YULEE, Fla. -- They waited an entire week before telling him.

Derrick Henry was devastated when he finally learned his grandmother was in the hospital, but it broke his heart that his family didn't let him know earlier. Henry's father and aunts thought Gladys Henry would only be in the hospital for a few days. She was always so strong.

But one week rolled into two and one complication turned into another.

Gladys, the rock of a proud and tight-knit family for so long, weakened quickly -- first fluid on her lungs and then her heart. She has been hospitalized going on eight weeks now, and the tracheostomy tube needed to stabilize her breathing has robbed Gladys of her ability to speak.

All of those incredible fourth-quarter drives by her grandson, and Gladys hasn't been able to cheer with her voice or share her pride over the phone. Derrick calls or texts every day and asks about his grandmother.

Alabama's junior running back, the heart-pumping core of the Crimson Tide, will be in the pulsating center of New York City on Saturday for the Heisman Trophy ceremony, but that huge and caring heart of his will be in a hospital room far away.

The woman who raised arguably the greatest rusher in the history of Alabama football can't attend her grandson's iconic ceremony.

Derrick loves his grandmother so much that it physically pains him to know she can't travel to New York, say those closest to the warm-hearted football player.

"My mom has always been so caring and giving of herself, and that boy is a real caring child," said Valerie Henry, the 13th of Gladys' 14 children. "It's like if something happens in the family, he feels it or something. If someone gets sick, he gets sick and starts running a temperature."

The Henry family delayed breaking the news to Derrick about his grandmother's condition because they thought it would affect his performance on the field. Perhaps it did, but in a positive way.

Henry goes to New York on Friday the national leader in rushing yards (1,986) and rushing touchdowns (23) and the new Southeastern Conference record holder for rushing yards in a season.

Still, amid so many grueling carries and hard hits on the field, much of this season has been just as taxing emotionally for Derrick Henry off of it, says Valerie Henry. The bond between Derrick and his grandmother is something closer than maybe even his relationship with his own parents, who both have been important figures in his life and are attending the Heisman ceremony.

But Stacy Veal was 15 when she gave birth to Derrick, and Derrick Henry, Sr., was barely old enough to drive a car.

Being so young, the couple turned to Gladys to raise their son. She did, and with a love and kindness that now defines everything about her grandson's character.

So many people have had a hand in shaping the young man who will represent the University of Alabama on Saturday, but beyond the football field, Derrick Henry is most like his grandmother -- compassionate, giving, loyal and proud of the small community where he grew up.

"Grandmomma" Gladys wouldn't have it any other way. Her grandson's success now stands as one of the finest achievements of her beautiful life.

"By the grace of God and his grandma, he's the man he is today," said Keith White, a second cousin who at 6-6, 370 pounds was Derrick's left tackle for two years at Yulee High School. "She worked until she couldn't work no more, and that's what she instilled into Derrick.

"Didn't nobody give them nothing."

Gladys won't be in New York this weekend, but in a way she was with Derrick every time he took a handoff. It was Gladys who wanted him to wear No. 2. For her, that number represents everything.

God is first, Gladys taught Derrick, and family is second.

Then comes Yulee.

Derrick Henry was raised by his grandmother, Gladys Henry, and grandfather, Benjamin Henry. Other family members helped, including Derrick Henry's parents, but the running back shares a strong bond with his "Grandmomma."

COUNTRY ROADS

The place Derrick Henry calls his hometown isn't really a town at all. There's no mayor; no city council. It's just rural Nassau County.

The far-reaching tendrils of suburban Jacksonville sprawl have finally made their way up to the northeast Florida forest where the Henry family has lived for generations, but the busy county roads under construction there now were not part of the place Derrick Henry remembers from his childhood.

Only a few years ago, Yulee, was just an unincorporated place in the woods between a barrier island to the east and a big swamp to the west. For many years, it was an old logging community and Senator David Levy Yulee's first westbound stop on his Florida Railroad.

Culturally, the inland residents of Nassau County say they identify more closely with rural south Georgia than the developments creeping northward from Jacksonville. The easy life of nearby Amelia Island and Fernandina Beach seems like a different world.

