Rosey Grier, the most famous Nittany Lion, lives to serve

The black Georgia farm boy just needed somewhere to start growing all of that potential, to direct the power of his character.

Penn State, of all places, turned out to be the perfect launching point to the most famous Nittany Lion ever.

Rosey Grier was fascinated by books and music, and by making others feel good about themselves. He wanted to be around those who wanted the same.

Football helped him get where he wanted to go.

Certainly enough, shaking peanuts and cutting sugar cane on his daddy's farm instilled a work ethic and helped him mature quickly. He was getting paid a dollar a day, just like the men, when he was 6 years old.

But Grier only had time for school three days a week. The cotton and the cane came first. What seemingly saved him was a family move to New Jersey a few years later.

He says he knew then that he would spend his life serving others.

He chose Penn State because it offered a track and field scholarship and wasn't too far from his new home. He tried to study music but became frustrated and dropped it. Instead, he simply sang his way into people's good graces. Even more, he showed a stunning potential in football where, at 240 pounds, he actually was larger than most everyone, which combined exquisitely with his quickness and agility.

Being forced to prove himself only fueled him more.

"They tried to test me. A young man, a center, hit me in the chin and I didn't like that very much," Grier said, remembering back to early Penn State practices. "So they couldn't run on my side no more because I wouldn't let them. Before the year was over, I was playing both ways."

Penn State football's grand pedigree was born in 1954

He gained confidence and began morphing into that magnetizing man who would time and again be surrounded by fame in the most unexpected ways, like a real-life Forrest Gump.

He would become the most eclectic achiever among the most stunning collection of Penn State football players in 1954.

It's impossible to neatly categorize his ever-shifting life and impact, never one to be the main attraction so much as to smoothly dance around its periphery.

As he grieves, Rosey Grier preaches on

Penn State is where he constructed that gentle giant aura with a dab of showbiz flair mixed with genuine country kindness. It made made him appeal to most everyone, to easily cut across racial, political and demographic lines.

"He was a big human being," teammate Lenny Moore said, "but just as nice and truthful as you could be."

Almost perfect, then, that Grier went on to star in the nation's two largest cities, first with the New York Giants and then the Los Angeles Rams. In L.A., he led the Fearsome Foursome, the most Hollywood-styled defensive lines, if not one of the best.

He was the ultimate pop culture chameleon, and always lovable. Did you hear about Rosey singing in Carnegie Hall one night, and with Marlo Thomas the next? Did you read his book on needlepoint? Do you remember how he was a trusted bodyguard, spokesman and good friend to the Kennedys? He was the one who wrestled the gun away from Bobby Kennedy's assassin, Sirhan Sirhan, and then calmly stuck it in his pants pocket.

He became an ordained minister and counseled gang members on the streets and O.J. Simpson in his jail cell. He stumped for Jimmy Carter and George Bush. He's worked the small screen and the big screen and even had his own variety show.

There was dinner with Ronald and Nancy Reagan, tennis with Arnold Schwarzenegger and politicking with Shirley MacLaine.

"I learned what it takes to survive, that you work hard and care about people. I always trust people first," he said. "I always trust people, but because I trust doesn't mean I didn't watch. I told the gang kids, 'I trust you.' I learned to trust people and I learned I could get around with anybody."

He just turned 84 and he's still singing and writing songs, "praising God music," as he calls it.

He's still led by football, too, making appearances to celebrate the Rams' return to Los Angeles.

Most importantly, he's still working for causes and helping others in his own way. He regularly makes business calls and attends meetings for the good of foundations fighting prostate cancer and epilepsy. He also helps with a program honoring teachers, which is how he sees himself along his most unusual path of life.

Roots of so much of everything now, he says, stretch back to those awakening days at Penn State.

"I know the foundation of my life is to serve."