Tragic End for Former Celtic

December 1, 1996

On Nov. 18, Phil Hankinson gassed up his 1991 Buick LeSabre for the four-day drive from South Carolina to Las Vegas. Along the way, he stopped for chips and soda and to buy three shirts. He also bought a handgun.

Within hours, he would use everything but the shirts.

The soda bottle was empty, chips were scattered about and the .22-caliber pistol was clutched in Hankinson's right hand at dawn the next day. A Kentucky State Highway patrolman discovered his car in the emergency lane of Interstate 64, an hour west of Louisville. 

In a chilling circumstance, a 45-year-old man who lived in near-isolation was found dead in the middle of nowhere. It was a sad ending for someone who began with promise: a legendary high school basketball career on Long Island, a successful run at the University of Pennsylvania, a brief flirtation with the Celtics. He played for nothing but championship teams.

Basketball was an important part of Hankinson's life, but after his apparent suicide, his friends and family were left to debate what role basketball played in his death.

"My brother was distraught, and was feeling depressed," said Kenneth Hankinson, 42, an insurance agent in Great Neck. "It was something that had escalated in the last few months of his life. But it was something that began way back."

In 1974, a knee injury finished Hankinson's NBA career after two seasons. Unable to play,Hankinson was never able to prosper in the real world during the next two decades. He drifted between jobs, never staying at one for more than three years, and worked as a security officer for a Las Vegas casino at the time of his death. He had an Ivy League education that he never bothered to complete. He knew people in high places in big business and basketball but never made connections. By all accounts, Hankinson was bright, sensitive, well-liked, quiet and gentle, but lost his ambition. The last time he drove himself hard was on the court.

"I believe his depression resulted from the knee injury," his brother said. "He never really bounced back emotionally after that. He didn't want to be a burden on his family and didn't want to be dependent upon anyone. That's the way Phil led his life. He was always so self-sufficient. He would not reach out for help."

But others reached for Hankinson once it became clear he owned a soft touch and a sharp mind for the game. By the time the slender 6-6 forward was through at Great Neck North High School, he was considered the best player Long Island ever produced and appeared to have a better future than a Roosevelt kid named Julius Erving.

"He actually believed a basketball player should not miss a shot," said his coach at North, Bob Morrison, now a school district administrator. "Phil wanted to shoot 100 percent, not 50 or 40."

Great Neck North's only loss in 1968-69 came when Hankinson sat with an injured finger. Otherwise, North and Hankinson were feared. He averaged 28.7 points and 17 rebounds that season, his senior year. Yet whenever anyone speaks about Hankinson, they instantly mention the time he scored as many points as Lynbrook in the '69 Nassau County final, won by North, 61-39.

"The most amazing exhibition I ever saw," Morrison recalled. "Lynbrook was the only team that didn't play combination defense on him all year."

Hankinson's success on the boards wasn't limited to basketball. He aced the college entrance exams and found himself being romanced by all of the leading universities, especially the Ivy League schools. He thought about Harvard, then was swayed by the powerhouse being built at Penn. There, he received top-notch coaching. He was recruited by Digger Phelps, the former Notre Dame coach. When he was a sophomore, Hankinson's coach was Dick Harter, now an assistant with the Trail Blazers. Chuck Daly coached at Penn during Hankinson's junior and senior years, and Rollie Massimino was an assistant.

Unlike today, the Ivy League had some of the nation's top talent in the '60s and '70s. But no Ivy team was better than Penn, which had the greatest run in school history during Hankinson's three seasons. In his sophomore year, Penn went 28-0 before losing to Villanova in the NCAA East Regional final. The next season, Penn went 25-3, was ranked as high as No. 2 and lost to North Carolina in the East Regional final. In his senior year, Penn went 21-7, losing in the East Regional semifinals to Providence.

He didn't carry Penn by himself - the school also had Corky Calhoun and Dave Wohl, both of whom had NBA careers - but Hankinson did finish as Penn's ninth all-time leading scorer, made all-Ivy and was drafted by the Celtics in the second round.

"Of all the guys I ever coached," Harter said, "he was probably the most likeable guy you'd want to meet. You'd see him and start smiling, because he would be smiling. He was maybe too nice a guy for the world."

The Celtics took Hankinson with the idea of grooming him as John Havlicek's replacement. Understandably, Hankinson appeared in only 28 games as a rookie in '73-74 for the Celtics, who won the NBA title that year.

"We thought he was going to be a terrific quick forward," said Tommy Heinsohn, then the Celtics'coach. "He fit into our style of play. But when he injured the knee, it took away his quickness. He never recovered."

Months after his rookie year, Hankinson accepted an invitation from teammate Paul Westphal to play in the Los Angeles summer league, where he crashed to the floor and wrecked his right knee. He played only three games for Boston in '74-75. His contract was up.

