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Standards & Assessment

 

    “The people who go to baseball games do not, in the main, go to lectures on race relations, nor do they read pamphlets about good-will.  The millions who read box scores very likely have never heard of George Washington Carver.  But Jackie Robinson . . . will be doing the missionary work with these people that Carver could never do.  He will be saying to them that his people should have their rights, should have jobs, decent homes and education, freedom from insult, and equality of opportunity to achieve.” 

 

                                -Roy Wilkins, Michigan Chronicle.

 

   “Robinson is not only great because he can hit and field, but great because he withstood the greatest test last year any baseball player experienced in the history of the game.  He not only had to combat the opposing pitchers and base-runners but at all times appear to be ‘the perfect model.’  He was constantly under restraint and at times when he had the perfect right to speak up and protest against certain conditions, there was nothing he could do but grit his teeth and keep going.  Living and playing in such a rigid atmosphere was far from easy.  When something happened that he disliked, Robinson had to constantly remind himself that he was a Negro in organized baseball, unwanted generally but, nevertheless, there.  He had to say to himself: ‘Although I want to rise up and fight back and challenge my tormentors, I can’t.  Even if I’m right, someone will try to prove that I am wrong.  There are no  less than 14 million Negroes involved in this thing.  I am their representative and I can’t afford to let them down.  I’ll just have to stick it out and do the very best I can.’”                                                                                     

                      - Wendell Smith, The Pittsburgh Courier, March 5, 1947

  “Jackie Robinson . . . faced pitchers and defensive players who displayed more zest to get him out than any player in history. . . But Robinson’s been going his merry-way, hitting around .300 all season, leading the league in runs scored and stolen bases.  He’s taken taunts and bellowing cracks of the enemy in stride, and somehow managed to hold his head under the most trying circumstances. . . Robinson definitely has delivered . . .”       

 

                   - Wendell Smith, The Pittsburgh Courier, August 9, 1947

                      Cheers by Georgia Fans ‘Biggest Thrill for Jackie

By ARCH MURRAY

     Atlanta, April. 9 – There was a big grin on Jackie Robinson’s face as he sat in a corner of the dugout just before the history-making game here last night.  The crowd was pouring in, spilling over onto the hill back of center field.  But there wasn’t a sign of animosity he had feared so much.

     “You know,” he said, “how I’ve been dreading this weekend.  Well, I learned last night in Macon I’d been worrying far too much.  The reception there was the best I’ve gotten anywhere on this trip. . .”

     “It all goes to prove,” he added, “that fans are all alike no matter whet section of the country they come from.  It sure does make a fellow feel good, though.  It’s one of the biggest thrills I’ve ever had.”

      A little while later . . . Jackie strode up to the plate for the first time in the capital of the state where he was born.

     First there was a mild roar of enthusiasm from the bleachers where his people were clustered.  Then came the boos of the bigoted whites – boos that died in their throats as the good sportsmanship of the average American took command.  Then the white folks began to clap and a lot of them could be heard yelling, “C’mon Jackie!”

     Once again he responded just as he had the night before. . . He added another hit later, giving him five in eight trips on his native Georgia soil.

     His hitting these last two nights has been a tremendous tribute to his competitive temperament.  For it wasn’t easy coming in a part of the country where the Ku Klux Klan was muttering menacing but empty grumbles. . .

     But Jackie was still nervous when he stepped up to the plate in Macon. . . “Finally, though, I loosened up and smacked one to left field.  I heard the clapping and the cheers and I knew everything was going to be all right.”

   

     “Pee Wee (Reese) is a (white) Southerner, born in Ekron, Kentucky, and he took a lot of abuse because of his consideration of me. . . Because he was a Kentuckian, the bench jockeys all over the circuit rode him, a great shortstop, asking him how it felt playing next to a Negro.  In our first game at Boston, the Braves tried to give us a real bad time.  But Pee Wee shut them up.  He walked over to me, put his arm around me and talked to me in a warm and friendly way, smiling and laughing.  His sincerity startled the Braves, and there was no more trouble after that from them.  Later, he did the same for me in other ball parks. . .

