Peter Dreier / Research & Analysis / Players
Before
Jackie Robinson: Baseball’s Civil Rights Movement
By
Peter Dreier
Published
in
Bill Nowlin and Glen Sparks, editors, Jackie:
Perspectives on 42,
Society for American
Baseball Research, 2021, pages 27-37. https://sabr.org/research/article/before-jackie-robinson-baseballs-civil-rights-movement/
In
February 1933 – when
Jackie Robinson was 14 years old – Heywood Broun, a syndicated
columnist at
the New
York World-Telegram, addressed the annual dinner of
the all-White New York Baseball Writers Association. If Black athletes
were
good enough to represent the United States at the 1932 Olympic Games,
Broun said,
“it seems a little silly that they cannot participate in a game between
the
Chicago White Sox and St. Louis Browns.” There was no formal rule
prohibiting
Blacks from playing in the major leagues, he said, but instead a “tacit
agreement” among owners. “Why, in the name of fair play and gate
receipts
should professional baseball be so exclusive?”1
That
same month, Jimmy
Powers, a popular columnist for the New York Daily News,
the nation’s largest-circulation newspaper, interviewed baseball
executives and
players, asking if they’d object to having Black players on their
teams. NL
President John Heydler, Yankees owner Jacob Ruppert, and star players
Herb
Pennock, Lou Gehrig, and Frankie Frisch, told Powers they didn’t
object. Only
New York Giants manager John McGraw – who, ironically, had tried to
hire a
Black player (posing as a Cherokee Indian) when he managed the
Baltimore
Orioles in 1901 – told Powers he’d opposed the idea. In his February 8,
1933,
column, Powers predicted that Blacks would eventually play major-league
baseball. “I base this upon the fact that the ball player of today is
more
liberal than yesterday’s leather-necked, tobacco-chewing sharpshooter
from the
cross roads.”2
Later
that month, Chester
Washington, sports editor of the influential Black newspaper the Pittsburgh Courier, coordinated
a four-month
series reporting the views of major-league owners, managers, and
players about
baseball segregation. It began with an interview with Heydler, who said, “I
do not recall one instance where baseball has
allowed either race, creed, or color to enter into the question of the
selection of its players.”3 The
paper quoted
Philadelphia Phillies President Gerry Nugent: “Baseball caters to all
races and
creeds. … It is the national game and is played by all groups.
Therefore, I see
no objections to negro players in the big leagues.” Commissioner
Kenesaw
Mountain Landis refused to respond to the Courier,
but his
assistant Leslie O’Connor said there was no rule against Black players.
Hiring
decisions were made by owners, not the commissioner, he said.
The
saga of how Robinson broke baseball’s color line in 1947 has been told
many
times in books, newspaper and magazine articles, and Hollywood films.
It is
typically told as the tale of two trailblazers – Robinson, the
combative
athlete, and Dodgers President and general manager Branch Rickey, the
shrewd
strategist – battling baseball’s, and society’s, bigotry.
The
Jackie Robinson Story,
released in 1950 at the height of the Cold War, five years before the
Montgomery bus boycott, celebrated Robinson’s feat as evidence that
America was
a land of opportunity where anyone could succeed if he had the talent
and will.
The movie opens with the narrator saying, “This is a story of a boy and
his
dream. But more than that, it’s a story of an American boy and a dream
that is
truly American.” Rickey is portrayed as a benevolent do-gooder who, for
moral and
religious reasons, believes he has a responsibility to break baseball’s
color
barrier. The 2013 film 42 spun
a
similar story. It depicts Pittsburgh Courier reporter
Wendell Smith as Robinson’s traveling companion and the ghostwriter for
his
newspaper column during his rookie season, but ignores Smith’s key role
as a
leader of the long crusade to integrate baseball before Robinson became
a
household name.
