Promises to Keep: List 3

Eighteen days later, my parents began the long trek across the country so that Dad could report to the Royals’ training camp in Daytona Beach, Florida.

Luckily, Mallie, a southerner, had anticipated trouble and had packed my parents a lunch.

Dejected, Dad said he wondered if the same thing would happen in the next town.

In Baltimore, Maryland, the Royals learned there had been letters and calls threatening violence and a boycott if my father appeared on the field.

My father stole home during one game; the fans gave him a standing ovation.

An exuberant crowd watched the Dodgers beat the Boston Braves, 5-3.

Together, we fought off pessimism and despair.

Together, we fought off pessimism and despair.

Most importantly, Jack was neither a victim nor a martyr as some have characterized him.

White fan reaction may have been mixed, but there was nothing ambiguous about the support from the Brooklyn fans and from African-American communities across the country.

When I arrived on January 13, 1950, she and Dad were thrilled. My timing was impeccable.

“Wait till next year,” their annual mantra, finally meant victory!

As the Dodgers announced the trade, my father stepped up his negotiations with a coffee manufacturer and restaurant chain, Chock Full O’Nuts, for a career outside of baseball.

News of the trade sent baseball fans into an uproar.

Not being on the road meant he had time to give motivational speeches, write newspaper columns, raise money for civil rights organizations, join protest marches, speak to youth groups, play golf, and cut the lawn.

They felt that a minority-owned and operated-bank was the only way to help rebuild Harlem’s predominantly black community.

There was a flurry of activity that led up to the July induction ceremonies in Cooperstown, New York.

He once asked, “Is there a medal anywhere which is worth a man's dignity?"

My mom said, “Jack fought tirelessly for social justice and equality of opportunity for all people. He even ventured into hostile territory seeking to understand the complexity of issues dividing the United States. In doing so, there was always the risk of being rejected and misunderstood.”

My mom said, “Jack fought tirelessly for social justice and equality of opportunity for all people. He even ventured into hostile territory seeking to understand the complexity of issues dividing the United States. In doing so, there was always the risk of being rejected and misunderstood.”

All Major League Baseball teams were now fielding black, white, or Hispanic players, but the diversity stopped there.

In his eulogy, the Reverend Jesse L. Jackson reminded us that “no grave could hold this man down.”

But Dad would have expected us to stay in the game of life and to meet each challenge with strength and compassion.

Jesse, wearing a replica of my dad’s famous number 42 Dodgers’ uniform, stepped across first base, paused, hands resting on bent knees, eyes serious.

As the announcer played out the dramatization, he introduced my son to 43,000 cheering fans.