The large tattoo on the right forearm of Derrick Henry Sr. says it all: "COUNTRY."

"I like small towns," says Derrick Henry Sr., "and Shocka does, too."

It was Gladys who nicknamed an infant Derrick, Jr., "Shocka" because she was shocked when her 16-year-old son, the youngest of her 14 children, came home one day and told her he was going to be a father. Gladys was 60, and would have only a few more years with her husband. Benjamin Henry passed away when Derrick Jr. was 6.

They're putting down a lot of blacktop in Yulee these days, but the dirt road where Alabama's 6-3, 242-pound running back learned how to ride a bike and run from the occasional neighborhood dog is still that familiar north Florida mixture of black soil and white sand.

It's good for two things: soaking up water and growing pine trees.

Henry was four months old when he began living with his two grandparents. It was there on unpaved Kutana Drive that Henry spent most of his childhood. He was surrounded by relatives at all times. At the center of the family was Gladys, the Henry family's now 81-year-old matriarch, and Benjamin, the hard-working grandfather.

Their legacy includes 14 children, 26 grandchildren, 26 great grandchildren and two great-great grandchildren. Gladys worked for more than 50 years before retiring as an executive housekeeper for Holiday Inn. Benjamin was a career logger.

Growing up, Derrick loved Gladys' oxtail stew, but loved even more pretending to be former WWE star "Stone Cold" Steve Austin during wrestling matches with his grandfather. Gladys tried to be the disciplinarian, but Benjamin just spoiled his grandson.

"Basically everywhere my dad went, Shocka was with him," said Gladys Jones, one of Derrick's aunts and the 10th of Grandmomma Gladys' children. "Pee-Wee football, the store, he used to pull him up and down the road in a little wagon."

Last month, Gladys Jones drove to Tuscaloosa before the Georgia Southern game to prepare a home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner for her nephew. Team policy dictates that players cannot travel more than 100 miles away from campus for Thanksgiving, so Derrick couldn't attend his family's annual feast at the Johnson's house.

Derrick missed out on Rose Johnson's homemade seafood salad this year, but his aunt prepared more than enough ham, collards, macaroni, potato salad, yams, cornbread and rice to make her nephew feel at home. He couldn't stop thinking about his grandmother, though.

Earlier in November, Henry traveled home to visit Gladys in the hospital for the first time.

He was scared to enter the room.

Unable to speak, Grandmomma Gladys could only write down how happy she was to see her grandson. It was an emotional visit.

"When he saw her, and she was writing things, he told me that seeing Grandmomma made him feel better," said aunt Latrease Terry, the 12th of Gladys' children. "The whole time, he thought her condition was worse than what we were telling him."

Gladys has responded well to her treatment over the last month and is recovering, but slowly. She still can't speak. One of her most recent written messages: "Has Shocka got the trophy yet?"

Family will join Gladys in her hospital room on Saturday to watch the Heisman ceremony. In and around Yulee, where many people credit Derrick's success on the field for bringing the community together, every television might be tuned to the announcement. Henry would be just the second player in the history of Alabama football to win the Heisman, the first being Mark Ingram in 2009.

That fact isn't lost on a couple of Derrick's fiercely loyal high school friends.

Gladys Henry has 14 children and worked for more than 50 years. She retired as an executive housekeeper for Holiday Inn. Benjamin Henry was a logger for a local paper mill his entire life. He passed away when Derrick Henry was six years old. His grandparents raised him for much of his childhood.

OFFICE FLOWERS

Derrick Henry was an early enrollee at Alabama in the spring of 2013, which means he was injured when he returned home from Tuscaloosa to participate in his high school graduation.

Henry broke a bone in his leg during that first spring scrimmage. He recovered quite well from that injury, but at the time it was a problem. Ever try to carry a dozen roses and a stuffed animal through the front doors of a high school while on crutches?

It isn't easy, even for one of the best ball carriers in the history of college football.

