Say it ain't so, Joe

When I was growing up, my grandfather regularly brought my three sisters and I cereal when he came to visit. Normally, it was the standard group of Kellogg's classics, but one particular box has withstood years of pantry rearranging.

It's an orange-trimmed Wheaties box emblazoned with the image of Joe Paterno.

For years, my family has been Penn State proud. My dad graduated from State in 1976. My two older sisters graduated in 2006 and 2008.

I was one of the 110,753 people, the largest crowd ever at Beaver Stadium, who saw Larry Johnson run roughshod over the Nebraska Cornhuskers in 2002, and I will still argue to the death that he should have won the Heisman Trophy that year. (He ran for 2,015 yards!)

Never once did entertain the outrageous idea that someday I'd be calling for purge of the football program and for the dismissal of anybody linked in any way to alleged ultra-serious crimes. That includes one of my childhood idols, JoePa.

Less than a week ago, former Penn State defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky was indicted on 40 counts of sexually abusing at least eight young boys over a 15-year period, both as defensive coordinator for Penn State and after he retired but still had access to the college's athletic facilities. The 24-page grand jury report detailed Sandusky's alleged sexual contact with boys he met while working with The Second Mile, a charity he started to help at-risk children, many from broken homes.

The sickening report details sexual abuse at Penn State facilities and in Sandusky's home, among other places. Those details are difficult to read, yet necessary to comprehend the gravity of the charges, whose repercussions extend far beyond Sandusky.

According to the report, a graduate assistant, later found to be Mike McQueary, Penn State's current wide-receivers coach, told superiors that he had witnessed Sandusky sexually assaulting a boy in the locker room shower in 2002.

From that point, Penn State grossly mismanaged the situation over the course of nearly a decade, taking the most minimal measures necessary to ensure no disruption of the sacred football program. Law enforcement was never brought into the loop

Given the deplorable nature of the graphic allegations, no one should be spared. Not Tim Curley, the former athletic director who is now on administrative leave after being charged with perjury and failing to report child abuse. Not university President Graham Spanier, who has taken every wrong step possible in dealing with the aftermath.

And not Paterno. (Editor's note: The Penn State Board of Trustees fired Paterno, effective immediately, Wednesday evening. Later that night, thousands of students rioted in downtown State College.)

I have vehemently defended the octogenarian's status and held firm for years, like many Penn State fans, that Paterno should walk away when he sees fit.

That privilege is long gone. A New York Times report on Tuesday afternoon, posted shortly after Spanier cancelled Paterno's scheduled press conference, said that Paterno may be out as head coach "within days or weeks."

On Wednesday morning, the Associated Press reported that Paterno would retire at the end of the season.

I never thought that it would happen like this, but JoePa cannot continue to coach this team. Letting him play out this season is too generous.

Paterno built the program on a foundation of sound morals. That foundation is now crumbling. A man that prided himself on molding young men into upstanding citizens washed his hands of an incident that was completely reprehensible.

Maybe Paterno really didn't know the extent of the incident that was reported to him (though the New York Times reported Tuesday evening that the head coach did receive specific details of what happened). But if the graduate assistant had informed Paterno that it was his son in the shower, would Paterno have remained as quiet and done as little?

When Paterno or any coach recruits student-athletes to their program, they are selling themselves as parent or guardian figure on campus for the young person. Part of his job is to serve as a father figure. How can parents expect their sons to be cared for if the man that's entrusted with that care is brushing off such serious accusations?

The 84-year-old Paterno gingerly walked out of his house Tuesday evening to greet a mob of supporters cheering for him on his front lawn. "You have no idea how much this means to me," a teary-eyed Paterno told them with a grateful smile on his face.

There are no smiles to be taken from this. The whole situation is just sad.

Not sad that this is how Paterno will end an illustrious career that saw him earn more wins over 46 seasons than any other FBS or FCS coach. It did not have to end like this for him.

It's sad, heartbreaking and devastating to know that at least eight young boys, and possibly up 20 according to reports, may have had their innocence shattered, if the allegations are proven true, by a pathological child predator.

It's sad that these boys, some now men, lived in silence with the shame of the alleged crimes for years.

It's sad that people can know of sexual crimes against children, some as young as 8, do almost nothing about it, and sleep soundly at night.

New details may emerge, and the legal process still needs to run its course, but the memories have been permanently stained. I can only slowly shake my head and wonder why and how everything, the assaults, the lack of accountability the awful mismanagement after the report surfaced, happened.

When I return home for Thanksgiving, I don't know if I can keep that box of Wheaties.

Today, there are not many sadder places than Happy Valley.