How 5 persistent women were able to restore the Lady Vols name, logo

Dan Fleser
Knoxville

The message came to Raubyn Branton seemingly out of nowhere via Facebook.

The communication was from someone named Mollie, and it was something about her heading to a Kroger in Knoxville on a Sunday afternoon in November of 2014. She was going there to collect signatures for a petition urging the University of Tennessee to reverse its decision to drop the Lady Vols name and logo the following year for all women’s sports except basketball.

"Save Lady Vols" supporters, clockwise from left, Susan Whitlow, Mollie DeLozier, Raubyn Branton, Donna Branton and Jean Lusardi pose for a photo with a ceremonial chair at Pat Summitt's memorial service in July 2016.

Branton’s first thought was, “Who is Mollie?”

“This woman is crazier than I am,” Branton remembered thinking, “but it’s a good crazy.”

More:Lady Vols battle should be a lesson to the University of Tennessee

More:University of Tennessee announces return of Lady Vols logo for all sports

And so a friendship started. An army began forming as well — one that was small in numbers but large in resolve. Mollie DeLozier, a former UT swimmer, was joining forces with Branton, a senior CAD specialist for an architect in Morristown, and her sister, Donna. Through social media, Susan Whitlow and Jean Lusardi — two retired schoolteachers who are married and live in Bristol, Tenn. — filled out the ranks.

They came together and pooled their actions, outraged that the university was discarding the long-standing women’s collegiate brand. These five women also were sustained by a love for the late Pat Summitt and a belief that the university’s decision was an affront to her coaching legacy.

The game plan to save the Lady Vols 

During the ensuing three years, they gathered the majority of the 32,688 petition signatures that were collected in person. They created “Save Lady Vols” T-shirts and signs and helped stage public rallies.

They went to Nashville to meet with state legislators, and they lobbied the university’s board of trustees during their annual meetings. They contacted other UT administrators by phone or email.

They raised money to place ads in the Knoxville News Sentinel and hired someone to organize a press conference.

They painted “The Rock,” the iconic campus landmark, several times.

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These five women were crazy mad, crazy stubborn, crazy determined and, above all, crazy persistent.

They stayed their long, rough course until last month, when Tennessee first-year athletic director John Currie announced that the name and logo were being returned to all women’s sports.

Roger Kane, a state representative for the 89th District, attended a rally at Pat Summitt Plaza in December of 2014 that DeLozier and Raubyn Branton organized. All five women met face to face for the first time there. He described their work as “invaluable” and added, “If any praise is to be sought in the efforts to reinstate this valuable brand, it goes to these women and their undying love for the Lady Vols program.”

'Motley crew' didn’t always agree

In banding together, Raubyn Branton joked that she and the other four women had convened “a motley crew.” In all seriousness, forming a team required them to bridge some potentially significant emotional differences.

“I wanted blood,” she said. “Susan wanted half the blood I wanted. Donna wanted half of what Susan wanted. Jean and Mollie didn’t want blood.”

DeLozier said they communicated regularly and always managed to mediate a strategy.

“We didn’t always agree on things,” she said. “But the things we didn’t agree on, we talked it out and came to a point of consensus.

“What our focus needs to be is what we talked about. Is that something that will help us or is it something where we’re wasting our energy? It was those kinds of discussions.”  

In so doing, they sorted out roles that fit their skills and different temperaments.

DeLozier became the spokesperson because she was adept at discussing issues forcefully without seeming belligerent.

Save Lady Vols co-organizer Mollie DeLozier speaks during a press conference at the Pat Summitt statue on the UT campus to press for the return of the Lady Vols logo in Knoxville on Sept. 8, 2017.

Whitlow and Lusardi largely were the keepers of the petition. They were suited for the undertaking, which literally tallied the support for their cause. Furthermore, they preferred the relative anonymity involved.