Of all the stories floating around Nassau County about Derrick's uncommon kindness and caring personality, the one about the office flowers might best crystallize what kind of person will represent Yulee on Saturday. Yes, Derrick is a great football player, but he might be a better gift giver.

Henry was Yulee High School's third period office aide during the fall semester of his senior year. Visitors to the front office were greeted by Henry's big smile and long hair (which Grandmomma Gladys has always wanted him to cut).

High school offices can be sterile and uninviting things, but the front-office culture at Yulee is down-home country thanks to two of its full-time employees, Gina Powell, the front-desk receptionist, and Carol Rose, the principal's bookkeeper.

Friday isn't casual day in the front office of Yulee High School. Friday is "camo day," says Rose, whose Southern accent is so thick that one-syllable words like "our" stretch into two.

Rose and Powell are married to a couple of outdoorsmen. Rose's husband is an angler, and Powell's husband, a hunter, is a skilled marksman.

The two middle-aged women are unlikely yet close friends with Derrick, and can be a little overly protective of their school's most famous graduate. Rose, Powell and Henry share a bond that has only grown stronger since he graduated.

"The thing about Derrick is if he feels he hasn't been the very best he can be, he's so hard on himself," Rose said. "And we hurt for him. But he just works so hard, and he is so caring and so supportive and very loyal."

Rose can't talk about Derrick without tearing up, but she also likes to joke around.

"We will shoot anyone who writes something bad about Derrick," Rose recently said with a smile. "This is Nassau County."

Rose's favorite color is pink. Her entire office is covered in it.

On her birthday in December of 2012, Derrick surprised her with a dozen pink roses, a singing Disney balloon and a stuffed Smurf.

"He even took the time to pick out a card," Rose said.

On Derrick's last day of school later that month, she cried.

And, of course, she cried again when Derrick returned home for the first time in May of 2013. He was on crutches and carrying more flowers -- this time for Powell's birthday.

"He was trying to carry all these presents he got me and the flowers and all on crutches," Powell said.

Powell baked Derrick a key lime pie every Friday during his senior season of high school football. He averaged over 300 yards per game, and set the national high school career rushing record (12,124 yards). Key lime pie is his favorite, and Powell is very particular about her pies. She only uses Nellie and Joe's Famous Key West Lime Juice.

When Derrick invited Rose and Powell to the Middle Tennessee State game this season, they knew they had to bring a pie. Unfortunately, it didn't survive the all-day car ride from Yulee to Tuscaloosa.

Probably on account of all the shopping.

"We stopped at every boot barn on the way to Alabama," Rose said.

Henry rushed for 96 yards and three touchdowns on 18 carries against MTSU. He didn't play in the fourth quarter, so he was showered and ready to eat dinner with Rose and Powell 30 minutes after the game.

Derrick took his former high school front-office friends to Cheddar's, a popular Tuscaloosa restaurant.

"Great place," Rose said.

Derrick asked about his key lime pie, but Powell refused to give it to him.

"It wasn't good enough," she said.

She rectified the situation the next week with a little down South engineering.

Deep sea fishermen in Nassau County keep their bait fresh with dry ice. It works for key lime pie, too. Powell packed her second pie with three blocks of the stuff. Derrick's high school running backs coach was the delivery man.

Alabama lost to Ole Miss, but at least Derrick was eating key lime pie after the game.

"You might be a redneck if you know about dry ice," Rose said.

Rose and Powell are a slightly odd pair, but they don't have anything on the unique relationship between Derrick and the man who toted that Styrofoam cooler of dry ice and do-over key lime pie all the way from Nassau County.

Some unlikely friends have helped shape Derrick into a man, but an unlikely coach might deserve credit for the running back's historic career.

Derrick Henry was an office aide at Yulee High School the fall semester of his senior year. He helped Carol Rose (left) and Gina Powell (right) greet visitors to the school and sell pre-ordered tickets to his own football games. Henry remains close friends with Rose and Powell.

WEAPONS SPECIALIST

Pat Dunlap was Derrick Henry's running backs coach through middle school and high school. Dunlap never played football and only became a coach because his son's Pop Warner team needed an extra parent to run practices. That was back in the mid-1990s.