Knees can be reconstructed through surgery today, but in the 1970s, a devastating injury was a career-killer. Although Hankinson eventually regained some mobility, he never even attempted to give pro ball another try.

"That baffled the family," Kenneth Hankinson said. "He just settled for his disability benefits. The door was closed."

Hankinson was a Celtic longer than he was a sporting goods salesman. Or a security guard. Or a part-time high school coach. Those were just some of the jobs he took after the injury. He was a semester away from a degree at Penn but gave school a half-hearted try.

"We were very concerned," Kenneth Hankinson said. "This was a situation where he wasn't able to shift into another avenue. He couldn't find something he loved to do. We felt his life was wasting away because he could not get back on track. He wasn't concerned with finding a woman or starting a family. Clearly, something was wrong.

"But if you tell an alcoholic he needs to stop drinking, it's hard to get him to stop when he feels he doesn't need to stop. That was the same way with my brother, who was depressed but he didn't think anything was wrong. He felt he was OK."

Hankinson rarely talked to anyone except his family. He didn't make new friends. He maintained only sporadic contact with his coaches and childhood friends.

"Once he left the Celtics," Daly said, "he seemed to fall off the map."

Hankinson was good at masking any problems he might have had. That's why many who knew him were shocked by his suicide. But it wasn't the first time an NBA player took his life. Bill Robinzine, the former Maverick and Cavalier, died almost a dozen years ago in the garage of his home. Ricky Berry shot himself in '89 after a promising rookie year with the Kings.

"Who knows the demons that cause some people to react that way," Daly said.

With the help of Massimino, who coached two seasons at Nevada-Las Vegas, Hankinson found a job working the night shift at the Treasure Island Casino. He had no family or friends in Vegas but took a liking to the city on an earlier visit and decided to move there. Employees found him pleasant and polite and yet quiet and private. They called him "Hank." He rarely socialized. He ate alone at lunch break. He lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment near the Strip.

Penn held a 25th-year reunion of the 28-1 team earlier this year. Hankinson was the only player who didn't show.

"I kind of knew something was wrong then," said Calhoun, Hankinson's former Penn teammate. "In talking to a few people about him, I figured he didn't want to be embarrassed, although there were people who would've helped him. People had a higher view of Phil than Phil had for himself."

Hankinson's work performance at Treasure Island was stellar until one day in early August.

"Hank was like a good clock, always dependable," said a co-worker, Fred Haughey. "Then he didn't show up for work for two nights. He came in on the third day and said he was leaving. He didn't tell anyone why."

He called his family, now living in South Carolina near Augusta, Ga., and told them he wanted to come home. He drove through Amarillo, Texas, where it is believed Hankinson first tried to commit suicide.

Police pulled his LeSabre from a ditch along the highway. The Good Samaritan who discovered the accident said Hankinson appeared to be having a nervous breakdown. A mental disorder was diagnosed, his brother said. After being hospitalized for a week, Hankinson returned to South Carolina and underwent psychiatric care.

"After a while, he seemed like he didn't want to take medication," Kenneth Hankinson said.

One month later, Phil Hankinson told his father he felt fine and was ready to return to Las Vegas. He packed his bags.

"He didn't have a gun on him," Kenneth Hankinson said.

The details of the last few hours of Phil Hankinson's life are conflicting. He went north through Georgia and Kentucky to Las Vegas, a route that isn't out of the way, yet different from his usual route.

And when he was found slumped over his steering wheel on Nov. 19 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the right temple, Hankinson was headed east, not west.

"He also bought three shirts, which he apparently intended to wear at work," Kenneth Hankinsonsaid. "That tells you that this is not something he had made up his mind about."

After a knee injury destroyed his dream 22 years ago, Hankinson spent his life alone, by choice. He rarely reminisced about where he had been. He never gave a hint about where he was headed.

And he didn't leave a note. TRACKING HANKINSON 1966-1969 Attends Great Neck North High School . . . considered one of the best Long Island players ever . . . Averages 28.7 points and 17 rebounds his senior year . . . Scores 39 points in 1969 county tournament final. 1970-1973 Leads Penn to three straight Ivy League titles . . . Finishes as school's ninth all-time scorer (1,236 points) . . . Elected to Big Five Hall of Fame. 1973-1974 Celtics' second-round draft pick, plays parts of two seasons in the NBA . . . Celtics win NBA title in his rookie year of '74. He averages 3.9 points in 28 games. 1974 Accepts invitation from Celtics teammate Paul Westphal to play in a Los Angeles summer league, where he injures his right knee. Returns to Celtics, but plays only three games in '74-75. 1975-1996 Drifts between such jobs as sporting goods salesman, security guard and high school coach, never staying at one for more than three years . . . Works at Treasure Island Casino in Las Vegas at the time of his death Nov. 19, 1996 Hankinson, 45, found dead along Interstate 64 in Kentucky. The cause of death is a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.