Most
books and articles about this saga ignore or downplay the true story of
how
baseball’s apartheid system was dismantled. Rickey’s plan came to
fruition only
after more than a decade of protest to desegregate the national
pastime. It was
a political victory brought about by a progressive movement.
Throughout
the Great Depression – from 1929 to 1941 — millions of workers,
consumers,
students, and farmers engaged in massive protests over economic
hardship. This
reflected the nation’s mood, a combination of anger and fear. Franklin
Roosevelt’s 1932 election as president, with 57 percent of the vote,
added an
element of hope. For most Americans, New Deal reforms – including
Social
Security, the minimum wage, workers’ right to unionize, subsidies to
troubled
farmers, a massive government-funded jobs program, and stronger
regulation of
banks and other businesses – offered welcome relief to the suffering.
In 1936,
they re-elected FDR with 61 percent of the vote.
But
some viewed FDR’s program as halfway measures that didn’t challenge the
problem’s root causes. The collapse of America’s economy radicalized
millions
of Americans. Because the Depression imposed even greater hardships on
Blacks
than Whites, Black Americans were more open than most Whites to radical
ideas.
At
the time, America was
deeply segregated. Black Americans, 10 percent of America’s population,
were
relegated to second-class status and denied basic civil and political
rights in
the South and elsewhere. The subjugation of Negroes, wrote sociologist
Gunnar
Myrdal, was “the most glaring conflict in the American conscience and
greatest
unsolved task for American democracy.”4
In
the
1930s and 1940s, civil-rights activists fought against discrimination
in
housing and jobs, mobilized for a federal anti-lynching law, protested
against
segregation within the military, marched to open up defense jobs to
Blacks
during World War II, challenged police brutality and restrictive
covenants that
barred Blacks from certain neighborhoods, and boycotted stores that
refused to
hire African-Americans. The movement accelerated after the war, when
returning
Black veterans expected that America would open up opportunities for
Black
citizens.
As
part of that movement,
the Negro press, civil-rights groups, progressive White activists and
unions,
the Communist Party, and radical politicians waged a sustained campaign
to
integrate baseball. The coalition included unlikely allies who
disagreed about
political ideology but found common ground in challenging baseball’s
Jim Crow
system. They believed that if they could push the nation’s most popular
sport
to dismantle its color line, they could make inroads in other facets of
American society.5
A
few
White journalists for mainstream papers, including Broun (a socialist)
and
Powers, joined the crusade. They reminded readers that two Black
athletes –
Jesse Owens and Mack Robinson (Jackie’s older brother) – had
embarrassed Hitler
in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin by defeating Germany’s White track
stars, and
that White and Black Americans alike cheered Joe Louis after he knocked
out
German Max Schmeling (whom Hitler touted as evidence of White Aryan
superiority) in the first round at Yankee Stadium before a crowd of
70,043 in
1938.
With
a
few exceptions, during the 1930s and 1940s sportswriters for
White-owned
newspapers ignored the Negro Leagues and the burgeoning protest
movement
against baseball’s color line. In contrast, readers of the nation’s
Black
papers were well-informed about these players and the protests. These
papers
did more than report; they were advocates for civil rights in society
and
baseball.
Their
reporters –
especially Smith and Washington of the Pittsburgh Courier,
Fay Young of the Chicago Defender,
Joe Bostic of
the People’s
Voice in New York, Sam Lacy and Art
Carter of the Baltimore
Afro-American, Mabray
“Doc” Kountze of Cleveland’s Call and Post,
and
Dan Burley of New York’s Amsterdam News – took
the lead in pushing baseball’s establishment to hire Black players.
They were
joined by Lester Rodney, sports editor of the Communist Daily Worker. They
published open letters to
owners, polled White managers and players, brought Black players to
unscheduled
tryouts at spring-training centers, and kept the issue before the
public.
For
Smith, the matter was
personal. In 1933, as a 19-year-old, he pitched his American Legion
club in
Detroit to a 1-0 victory in the playoffs. A scout for the Detroit
Tigers told
him, “I wish I could sign you, too, but I can’t,” because of his race.
