When the Chronicle hired me in 1976 to cover the original Houston Aeros, I knew nothing about hockey.

Growing up in Waco, the only thing I knew about ice was tea.

But I did know one thing before I arrived in Houston: The Chronicle was offering me an incredible opportunity to cover what was still one of the greatest stories in sports history.

Gordie Howe, Mr. Hockey, had come out of retirement after playing 25 years with the Detroit Red Wings to join his sons, Mark and Marty, in Houston.

When the Howes arrived in 1973, the story was so amazing it transcended sports and captured the attention of mainstream media.

Gordie, who helped Detroit earn its nickname of Hockeytown, was considered as the great hockey player in history.

It's a sad day for the sports world in general and the hockey world in particular because Gordie Howe touched so many.

Gordie was 45 when the Aeros lured him from a boring front office job with the Red Wings to team with Mark (18) and Marty (19). They helped the Aeros win the Avco Trophy – symbolic of the World Hockey Association champions -- in their first two seasons.

By the time I got here, the Howes were playing in their fourth season with the Aeros. And it turned out to be their last after they lost in the finals to Winnipeg for a second consecutive season.

Back then, the Aeros were so big in Houston they outdrew the Rockets, who played a few home games in Waco and San Antonio to help create a fan base.

In 1975, the Aeros and Rockets moved into The Summit, which later became Compaq Center and is now Lakewood Church.

That season, Gordie was 48 and scored 106 points, leading the Aeros to the WHA finals for a third consecutive year.

I'll never forget my first day on the job, Oct. 18, 1976. I was 23, had a degree from Baylor and three years of experience covering sports at the Waco Tribune-Herald.

But I'd never interviewed anybody famous other than Grant Teaff and a few lesser-known Cowboys who came to Waco for autograph sessions. I'd been on one plane, a flight from Waco to Odessa. A few days after my first hockey game, we were off to Canada and a road trip that included multiple stops around the U.S.

Jerry Trupiano, sports director at KTRH and the voice of the Aeros, also served as the Aeros' traveling secretary, which meant he was in charge of seat assignments on our flights.

Gordie always sat in an aisle seat, working crossword puzzles from newspapers, with his glasses pushed to the tip of his nose.

I was scared of flying, and turbulence freaked me out.

I always asked Trupiano for an aisle seat that was a row or two in front of Gordie and on the opposite side. When the plane hit turbulence, I just knew we were going down, but I'd look at Gordie. Seeing him continue with his crossword puzzles without a worry in the world always put me at ease.

Once, on a flight out of Montreal, we hit horrible turbulence. People were screaming as we started to drop. I didn't panic, though. I knew as soon as I turned to look at Gordie, he'd still be doing his crossword puzzles, and I'd be able to relax.

This time, though, I turned, and Gordie was squeezing the armrests so hard I thought his forearms would burst. His head was tilted up. His eyes were shut tight, and I could see his lips moving. And when I realized he was praying, I just knew I was going to die.

But here I am, 41 years later, writing this column about the death of a great man who inspired me to be the sportswriter I am today.

Dale Robertson beat me to the Aeros beat by a year. He was 23 when he met Howe in 1975. Like me, he knew nothing about hockey. In El Paso, where he grew up, the only thing he knew about ice was water.

Dale told me a story about his first road trip with the Aeros. They had to spend a few days in Toronto. Gordie, being the friendly, helpful sort, told Dale he'd be happy to teach him about hockey if he could take the time to meet him for lunch at the hotel every day that week.

"What a privilege to learn hockey from Mr. Hockey," Robertson said. "I thought at the time, 'This is like learning baseball from Babe Ruth.'"

Dale and I were captivated by Gordie Howe – a nice man with tanned skin, a warm smile and thinning gray hair. We knew we were around greatness. He was the first superstar we had the honor of covering, and he was old enough to be our father.

Nobody described Mr. Hockey as being nice on the ice. Through the decades, his rock-hard elbows had caused a lot of damage to opposing players.

I'm so sad to learn that Gordie Howe has died. He was a national treasure in two countries. He'll be missed by many, especially by those who were privileged to watch him behind the scenes as well as on the ice.