He got his start in coaching because he was guilt-tripped by a desperate parent. Dunlap is a volunteer coach, and always has been.

"We drove past the Pop Warner fields down there in Fernandina and my son said he wanted to play," Dunlap said, "so, I stopped and signed him up. The next night his coach called me up and said he didn't have anyone else to help coach and you gotta help me coach.

"I'm like, 'I've never coached football before. I don't even want to coach football.'"

Luckily for Yulee, Dunlap decided to help out all those years ago. Otherwise, Derrick might have gone to school at Jacksonville Bolles, a legendary local powerhouse where one of Derrick's middle-school teammates, D.J. Stewart, attended high school. Stewart went on to play baseball at Florida State before being drafted in the first round this year by the Baltimore Orioles.

Success in Pop Warner led to Dunlap helping out the Yulee Middle School team. That's when he first coached Henry. Dunlap coached Henry in the sixth and seventh grades and then again throughout high school.

In other words, the man who worked with Henry on the game of football longer than anyone never got paid for it.

Dunlap is an accidental coach, but he'll be in that Times Square theatre for the Heisman Trophy ceremony standing shoulder-to-shoulder with some of the game's greats.

Well, not exactly shoulder-to-shoulder. Dunlap is about 5-6.

"What I try to explain to people is Derrick probably taught me more about coaching than I taught him about running the football because he forced me to research and find ways to make him better that other high school players weren't prepared for," Dunlap said. "He had to be coached differently."

Dunlap says he never let Derrick feel comfortable. There was always a way for him to get better. In that respect, Derrick's high school running backs coach was a lot like Alabama running backs coach Burton Burns, another person Derrick calls family.

Stocky and gruff, Dunlap has the demeanor of a high school coach perfected. And since he doesn't have to worry about getting paid as a teacher, he can pretty much say what he wants.

After coaching high school football for several years now, Dunlap is well versed in the ways players can hop from school to school for athletics. Guns for hire might be the kindest way to paraphrase Dunlap's opinion. Coincidentally, Dunlap knows a thing or two about guns as well..

By trade, Dunlap is a "subject matter expert" for Trident Refit Facility at Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay. Just across the Georgia border from Nassau County, Kings Bay is the East Coast home of the Navy's Ohio-class submarines -- nuclear-powered subs that launch nuclear missiles.

Dunlap repairs the weapons systems on the subs.

"It's neat," Dunlap said.

A 30-year veteran of the civil service, Dunlap moved to Nassau County in 1991 when the naval facility in Charleston, S.C., closed down after the Cold War.

"I've seen a lot," he said.

Nothing could really prepare him for Florida high school football, though. Like everything in the Sunshine State, it can get a little crazy.

Jacksonville Bolles came calling after Derrick's eighth-grade season, says Derrick's father, but the running back remained loyal to Yulee.

"That's my hometown," Derrick said.

The strong bond between Dunlap and Derrick helped.

"For Derrick, a guy of his caliber to stay really kind of spoke volumes of what Yulee meant to him because he could have gone and won three state titles at Bolles," said Justin Barney, the high school sports editor for the Jacksonville Times-Union. "He could have caught a ride with D.J. every day to school, but something about Yulee just kept him here."

Loyalty and reps. Lots and lots of reps.

Dunlap and Yulee head coach Bobby Ramsay started Derrick his freshman year. By his sophomore season, he was locally famous. By his senior year, Derrick was on pace to possibly be the statistically greatest running back in the history of high school football. He rushed for 4,212 yards his senior season to set the national record for career rushing yards.

Yulee attempted just 76 passes that season.

In recent games, and especially in the fourth quarters, Alabama's offense has looked a lot like those old Yulee game films. Hand it off to No. 2, and get out of the way.

"He's just making college football look like high school all over again," said Dante Owens, a former Yulee teammate who played offensive line. "It looks the exact same with him running by people and nobody wanting to tackle him and everybody being kind of scared."