Those
words “broke me up,” Smith recalled. “It was then I made a vow that I
would
dedicate myself to do something on behalf of the Negro ballplayers.
That was
one of the reasons I became a sportswriter.”6
Thanks
to Smith,
the Courier –
with the largest circulation of any
Black newspaper, growing from 46,000 readers in 1933 to over 250,000 in
1945 –
became the leading voice against baseball’s racial divide. Smith
expanded
the Courier’s
efforts to protest segregation in baseball
and other sports. In his first column on the issue, on May 14, 1938,
Smith
criticized Black Americans for spending their hard-earned money on
teams that
prohibited Black players. “We know they don’t want us, but we keep
giving them
our money.” He also criticized Black Americans for not patronizing the
Negro
League teams, putting them in constant financial jeopardy.7 Smith
was echoing
the civil-rights movement’s demand to boycott businesses that refused
to hire
or show respect for Black Americans.
In
1939
Smith interviewed National League President Ford Frick, who claimed
that
major-league teams didn’t employ Black athletes because White fans
would not
accept them. He also noted that Black players wouldn’t be allowed to
travel
with their teams during spring training or in certain major-league
cities
because Southern hotels, restaurants, and trains would not accept them
– a
reality that, Frick said, would undermine team spirit.
Frick’s
comments inspired
Smith to interview eight managers and 40 National League players, which
he
published in a series entitled “What Big Leaguers Think of Negro League
Baseball Players” between July and September 1939. Among the managers,
only the
Giants’ Bill Terry said Blacks should be barred from major-league
teams.
Dodgers manager Leo Durocher told Smith: “I’ve seen plenty of colored
boys who
could make the grade in the majors. Hell, I’ve seen a million. I’ve
played
against SOME colored boys out on the coast who could play in any big
league
that ever existed.” He added: “I certainly would use a Negro ball
player if the
bosses said it was all right.”8 Other
managers and
players agreed with Durocher’s view, expressing hope that Black players
would
one day play in the majors.9
The
Negro papers extolled
the talents of Black players as equal to their White counterparts. As
evidence,
they pointed to the outcomes of exhibition games between Negro teams
and White
players. On October 20, 1934, for example, the Negro Leagues’ Kansas
City
Monarchs beat a team of major leaguers, which included the St. Louis
Cardinals’
ace pitcher Dizzy Dean. A week later, Satchel Paige and the Pittsburgh
Crawfords defeated the same contingent of major leaguers. In 1938 Dean
told
the Courier that
Paige was “the pitcher with the
greatest stuff I ever see.”10 In
1939 Dean – who
grew up in rural Arkansas – told Smith that Paige, Josh Gibson, and
Oscar
Charleston were among the best players he’d ever seen. “I have played
against a
Negro all-star team that was so good we didn’t think we had a chance,”
he said.11
During
the 1930s and
1940s, the Communist Party – although never approaching 100,000 members
– had a
disproportionate influence in progressive and liberal circles. The CP
took
strong stands for unions and women’s equality and against racism,
anti-Semitism, and emerging fascism in Europe. It sent organizers to
the South
to organize sharecroppers and tenant farmers and was active in
campaigns
against lynching, police brutality, and Jim Crow laws. The CP led
campaigns to
stop landlords from evicting tenants and to push for unemployment
benefits. In
Harlem, it helped launch the “Don’t Buy Where You Can’t Work” campaign,
urging
consumers to boycott stores that refused to hire Black employees.12 Prominent
Black
Americans, including Paul Robeson, Richard Wright, and Langston Hughes,
were
attracted to the CP.
