Gail Stouch put the letters in an album and kept them for 23 years.

When her son was a senior high school quarterback in 1995, Manheim Central ended its second straight season in the Pennsylvania AAA state semifinals with a loss to powerhouse Berwick. The game came down to the final drive, and her son, Matt Nagy, threw an interception that sealed his team’s loss.

In the days after the disappointment, fans sent him letters to offer support.

The Barons should hold their heads high, they wrote. They should be proud of the entertainment and joy they brought the town. And the quarterback should know good things were in store for his life.

“Some of them were just amazing,” Stouch said. “People we didn’t even know. … People who didn’t even like football. That’s the support he has felt all through.”

Nagy long has been a person who can compel a community.

In the two decades since, Nagy has proved his supporters right. He had a successful playing career, even if it never reached the ultimate goal. He transitioned to a fast-rising coaching career that received a boost from a few key characters. And Tuesday at Halas Hall, he greeted his new community.

As the 16th head coach in Bears history, Nagy faces a far greater task in keeping the support of Chicago fans who have gone 32 years without a Super Bowl victory and seven without tasting the playoffs. The Bears are turning to him to head the development of their promising young players, especially quarterback Mitch Trubisky, a task imperative to pulling out of the slump of four straight last-place finishes in the NFC North.

Some who have known the 39-year-old Nagy the longest aren’t surprised at the quickness of his ascension to such a position. Others are still in states of elated shock, even if Nagy did announce at a Manheim Touchdown Club banquet last year that he would be an NFL head coach one day. But they think he has the leadership skills to handle it.

“He always had a gift to read individual personalities and communicate with them and connect with them on their level,” said Bill Nagy, Matt’s father. “There are sheep and there are shepherds, and Matt is definitely a shepherd.”

‘More confidence than anyone’

Nagy’s hours-long media lineup was winding down Tuesday when he took a seat to explain the essence of his desire to be a teacher and a leader.

“Part of it was from always playing the quarterback position — you’re kind of forced into being a leader of guys, of your team,” Nagy said. “It’s instilled in you to have that leadership quality.”

Nagy began to display such skills at Manheim Central, where George Derbyshire laid out a clipping on the desk in his small office Thursday. It was the Lancaster County newspaper’s front sports page with a photo of Nagy’s Bears introduction on it.

The current students at Manheim Central weren’t born when Nagy played football there. But “Derb” has taught in the community for 51 years and has been the athletic director at the school since 1986. He won’t let the school’s sports history die.

He will hang the clipping on the sizable “Wall of Fame” bulletin board that includes articles on Nagy and the school’s two other most famous football players, former Steelers fullback Dan Kreider and former Michigan State quarterback Jeff Smoker.

“He was a winner from the start, and a leader,” Derbyshire said.

The borough of Manheim in Pennsylvania Dutch country in the southeastern portion of the state has about 5,000 residents, but the school draws from the surrounding area and has graduating classes of 200 to 250 students.

The community with a gazebo-centered town square is not exactly remote. Malls in Lancaster are just 20 minutes away, and Philadelphia and Baltimore are within two hours’ driving distance. But its residents describe it as rural, blue-collar, quaint — and obsessed with football. Mothers paint encouraging signs for players and hang them on telephone poles around town, and Friday nights are spent by most at the football stadium.

Photos of Matt Nagy, the Chicago Bears' 16th head coach.

Stouch moved her son, an only child, back to her hometown from New Jersey when she and Bill divorced in the early 1980s. He grew up playing every sport he could there — BMX racing, swimming, soccer, baseball, basketball and, of course, football. Nagy had enough football prowess that Bill, a former New Jersey high school defensive line coach, believed he was special when he was about 12 as he developed in Manheim’s well-oiled feeder system.

But above all else, Nagy was competitive.

“Everything just had to be a contest, and he did not take losing well,” said Eric Zeigler, Nagy’s former teammate and best man at his wedding. “It got to the point where I just couldn’t imagine how someone cared that much, even it was about a basketball game on his driveway.”

That drive could cause arguments, such as Nagy insisting to Zeigler and his friends that he drew an offensive foul when a bigger, better basketball player dunked on him in a pick-up game. He also initially butted heads with former Manheim Central coach of 34 years, Mike Williams.

Williams called Nagy “maybe my favorite of all time that I’ve coached,” but it didn’t begin well when Nagy became the starting quarterback as a junior. Nagy’s intensity would get the better of him when he didn’t like something Williams did or said. Eventually, Williams learned to be more patient, and Nagy learned to channel his fire.

“I don’t like the types of quarterbacks where you wonder if they have a pulse,” Williams said. “I like the guys who can get fired up and get intense and be a leader out on the field, and that’s ultimately what happened. We had a hate-love relationship to start with, but it turned into a real close relationship.”

Nagy set several school records in his Manheim Central career, completing 68 percent of his passes for 3,729 yards while leading the team to the two state semifinal berths. And in that career, his teammates saw a staunch work ethic and desire to thrive under pressure — the seeds of what make him a person players want to follow.

“He had more confidence than anyone I had ever met,” Zeigler said. “Some of it was absurd confidence in (himself), like, ‘I can do anything.’ But he has confidence in his ability, and when you see someone like that, it does push you. Like, ‘Maybe we can do this. Let’s work toward this.’ ”