Tom’s Grandfather Osborne was a Presbyterian minister in western Nebraska, and although he died when Tom was only six, he had a powerful hold on his grandson's imagination.

Grandfather Osborne had been a cowpuncher in his youth and Tom remembers him as being a tall, rugged man of strong faith and strong convictions, with a big laugh and a good sense of humor.

When Tom was five, he decided to climb Chimney Rock in western Nebraska. "No one ever climbed chimney Rock, but I thought maybe I could do it."

"Well," said Grandfather Osborne, "Eat a lot of breakfast. A man’s gotta eat a lot of breakfast in order to climb Chimney Rock."

The message was, with the right preparation, anything is possible.

Tom’s father, Charles Osborne, wanted to prove he wasn’t an overly pious preacher’s son, so he became a bit of a roughneck.

He let off steam playing football at Hastings College, and long after graduation he still couldn't get enough of the game. During his years as a traveling salesman, Charles carried a football uniform in the trunk of his car -- a uniform he had "borrowed" from the college. Every autumn, he’d drive around Nebraska, stop at high schools and talk the coach into letting him scrimmage with the team.

Charles Osborne’s enthusiasm for football was infectious and his son, Tom, caught it.

During the week, while his father was on the road, Tom’s mother stayed home with him, teaching him the alphabet and nursery rhymes. By the time Tom was three he could read, and books were almost as much fun for him as football.

But with the arrival of his baby brother, Jack, life for Tom -- at least in those early years -- was a lot less fun. With his dad home only on weekends, Tom became the man of the house and was treated like an adult.

"I never was quite as much a child as I might have been," Osborne has said. "But I sure learned a lot about being responsible."