In
1938 the American
Youth Congress, a group led by CP activists, passed a resolution
censuring
baseball for excluding Black players. In 1939 New York State Senator
Charles
Perry, who represented Harlem, introduced a resolution that condemned
baseball
for discriminating against Black ballplayers. In 1940 sports editors
from New
York area college newspapers, many of them influenced by radical ideas,
adopted
a similar resolution. A story in the Daily Worker in
1940 proclaimed: “The campaign for the admission of Negro players to
the major
leagues has now become a national issue, drawing support from tens of
thousands
of fans and fair-minded Americans who have the best interest of the
game at
heart. … There is now the Committee to End Jim Crow in Baseball, which
is
growing rapidly and which has just launched a campaign to end this
evil. … The
magnificent talents of the Negro would be a tonic to the game,
enriching it
beyond measure.”13
Unions
played an
important part in this crusade. The New York Trade Union Athletic
Association,
a coalition of progressive unions, organized an “end Jim Crow in
baseball” day
of protest at the 1940 World’s Fair.14 Unions
and
civil-rights groups picketed outside Yankee Stadium, the Polo Grounds,
and
Ebbets Field in New York, and Comiskey Park and Wrigley Field in
Chicago. The
speakers included Congressman Vito Marcantonio of New York and Richard
Moore of
the left-wing National Negro Congress. Over several years, these
activists
gathered more than a million signatures on petitions, demanding that
baseball
tear down the color barrier. In 1943 similar pickets occurred outside
Wrigley
Field in Los Angeles, where the minor-league Angels played.15 Angels
President
Pants Rowland wanted to give tryouts to several Black players. He and
Philip
Wrigley, owner of the Chicago Cubs, the parent team, met with William
Patterson, a civil-rights lawyer and Communist Party member. But
Wrigley nixed
the tryout idea, saying he favored integration but “I don’t think the
time is
now.”16
No
White journalist
played a more central role in baseball’s civil-rights movement than
the Daily
Worker’s Lester Rodney. Born in 1911, he was
radicalized by his family’s own hardships and by the enormous suffering
he
witnessed during the Depression.
He
first encountered
the Daily
Worker while attending New York University.
He agreed with its political perspective but was appalled by its
failure to
take sports seriously. The paper occasionally wrote about
union-sponsored and
industrial baseball leagues, but not professional sports. He wrote a
letter to
the paper’s editor, criticizing its sports coverage. “You guys are
focusing on
the things that are wrong in sports. And there’s plenty that’s wrong.
But you
wind up painting a picture of professional athletes being wage slaves
with no
joy, no elan – and that’s just wrong. Of course there’s exploitation,
but … the
professional baseball player still swells with joy when his team wins.
… (T)
hat’s not fake.” The paper hired him and soon made him its first sports
editor.
He served in the capacity from 1936 to 1958, when he quit the Communist
Party.
Durocher
once told
Rodney: “For a fucking Communist, you sure know your baseball.”17 For
a dozen years,
Rodney was one of the few White sportswriters to cover the Negro
Leagues and to
protest baseball segregation. One of his editorials attacked “every
rotten Jim
Crow excuse offered by the magnates for this flagrant discrimination.”18 “Paige
Beats Big
Leaguers: Negro Team Wins 3-1 Before 30,000 Fans in Chicago,” declared
a 1942
headline, typical of the Daily Worker’s
advocacy journalism.19
According
to Rodney, the
paper “had an influence far in excess of its circulation, partly
because a lot
of our readership was trade union people” and because it was “on the
desk of
every other newspaper” in New York.20
In
a
1936 interview with Rodney, Frick insisted that there was no
prohibition
against Black players in the majors and, echoing Landis, said that
owners had
the responsibility for signing players. Some baseball executives told
Rodney
that there were no Black players good enough to play in the majors.
Others
blamed the fans, insisting that they wouldn’t stand for having Black
players on
their favorite teams. Or they’d blame the players, insisting that
they’d rebel
if the owners hired Black players to be their teammates.