The Brantons were the equivalent of versatile utility players. Raubyn was ahead of the other four on the issue. She had heard rumors about the possibility of UT’s decision as early as 2012 and started a petition. She backed off then when Donna Thomas, a senior associate athletics director, assured her in an email dated Nov. 28, 2012, that “there is no plan to change anything related to the Lady Vol logo — this includes merchandise bearing the logo.”

"Save Lady Vols" supporters, from left, Jean Lusardi, Mollie DeLozier, Susan Whitlow, Donna Branton and Raubyn Branton pose for photo at the premiere of a Pat Summitt documentary at the Bijou Theatre in Knoxville last month.

A devotion to Summitt and the need to outlast Hart 

Within the group, Raubyn Branton was the most ardent critic of former Tennessee athletic director Dave Hart, who announced the university’s rebranding decision in November of 2014 and steadfastly championed it. After the announcement, Raubyn Branton created a website regarding their cause and maintained a Facebook page. She urged Whitlow to join Facebook because “that’s where the action is.” The group communicated regularly through the forum.

Donna Branton’s contributions, among other things, ranged from buying a bull horn on eBay that was used at their rallies to putting together small bags of candy to hand out to the legislators in Nashville.

They all worked on the petition.

“It was a natural unfolding,” Whitlow said. “Everybody worked on everything.”

A protester carries a sign showing his displeasure with UT athletic director Dave Hart during a rally to bring the Lady Vols brand and logo back to UT women's athletics Dec. 20, 2014, at Pat Summit Plaza.

No discussion was necessary to agree that they weren’t going to give up. They were driven by their devotion to Summitt and, as DeLozier said, their belief that “reinstating (the name and logo for all women’s sports) was the right thing to do. So we were on the right side of it.”

They also concurred that it didn’t matter how long the process played out. They accepted the need to outlast Hart and hoped that a regime change would bring a fresh outlook.

Hart announced in August of 2016 he would step down as AD. The news came two months after Jimmy Cheek announced he was resigning.

More:  Hart's announcement gives 'possibilities' to those wanting Lady Vols nickname back

A leadership change was in place. Beverly Davenport was hired as chancellor in February, and two months later Currie, who was at UT when all women's teams were Lady Vols, was in charge of athletics.

Lusardi compared the vigil to her teaching career and withstanding the progression of principals. They came and went. In her opinion, some were good, some weren’t. Regardless, she endured.

“I can do this until they restore the name or I die,” Whitlow said, “whatever comes first.”

After battle for logo, now 'bonded for life'

Whitlow was sitting at her computer on Sept. 14 when Currie announced the Lady Vols’ restoration plan. She was typing the cover letter she always sent to UT President Joe DiPietro and other university officials along with the latest batch of petition signatures, which went regularly to DiPietro’s office. After being alerted about the announcement, she stopped writing and started listening.

It’s telling, though, that she eventually finished the letter and sent the final batch of petition signatures two weeks ago.

“My reaction has been slow, more of a coming to believe,” Whitlow said.

Raubyn Branton is slower yet, saying she’s still wary of the university’s intentions. She’s hopeful of someday seeing a Lady Vols logo on Pat Summitt Plaza. Her UT diploma, which hung on her office wall, sits on the floor, largely out of sight.

“I’m still very cautious,” she said. “It’s tarnished. I believe it’s not whole like it was.”

Her sister’s reaction, on the other hand, took stock in contesting both the university and public opinion and prevailing. 

“We were told by people in the public: It’s never going to happen, it’s never going to happen,” Donna Branton said. “That didn’t bother me in the least. If that’s your opinion, you’re going to sit down and let things happen that aren’t OK. We weren’t going to have that.”

The final and most lasting consensus among the five women is that through the experience they’ve become dear friends. They message each other regularly and in June attended a Gladys Knight concert together.

Whitlow said the relationships that have been formed have made UT’s “cruddy” original decision almost seem palatable. Almost.

Said Raubyn Branton: “We’re bonded for life. I’d go to war with any of them. … We did.”