During the decathlon at the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games, German actress and filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl reaches out to eventual gold medalist Glenn Morris. From left, the other decathlon competitors are Erwin Huber of Germany, plus Americans Bob Clark (farthest back, silver medal) and Jack Parker (head turned, bronze). (National archives)

This week in London, American world-record holder Ashton Eaton will be among those seeking the decathlon gold medal. He'll also be attempting to emulate Coloradan Glenn Morris, who won the goldand bettered his own world record in the 10-event test in the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin.

Morris remains a titan of Colorado sports history. Yet he is largely forgotten. That's surprising, especially as a contrast to the blockbuster headlines he generated both during the Games and after his return.

In Denver, "Glenn Morris Day" included a downtown parade and a rally that drew 10,000 to the University of Denver's stadium. He also was honored in Fort Collins, where he had been a football star and student body president at the school now called Colorado State University; and in tiny Simla, his hometown.

Morris generally was considered second in American accomplishment at those Games only to Jesse Owens, who won four gold medals. They both earned their golds with Adolf Hitler watching much of the time from his box in the Olympic Stadium.

In part because Owens quickly turned pro, and most likely also because of racism, Morris was named the winner of the Sullivan Award that year as the nation's top amateur athlete. (Later winners included Peyton Manning in 1997 and Tim Tebow in 2007.) To his credit, Morris said he thought Owens deserved to win the award. Also in his defense, the anointing of the Olympic decathlon champion as "the world's greatest athlete," which started with King Gustav of Sweden's remark to Jim Thorpe at the 1912 Games, was considered more of an accurate assessment than hyperbole.

When the decathlon is held later this week in London, someone will try to apply the label for nostalgia's sake, but it just won't sound right. Seventy-six years ago, in a different sporting world, it did.

Morris' dark secret was his involvement with German actress and director Leni Riefenstahl, who was making "Olympia," a documentary about the 1936 Games. The athlete spoke sparingly of the affair with Hitler's favored filmmaker, to friends and family. Riefenstahl eventually disclosed the relationship in her memoirs, published in Germany in 1987 and the U.S. in 1993. She said Morris had broken her heart when he returned to America after post-Olympics filming and soon married his college girlfriend.

Morris played Tarzan in the 1938 movie " Tarzan's Revenge" and had a bit role in the comedy "Hold That Co-Ed." But his Hollywood career fizzled, and his marriage ended. He played for the Detroit Lions in 1940, was released in November and finished the season with the minor-league Columbus Bullies. After serving in the Navy in World War II, he spent much of the rest of an increasingly troubled life as a knockabout laborer, mostly in Northern California.

Only foggily aware of Morris' story, I became intrigued when writing stories as CSU honored him in 2010 and 2011, the latter when the school's field house was renamed the Glenn Morris Field House. Eventually, I discovered much of the historical material about Morris floating around is inaccurate. I've written a fact-based novel about Morris and his affair with Riefenstahl, and it will be released in December.

Morris was 61 when he died in early 1974. I believe the relationship with the woman who had made the chilling "Triumph of the Will" and other documentaries for the Nazis contaminated Morris, derailing what seemed to be his destined life of achievement and prominence.

I couldn't write a happy ending here, or in a book. Yet Morris' gold-medal accomplishment in one of sport's toughest events, at one of the most famous Olympics, still deserves a salute.

Terry Frei: 303-954-1895, tfrei@denverpost.com or twitter.com/terryfreidenver

Glenn Morris (1912)