Like
Smith and other sympathetic
reporters, Rodney shot down the argument that most players and managers
opposed
baseball integration. A typical Daily Worker story,
from July 19, 1939, was headlined: “Big Leaguers Rip Jim Crow.” It
quoted
Cincinnati Reds manager Bill McKechnie, who said that “I’d use Negroes
if I
were given permission.” Reds star pitcher Bucky Walters declared them
“some of
the best players I’ve ever seen.” Johnny Van der Meer, another pitching
ace,
said: “I don’t see why they’re banned.” Yankee slugger Joe DiMaggio
told Rodney
that Satchel Paige was the best pitcher he ever faced.21
Rodney
had great rapport
with the players. Between 1937 and 1939, he even recruited two
progressive
players – Yankees third baseman Red Rolfe and Cubs first baseman Ripper
Collins
– to write for the Daily Worker. They
wrote about baseball, not politics, but, according to Irwin Silber,
Rodney’s
biographer, “the fact that a major-league ballplayer would be willing
to write
for the Daily
Worker signified a degree of legitimacy for
the Communist Party – or at least its newspaper – that could hardly
have been
imagined a few years earlier.”22
According
to Rodney,
“Readers loved it, of course, but the really fascinating thing was the
next day
after a story would come out. I’d go into the dressing room before the
game –
and just picture this – there are the Yankees – the New
York Yankees – sitting around the dressing room reading
the Daily
Worker. If Colonel Ruppert [the Yankees owner]
had walked in, he would have had a heart attack.” And there was “not a
word of
red-baiting” of Rolfe or Collins by their teammates.23
Rodney
interviewed Negro
players to challenge the myth that they preferred playing in the Negro
Leagues
to breaking into the majors. In an interview with Rodney, Paige
observed:
“We’ve been playing a team of major-league all stars after the regular
season in
California for four years and they haven’t beaten us yet. … Must be a
few men
who don’t want us to play big league ball. The players are okay and the
crowds
are with us.”24
For
Rodney, reporting and advocacy were intertwined. In 1941 he and
sportswriters
for Negro newspapers, including Smith, sent telegrams to team owners
asking
them to give tryouts to Black players. In 1942 the Chicago White Sox
reluctantly invited the Negro League pitcher Nate Moreland and UCLA’s
All-American football star Jackie Robinson to attend a tryout camp in
Pasadena.
Manager Jimmy Dykes raved about Robinson: “He’s worth $50,000 of
anybody’s
money. He stole everything but my infielders’ gloves.” But the two
ballplayers
never heard from the White Sox again.
In
response to Rodney’s
telegram, the Pittsburgh Pirates invited Negro League players Roy
Campanella,
Sammy Hughes, and David Barnhill to a tryout. But as Campanella, later
a Hall
of Fame catcher with the Dodgers, recalled in his 1959
autobiography It’s Good to Be
Alive, the invitation letter from
Pirates owner William Benswanger “contained so many buts that I was
discouraged
even before I finished reading the letter.”25 Benswanger
canceled
the tryout.
Despite
his strong
opposition to communism, Smith acknowledged Rodney’s role on behalf of
baseball
integration. In an August 20, 1939, letter to Rodney in the Daily Worker,
Smith wrote that he wanted to
“congratulate you and the Daily Worker for
the way you have joined with us in the current series concerning Negro
Players
in the major leagues, as well as all your past great efforts in this
aspect.”
He expressed the hope of further collaboration.26
After
the United States entered World War II in December 1941, this coalition
escalated its campaign to integrate baseball.
Some
African-Americans
had mixed feelings about supporting the war effort when they faced such
blatant
discrimination at home. When he was drafted, Nate Moreland, a Negro
League
pitcher, complained: “I can play in Mexico, but I have to fight for
America,
where I can’t play.” Activists carried picket signs at Yankee Stadium,
asking,
“If we are able to stop bullets, why not balls?”27 An
editorial in
the New
Negro World in May 1942 reflected similar
frustrations:
“If
my nation cannot
outlaw lynching, if the uniform [of the Army] will not bring me the
respect of
the people that I serve, if the freedom of America will not protect me
as a
human being when I cry in the wilderness of ingratitude; then I declare
before
both God and man … TO HELL WITH PEARL HARBOR.”28
A
month after the
Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and the United States
entered
the war, James Thompson, a cafeteria worker in Kansas, coined the
phrase
“Double Victory” in a letter to the Pittsburgh Courier.
