If you ask Norman Campbell’s family where his nickname “Pig” came from, they tell you of an old Atlanta Journal newspaper photo that captured him as a wide-mouthed young’un being fed, and a caption that read: “this little pig can’t wait for his next bite.”
If you asked his Georgia Tech football buddies, it had a different origin: “He played right guard,” Claude Petty, a lifelong friend, said. “And he got his name Pig from the way he would dig down and get in the dirt and get after it as a football player.”
However he got the nickname, Pig Campbell was a presence that will be missed. Norman “Pig” Campbell, born June 12, 1931, died Dec. 15 at his home in Marietta.
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“Pig Campbell came from very humble beginnings,” his daughter Connie Zessack said in her eulogy. Growing up in a modest household on the south side of Atlanta, Campbell and his family experienced hardships from job insecurity to financial instability. “But from the day that my dad’s baby picture was in the AJC with the caption, ‘little pig,’ Pig Campbell put his family on his back and climbed up the ladder of success,” she said.
Tracey Prinzbach, Campbell’s other daughter, said while most people wouldn’t want to be called Pig, her father loved it. Most people, she said, didn’t even know his real name was Norman.
Campbell was a gifted athlete who played football and baseball in Atlanta’s recreation leagues. He later played baseball and football at Georgia Tech, and met Petty, one of his lifelong friends.
Petty and Campbell worked together to help recruit some of the high school football players who were on the 1952 Georgia Tech team, the year they were national champions. Petty said his friend was a leader and highly respected. “Norman had a reputation of being a guy who could do it all,” he said.
Campbell’s college athletic career ended with his knees blown out, and just like the little pig who couldn’t wait for his next bite, neither could he wait for his next adventure. He joined the Army and served his country in the Korean War. His paychecks went to his mother to support his family.
After his time in the military, Campbell came home and got involved with the family painting business. His mother told him that his father needed his help, and he did so without flinching. Now, many in the commercial painting industry in Atlanta know of Campbell Decorating Company.
“Over the 40 years he ran the business,” Zessack said, “he supported not only his family, but his father, his brothers, and for years his sister worked for the business as well.” During tough times, Zessack said, she always remembered her father’s integrity and him taking the high road to make sure his employees were taken care of.
In those times, she said, “There was no bailout for the hard times, just guts and perseverance.”
Campbell was an involved father who, with some prompting from his wife, coached his girls and others in sports. He never missed a game. He thought “girls were just as important as boys in sports,” and he coached girls softball teams that were champions of the park many times.
He also involved in teaching his daughters about modesty, perspective, and first impressions, lessons they remember to this day. When she was about 11, Prinzbach said, “I remember one time I made the mistake of sitting in the stand and holding my boyfriend’s hand.” Her father waited until they got home and calmly addressed the public display of affection.
“ ‘Tracey, people don’t know you,’ ” she recalls him saying. ” ‘People don’t know who you are, or what you stand for. You never know who’s looking, who’s watching, or what impression you’re making. You were making an impression without saying a word.’ ”
“But I’m being judged.” she protested. “That’s exactly right,” he responded. “We’re always being judged. You need to keep that in mind.”
In her eulogy, Zessack said, “As irritating as this could be as teenagers, those words resonated in our beings. Suffice it to say that we knew regardless of the standards of the day, we were held to the Norman Campbell standard always.” In a day of social media where everyone shares everything, Campbell’s daughters remember the lesson that perspective is reality.
The love story of Campbell and his wife, Polly, was “legendary,” Zessack said in the eulogy. “From repairing her flat tire on the side of the road in Florida, to a marriage and kids, my dad truly loved my mom above all,” she said. His friend Petty said anyone who knew Campbell knew that Polly, who died in 20214, was the love of his life.
“He was a presence,” Petty said. “Just a great guy. You don’t have to win all the accolades in the world to be a great person, and that’s what Pig was.”
He is survived by his three daughters and their spouses: Nanette and James Williamson, Connie and Ron Zessack, and Tracey and Paul Prinzbach. A Celebration of Life Service will be 11 a.m. Jan. 14 at H.M. Patterson & Sons Chapel in Marietta. In lieu of flowers, the family asked people to consider donating to the charity of their choice.
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