When Deanna Ardrey moved into her condo in Superior six months ago, one of the first things she did was get to know her neighbor, a towering man with an infectious smile.
“I’m nosy,” Ardrey admitted. “He was this young, good-looking guy, so I asked where he was from. He told me he’s from San Diego and went to CU. I asked him if he played football, and he said he did and that he was on the 1994 team.”
It wasn’t until Ardrey did a Google search that she found out her new neighbor, Rashaan Salaam, was underselling his football career just a tad.
“I went back to him and I said, ‘So you were a football player, but you didn’t tell me how good you were,’ and he just laughed and said, ‘Yeah,'” Ardrey said. “He never would have told us he played for the Chicago Bears or won the Heisman Trophy. That’s just the kind of humble guy he was.”
Unfortunately, his athletic exploits may not have been the only thing Salaam kept close to the vest. Salaam, 42, was found dead in a Boulder park on Monday night in what a source with knowledge of the investigation told the Camera was a suspected suicide.
“It really breaks my heart to hear that he was in that much pain,” Ardrey said. “I keep wondering if there was something more we could have done.”
While the Boulder County Coroner’s Office will be tasked with determining the final cause and manner of death, Salaam’s mother said police told her that her son left a suicide note.
Police on Wednesday would not confirm or deny the existence of a note, saying the investigation was ongoing. While the suicide has not been confirmed, some who knew him were not surprised.
“The warning signs started years ago, when he said he was brought up in a family with manic depression,” said Mike Tanner, a former CU player and close friend of Salaam’s. “He’d say to me, ‘Days when I’m depressed, I just have to fake it until I make it.’ He was a pro at hiding it, and he was hiding it from everybody, including me.”
Tanner said he talked with Salaam about if possibly suffering brain injuries from playing football was a factor, but thinks his family history had more to do with his depression than any injuries. Tanner said his own father struggled with the disease, and he saw it in Salaam.
“It goes in cycles,” Tanner said. “He was a happy guy a lot of the time. But obviously he got, probably, back to one of those cycles.”
‘Clearly something was wrong’
In 1994, Salaam found himself on top of the college football world. Fresh off a 2,000-yard season, Salaam became the first and still the only CU player to win the Heisman, and just a few months later was taken in the first round of the NFL draft by the Chicago Bears. He rushed for more than 1,000 yards and was named the NFC Rookie of the Year, but soon after that, things began to fall apart. Beset by injuries and fumbles, Salaam managed only 608 yards over the next two years. By 2000, he was out of the NFL.
Salaam encountered obstacles off the field as well. He admitted to struggles with marijuana, auctioned off his Heisman ring because he was in financial trouble and got involved with a failed mixed martial arts venture.
Dr. Stephen Walker, a Colorado sports and performance psychologist with an office in Niwot, said it is not uncommon to see athletes lose their way after their playing days are over.
“For him, it was not just a loss of health, but a loss of career,” Walker said. “I’m sure he was happy for them, but he probably saw some of his teammates playing or broadcasting or getting into different kinds of business. He didn’t have that. He didn’t find that.”
But Salaam finally seemed to find something he was passionate about four years ago when he partnered with a foundation called SPIN (Supporting People In Need) to help mentor kids. The original founder of SPIN, Riley Hawkins, said Salaam connected with kids because he was always up front about his own past.
“He was so honest about his mistakes and where he went wrong, and I think he was always trying to make up for the things he didn’t do,” Hawkins said. “He really took heart into at-risk youth and the principles we were trying to portray. If you catch them early enough, you can save a few lives, and he was trying to save a few lives.”
Hawkins said Salaam threw himself into his work with the foundation, but he still seemed like he was searching for something he never really found.
“I just think that when you skyrocket up and win a Heisman and make millions of dollars and then things start to decline, you are trying to find your place in life,” Hawkins said. “I think he was just trying to find his place in life.”