“The
V for victory sign
is being displayed prominently in so-called democratic countries which
are
fighting for victory over aggression, slavery and tyranny,” Thompson
wrote. “If
this V sign means that to those now engaged in this great conflict,
then let we
colored Americans adopt the double VV for a double victory. The first V
for
victory over our enemies from without, the second V for victory over
our
enemies from within. For surely those who perpetrate these ugly
prejudices here
are seeking to destroy our democratic form of government just as surely
as the
Axis forces.”29
Black
leaders and
newspapers enthusiastically supported the “Double V” campaign.
Cumberland “Cum”
Posey, owner of the Negro League’s Homestead Grays, suggested, in his
weekly Courier column
“Posey’s Points,” that every Negro
League player wear a Double V symbol on its uniform.
Throughout
the war years,
Smith, Rodney, and other progressive sportswriters voiced their outrage
about
the hypocrisy of baseball’s establishment.30
In
an open letter to
Landis published in the Daily Worker in
May 1942, Rodney wrote: “Negro soldiers and sailors are among those
beloved
heroes of the American people who have already died for the
preservation of
this country and everything this country stands for – yes, including
the great
game of baseball. You, the self-proclaimed ‘Czar’ of baseball, are the
man
responsible for keeping Jim Crow in our National Pastime. You are the
one refusing
to say the word which would do more to justify baseball’s existence in
this
year of war than any other single thing.”
In
a
July 1942 column, Smith wrote that “big league baseball is perpetuating
the
very things thousands of Americans are overseas fighting to end,
namely, racial
discrimination and segregation.” The next year, he called on President
Roosevelt to adopt a “Fair Employment Practice Policy” for major-league
baseball similar to the one he’d adopted in war industries and
governmental
agencies.
In
June 1942, large
locals of several major unions – including the United Auto Workers and
the
National Maritime Union, as well as the New York Industrial Union
Council of
the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) – sent resolutions to
Landis
demanding an end to baseball segregation. The union leaders told
Landis’s
secretary, Leslie O’Connor, that unless he let them address the owners’
meeting, they would take the issue to the Fair Employment Practices
Committee
(FEPC), the federal agency created by FDR in 1941 to investigate
discrimination
in the defense industry and other sectors.31 Landis
and the
owners refused to meet with them.
The
unions’ protest made
headlines in both Negro and White newspapers across the country. The
stories
mostly focused on Landis’s refusal to meet with them, but just getting
the
issue in the news helped them build public support for their cause.32 The
movement gained
an important ally when Chicago’s Catholic bishop, Bernard Shiel,
announced he
would urge Landis to support integration.33 In
July 1942,
Landis summoned Durocher to a meeting in Chicago, and rebuked him for
his
comments claiming that baseball banned Black players. Landis issued a
statement
claiming that “there is no baseball rule – formal, informal, or
otherwise –
that says a ball player must be white.”34 Most
newspapers
took Landis at his word, but the Black papers and the Daily Worker called
him a hypocrite.
That
December, 10 CIO
leaders went to the baseball executives’ winter meetings in Chicago to
demand
that major-league teams recruit Black players, but Landis again refused
to meet
with them.35 Only
Chicago Cubs
owner Phil Wrigley broke ranks. After the official meeting ended, he
invited
union leaders to his office and told them he favored integration and
revealed
that, contrary to his fellow owners’ claims, there was, in fact, a
“gentlemen’s
agreement” among them to keep Blacks out of major-league baseball.