    . . .For every player who tried to upset me that (first) season, there were two or three others, like Joe Medwick and Hank Greenberg, who gave me a helping hand.  Greenberg was playing for the Pirates then, and he used to talk to me encouragingly when I was on first base.  He told me that he, too, had run into discrimination as a rookie because he was Jewish, but he assured me that everything would turn out all right for me. . .

     Today, I can’t help thinking how much these things have changed in the past eight years. . . I’ve seen this especially in the South. . . We’ve played in many places in the South when the Ku Klux Klan threatened to run me off the field, but I was besieged by white teenagers for autographs.  I’m sure that many of these youngsters were the sons and daughters of klan members. . .

     While I was the White House, one of the secretaries told me a Southerner had been there earlier to defend the segregation laws that were being considered by the Supreme Court.  He had brought his grandson with him.  As he was carrying on about the dangers of giving Negroes equal rights, the little boy was tugging at his sleeve.  ‘Let’s go back to the hotel Granddaddy,’ the boy was saying.  ‘I heard Jackie Robinson is staying there and I want to see if I can get his autograph.’”

                     

                                                                      - Jackie Robinson, 1955                      

      “I play hard all the time.  But I’m going to slacken my aggressiveness in some respects (in 1952).  Not because of the Negro question, though.  I’ve got an executive job at NBC now, and I must watch the way I conduct myself.  When I have a legitimate beef, I’ll make it, and get out there quickly.  If it doesn’t concern me, I won’t put my two cents in.  (As a direct result of Robinson’s baseball achievements, National Broadcasting Company named Jackie ‘Director of Community Activities,’ last winter, making him NBC’s first Negro executive.) . . .

     (The) biggest improvement has been in the social relationship between white and Negro players.  There’s been a big change in the attitude of the men. . . I start a game and the other men join me.  I’m asked – and I sit in.  That’s a far cry from 1947.  Off the field, social relationships are not unusual.  Things are easy, accepted.  I go to dinners with other Dodgers, play golf, get invited out with my wife. . .

     I’ve received plenty of crank letters since I’ve been with Brooklyn. . . Now I show them to all the men. . . I got a letter in 1951 threatening my life.  The next day the players got together in the dugout and said they’d all put on black face and wear my number ‘42’ so the would-be killer wouldn’t know who to shoot at.  That made me feel real good. . .

     The Phils were rough on me when Ben Chapman managed them.  I remember he once was quoted as saying, he ‘beat up niggers in his spare time’. . . The Dodgers told me, too, that they were disgusted.  I always felt that day marked the welding of the club.

     White Southerners, by their association with Negro players, have learned to respect them . . . Some of them seem to realize that what they may have believed about Negroes all their lives is just false.  The fans want good playing.  They’ll cheer anyone – regardless of color – for a good play.”

 

                                              - Jackie Robinson, Focus.  July, 1952

                                                                                                                   May 13, 1958

The President (Dwight D. Eisenhower)

The White House

Washington, D.C.

 

My Dear Mr. President:

 

I was sitting in the audience at the Summit Meeting of Negro Leaders yesterday when you said we must have patience.  On hearing you say this, I felt like standing up and saying, “Oh no! Not again.”

 

I respectfully remind you sir, that we have been the most patient of all people.  When you say we must have self-respect, I wondered how we could have self-respect and remain patient considering the treatment accorded us through the years.

 

17 million Negroes cannot do as you suggest and wait for the hearts of men to change.  We want to enjoy now the rights that we feel we are entitled to as Americans.  This we cannot do unless we pursue aggressively goals which all other Americans achieved over 150 years ago.

 

As the chief executive of our nation, I respectfully suggest that you unwittingly crush the spirit of freedom in Negroes by constantly urging forbearance and give hope to those pro-segregation leaders like Governor Faubus who would take from us those freedoms we now enjoy.  Your own experience with Governor Faubus is proof enough that forbearance and not eventual integration is the goal the pro-segregation leaders seek.

 

In my view, an unequivocal statement backed up by action such as you demonstrated you could take last fall in dealing with Governor Faubus (in Little Rock, Arkansas) if it became necessary, would let it be known that America is determined to provide - - in the near future - - for Negroes - - the freedoms we are entitled to under the constitution.

 

                                                                               Respectfully yours,

 

                                                                               Jackie Robinson