In a 2012 interview with the Chicago Tribune, Salaam said he was a “bachelor for life.” It was one of the reasons that Ardrey said she was shocked and saddened but not entirely surprised to hear he may have taken his own life. She remembers just a few weeks ago that she saw Salaam spent Thanksgiving alone.
“We knew he was lonely and spent a lot of time by himself,” Ardrey said. “He seemed like he was depressed.”
Even former teammates said he recently appeared to be pulling away from people. Salaam’s former teammate, Michael Westbrook, remembered trying to get Salaam to come out for Westbrook’s induction into the CU Athletic Hall of Fame in November.
“We were all calling him because I hadn’t seen him in years,” Westbrook said. “A lot of guys came out and it was a really good reunion that we had. It was a lot of fun, but we missed two or three guys, and Rashaan was one of them. It wasn’t a big deal; if you can’t make it, you can’t make it. But now you look back and you start to wonder … Clearly something was wrong.”
Hawkins said he also fell out of touch with Salaam in the past month and was recently supposed to reconnect to talk about the foundation.
“That was Monday, and then Tuesday … I was just sorry. I wish I could have done more, and I feel like a lot of people feel that way. Because the man is loved deeply. Deeply.”
Walker said withdrawing from friends and family was a sign that Salaam was depressed.
“If he wasn’t returning text messages or staying connected to his friends, my guess is he was feeling pretty hopeless back then,” Walker said.
‘It feels empty’
Tanner said he felt at times the Heisman weighed on Salaam, recalling once seeing it being used as a doorstop.
“The trophy, I think, really was uncomfortable to him,” Tanner said. “He, in his mind, didn’t live up to what the trophy defined.”
Tanner said that’s part of why Salaam was so involved with helping at-risk youth.
“Kids didn’t really understand what the Heisman Trophy was or care to know what it was, and he loved that,” Tanner said. “He wasn’t defined by that trophy with kids. He just trusted them, and the kids loved him.”
A replica of the trophy now sits in CU’s new Champions Center, and on Wednesday it was accompanied by flowers and a portrait of Salaam as some of his game highlights played on a nearby screen. On a table next to the trophy, the university laid out pieces of paper on which visitors could write notes or memories of Salaam.
Arturo Torres wrote about moving from Illinois to Denver in the early ’90s and then watching as his beloved Bears drafted Salaam.
“It was very exciting, getting a Heisman winner,” said Torres, whose daughter now goes to CU. “We wanted to come out here to pay our respects.”
The first to write a note was actually CU track and field coach Lindsey Malone.
“It’s heartbreaking,” Malone said. “It’s a tragic moment. But it’s an opportunity to remember to say how much we mean to each other.”
Walker said that athletes sometimes don’t get the support they might need because of the macho culture of sports and their hero status. Everyone remembers Salaam being hoisted on his teammates’ shoulders, but it’s possible nobody asked him what was weighing on his.
“You hear people talking about tough guys, but they may not feel like the toughest guy,” Walker said. “That may be someone else’s impression, but they may feel vulnerable, and it may not be something people want to hear from them.”
Ardrey said she now wishes she told Salaam more often how much she enjoyed her daily chats with him in their driveway while he was alive.
“I don’t think he knew how much he meant to us,” Ardrey said. “He had such an infectious smile and he was so nice. He always brightened our day, just being able to chat with him.”
Now, Ardrey can only look out the window at Salaam’s home as friends and family have stopped by to leave flowers on his doorstep or pray at his door.
“It feels empty,” she said. “It’s really sad, because I know he won’t be back.”
But Hawkins said he knows Salaam’s impact will still be felt in the young lives he touched with his foundation.
“We’ll remember him not just as a Heisman Trophy winner, but as a but as a guy who was sincere about trying to help kids because of his own past,” Hawkins said. “He stuck by (the foundation) like a Heisman winner would. That’s the part I will never forget.”
Camera staff writer Brian Howell contributed to this report.
Mitchell Byars: 303-473-1329, byarsm@dailycamera.com or twitter.com/mitchellbyars