In his last two games, which served as de facto playoff games, Henry attempted 46 carries against Auburn and 44 carries against Florida. In the final three playoff games of his high school career, Henry had 57 rushing attempts against Taylor County, 43 attempts against East Gadsden and 43 attempts against Jacksonville Bolles.

And why not let Henry carry Alabama all the way to the College Football Playoff?

"Who is going to stop him?" said Owens, who now plays for Fond du Lac Tribal and Community College in Cloquet, Minn. "Look at the man. The man is a freak of nature."

The freakiest thing of all? His fingers.

Derrick Henry was unstoppable in middle school and high school. He rushed for 4,212 yards and 55 touchdowns his senior season, and set a national record for career rushing yards (12,124).

THE STIFF ARM

One on one, it's tough for college defenders to bring Derrick to the ground. In high school, open-field tackles on Yulee's great running back were the rarest of things.

"It just didn't happen," said former Yulee teammate Gunnar Cox, "and there's a reason for that. Derrick's stiff arm is probably the nastiest thing I've ever seen."

And Cox has seen a lot of it. Try almost every day in practice his senior season. Cox was Yulee's strong safety.

"And we had this rule that we couldn't tackle Derrick below the knees," Cox said. "It was rough."

If Derrick is the type of athlete that only comes around once in a generation, then Cox is on the other end of the spectrum. Limited athletically, Cox has been an overachiever his entire career. Originally a walk-on, he recently finished his junior season of college football at Jacksonville University. Cox is already preparing for his senior year.

"Hopefully I'll get a shot," Cox said.

He is a career special-teams contributor for the JU Dolphins, but Cox is hoping to break into the starting lineup at roving linebacker his final season.

Not that he'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. Cox has bigger plans. He wants to be a college coach "at a big-time school."

Cox transferred into Yulee his sophomore season, and Derrick was the person who made him feel welcomed at the school and on the team. They were fast friends, and though Cox has virtually none of the same athletic skills as Derrick, they share a lot in common. Both players like to work, and love being part of a team.

"When you transfer in, you're the new guy and you don't know a lot of people," Cox said. "Derrick was the first person to introduce himself, and you could tell right away he was a team player and he was going to sacrifice for the team. He made me feel at home."

Derrick and Cox worked out together throughout the spring and summer leading into their senior season. Derrick would sometimes spend the night at Cox's house, and the two friends would challenge each other late into the night with push-up competitions. Sometimes Cox won. He remembers maxing out at 87 reps.

What's it like for Cox to know he played high school football with one of the best college players in the country?

"It's amazing," he said. "I could just say, 'Yeah, I went to school with him and I know who he was,' but, no, I really know this guy. I spent hours and hours with him, just me and him, just training and hanging out and lifting weights."

Cox isn't the only person feeling a little starstruck lately about playing with Derrick. Alabama linebacker Reggie Ragland echoed the same sentiments after the SEC championship. Ragland said he was "blessed" and "thankful" just to play on the same team as someone like Derrick.

"It just shows by the way we play as a team," Alabama quarterback Jake Coker said. "This is one of the most unselfish teams I've been around, and I think a lot of that has to do with our MVP. He's so good for our team.

"It's hard to be selfish when you see the guy up for the Heisman Trophy being the way he is."

Cox knew all this years ago, of course, but it doesn't make his memory of that stiff arm any less painful. Derrick's size gives him leverage over most defenders in the open field. For Cox, that meant a face full of hand every day in practice.

The Heisman Trophy is an iconic image, and that famous stiff-armed pose is the reason why. If Derrick wins the Heisman, Cox can tell people he was on the business end of history more than anyone.

"I had just gotten contacts my senior year, and Derrick has these long fingers, and he didn't mean to do it, but he would always poke me in the eye," Cox said. "I would always tell him, 'Hey, you got to stop poking me in the eye because my contacts are getting folded up into my eyelids.'

"He's got like darts for fingers."

