the camp, so it makes my job pretty easy,” Zeller said. “They’ve got everything scripted out, and they do a great job of making it fun. Making it about basketball, but more about being together and having fun and giving dads and sons or dads and daughters something to do at home and work and build their game.

“I think that’s one of the cooler parts; you’re trying to give that time to those parents and be able to let them grow and be with their kids, and step away from a world that can be so chaotic and just have a moment to enjoy time with their family.”

Montross’ passing in December shook up the UNC community. North Carolina played its first home men’s basketball game 12 days after his death. After a pregame moment of silence, a heartfelt ovation from the UNC crowd followed.

The Montross family sat down in early 2024 to discuss the prospect of continuing the camp, and the decision to keep it going was made relatively quickly. Since Montross wasn’t there in 2023, they had a framework for what the camp could look like without him. They also felt supported by Hubert Davis and Pat Sullivan, both former Montross teammates at North Carolina, and others in the UNC basketball program to continue hosting the camp.

But beyond the logistics, seeing the camp through for another year was something they wanted to do.

“It would have been easy to say, ‘Maybe we’ll skip a year and get on track next year,’” Andrew Montross said. “But going through that hospital system, you see not just cancer patients, but a lot of other people and hear their stories that need something. Whether it be a mural on the wall or a teen lounge, you get to hear a bunch of different things that this camp can help the hospital make better for its patients. So that was just something that was really hard to pass up.”

With that, the Montross family returned to the camp. Montross’ parents, Scott and Janice, were in attendance. Janice Montross considered it “heartwarming” to see her son’s legacy carry on.

Most of the kids still have a natural innocence when participating in the camp, but for the older attendees, memories of Montross and the weight of his absence are ever present. Some still look out onto the court and envision Montross walking around and talking to kids like he used to do every year.

On the second day of camp, fathers and their children are always given reversible basketball jerseys with Montross’ name and No. 00 on the back for the scrimmages. It’s another camp custom, but seeing Montross’ name around the court held a new level of significance this year.

The camp always ends with an awards ceremony. There, it was announced that the Be Loud! Sophie Foundation reached its fundraising goal of $2.5 million through camp proceeds, a milestone met with delightful applause.

“For me personally, it kind of feels like a full circle deal,” Laura Montross said. “It’s so ironic to me that Eric spent his life being a champion for adolescents and young adults with cancer. And then, for him to receive his diagnosis, it really sharpened his lens of how hard that is. And if it was that hard for a 52-year-old going through that, just how difficult that is for young people and their families. So the 30th year for me is a crazy full circle.”

Two months before Jason Clark passed away, a friend of his brought a three-to-four-foot tall red helium balloon from Balloons & Tunes to his hospital room. With it came a basket of gum and candy, and the balloon remained in the room until he died. Clark wanted to release the balloon outside but couldn’t, so Eric and Laura Montross came and did so for him.

So, at the end of every camp, when the participants depart, an intimate group gathers on the concourse of the Smith Center and signs a large red helium balloon, with messages like “I love you” and “I miss you” directed to Clark. The group then goes outside to release it into the sky.

This year, volunteers, friends and family members of Montross and Clark followed the same model. After concluding the awards ceremony in UNC’s practice gym — and taking about 25 minutes to chat with those in attendance — they made their way upstairs to the concourse.

The helium balloon was inside, ready to be signed. This time, notes were written for both Clark and Montross.

Everyone gathered outside in a circle, with Lindy Clark bringing the balloon to the middle. After addressing the emotional crowd, she handed the balloon to Laura, Andrew and Sarah Montross, who released it into the sky. The balloon took a slight bounce off the building before continuing its ascension.

Through the camp, Montross’ and Clark’s legacies live on. And 30 years later, the tradition continues.

“Next year, we’ll do it again,” Lindy Clark proclaimed to the rest of the circle.

“31,” someone boldly stated in response.