Derrick Henry grew up a fan of the Florida Gators and UF quarterback Tim Tebow. As a middle-schooler, Henry attended one of Tebow's high school games against Fernandina Beach. Henry's cousin Marcus Johnson played for Fernandina. Henry and Tebow are now friends.

VILLAGE KID

Cox will be watching the Heisman Trophy ceremony in north Jacksonville, which isn't too far away from where the Henry family will congregate on Saturday night to celebrate their family, their now-famous "Shocka" and, of course, the role his grandmother had in raising a Heisman Trophy finalist.

The Henry family's Heisman watch party will be in a hospital room for the long-term care of Gladys Henry, the grandmother who raised Derrick Henry.

But it took so many loved ones, coaches and friends to help develop the person who would become one of the greatest players in the history of Alabama football. Derrick will represent them all on his big night.

"He's just like a village kid, pretty much," said Latrease Terry, Derrick's aunt who taught him how to drive her old Chevy Malibu.

Derrick lived with Terry from middle school until his sophomore year of high school. From there, Derrick split time living with his father, his mother and middle school coach J.T. Medley.

All three will be in New York with Derrick.

It was Medley and his wife who opened their home to Derrick the majority of his time in high school. The structured environment helped Derrick focus on his school work. Medley traveled with Derrick to college combines and recruiting trips his senior year. Always self-conscious of being perceived too tall to play running back, Henry would shrink away from the measuring tape at summer events.

"He once was measured at 6-2 1/2, and he pumped his fist he was so excited," Medley said. "Only person I've ever seen happy they were measured shorter than they actually were."

As an eighth-grader, Derrick and Medley got in a little trouble together when Medley ignored his principal's command to bench his manchild running back.

The controversy happened during Yulee Middle School's game against rival Fernandina Beach, which means there was more than a little politics involved.

"All the money is on the island, and all the country boys are in Yulee," said Dunlap, the volunteer running backs coach who was with Derrick through middle and high schools.

They call the rivalry the "Battle of the Bridge."

The way Medley tells the story, Nassau County middle schools created a rule Derrick's eighth-grade season that forced teams to bench their starters after going up by by more than three touchdowns. Medley still calls it the "Derrick Henry Rule" because he says opposing coaches only cared about Derrick being on the field.

The rivalry game against Fernandina Beach was Derrick's final game of his middle-school career. It only took him a few touches to put Yulee up 21-0 in the first quarter. That's when Medley says Yulee's principal walked onto the sideline and demanded his school's own star player be removed from the game.

"But the game just started," Medley said.

Medley benched Derrick, but then instructed his special-teams players to let Fernandina Beach return the ensuing kickoff for a touchdown.

Fernandina Beach scored, Derrick got back in the game and Medley was later fired.

"So, yeah, I burned some bridges over that game," he said.

Derrick's high school teams never lost to Fernandina Beach.

In Nassau County, it's common to hear people claim that "Derrick Henry put Yulee on the map." His impact on the community that helped raise him might actually be more profound. There's a sense of pride up in the woods of northeast Florida these days thanks to the area's famous son. Not too long ago, there was nothing.

Florida desegregated its schools in 1964, and the original, segregated Yulee High School closed its doors in 1965. For four years after desegregation, Nassau County operated under a "Freedom of Choice" policy that allowed students to attend whatever school they wanted in the county.

Some Yulee students went to West Nassau. Most went to nearby Fernandina Beach.

Meanwhile, tiny Yulee lost its only identifier as a community. For many years, it was just a place on a map.

The new Yulee High School opened in 2006. Derrick was a freshman in 2009.

His senior season, Derrick was the reason ESPN came to his hometown to broadcast a made-for-TV game between the Yulee Hornets and Belle Glade Glades Day, which featured future Florida running back Kelvin Taylor. As an office aide during third period, Derrick literally helped sell tickets to his own marquee game.

He then rushed for 362 yards and six touchdowns on 35 carries. Yulee defeated Belle Glade Glades Day 42-6.

That victory remains one of the biggest days in the recent history of Yulee. Saturday would be another.

"Has Shocka got the trophy yet?" Grandmomma Gladys asked, as if it were all predetermined.