“There are
men in high places,” he told them, “who don’t want to see it.”36 Frustrated
by the
lack of progress, in February 1943 a broad coalition of unions,
left-wing
groups, religious and civil-rights organizations, including the Urban
League
and the NAACP, met in Chicago and adopted a resolution demanding the
integration of baseball, to send to Landis, team owners, and President
Roosevelt.37
Smith
spent much of 1943
lambasting Washington Senators owner Clark Griffith for his outspoken
opposition
to allowing Blacks in the majors. Griffith insisted that Blacks should
focus on
improving their own leagues. Smith recognized that Griffith was
profiting
handsomely by renting his ballpark to Negro League teams. He was also
angered
that during World War II Griffith signed foreign-born ballplayers,
including
many Latin Americans, instead of Black athletes to replace White
players.
Griffith “has so many foreigners on his team it is necessary to have an
interpreter,” Smith wrote.38
In
December 1943 Smith asked Landis to meet with the publishers of leading
Black
newspapers at the owners’ December meeting. Landis agreed, pressured in
part by
a resolution sponsored by a New York City Council member demanding that
the
major leagues recruit Black players. This was the first time that
representatives of the Black community met directly with baseball’s
establishment.
Smith
brought seven
newspapermen along, as well as Paul Robeson, the Black actor, singer,
activist,
and former All-American athlete at Rutgers. Landis began the meeting by
insisting that he wanted it “clearly understood that there is no rule,
nor to
my knowledge, has there ever been, formal or informal, or any
understanding,
written or unwritten, subterranean or sub-anything, against the hiring
of
Negroes in the major leagues.”39
Then
Landis introduced
Robeson, who gave an impassioned 20-minute appeal, referencing his
experience
in college and professional football and his current work as an actor,
dispelling the idea that desegregation creates chaos. “They said that
America
never would stand for my playing Othello with a white cast, but it is
the
triumph of my life,” he declared.
“The
time has come when
you must change your attitude toward Negroes. … Because baseball is a
national
game, it is up to baseball to see that discrimination does not become
an
American pattern. And it should do this this year.”40
The
owners gave him a rousing applause, but Landis had instructed them to
ask him
no questions.
Landis
next introduced
John Sengstacke, president of the Negro Newspaper Publishers
Association and
the publisher of the Chicago Defender. Sengstacke
called the ban against Black players “un-American” and “undemocratic.”
Then Ira
Lewis, president of the Courier,
told the
owners it was simply untrue that major-league players would refuse to
play
against Black athletes, based on Smith’s many interviews. He also noted
that
Black players could compete with White players at the same level,
reminding the
owners that Black teams had defeated teams of major leaguers in various
exhibition games.41
None
of
the baseball owners and executives asked the Black publishers any
questions.
After the meeting ended, they issued an official statement repeating
Landis’s
claims.
In
1944
Smith wrote several sympathetic stories to help publicize the
court-martial of
a Black soldier at Fort Hood, Texas – a former UCLA four-sport athlete
– for
refusing to go to the back of a military bus. The soldier was Jackie
Robinson,
who befriended Smith and was grateful for his support.
In
early 1945, a few
months after Landis died, baseball’s owners selected Albert “Happy”
Chandler as
the next baseball commissioner. As governor and then senator from
Kentucky,
Chandler echoed the segregationist views of most White Kentuckians. So
when Pittsburgh
Courier reporter Ric Roberts asked
Chandler about allowing Blacks in the big leagues, he was surprised to
hear
Chandler say that he didn’t think it was fair to perpetuate the ban and
that
teams should hire players to win ballgames “whatever their origin or
race.”42 Baseball’s
integration crusaders felt that even if Chandler wasn’t an ally, he
wouldn’t be
an implacable obstacle as Landis had been.
On
April 6, 1945, as the
war was winding down, Black sportswriter Joe Bostic of the People’s Voice appeared
unannounced at the
Dodgers’ Bear Mountain, New York, training camp with Negro League stars
Terris
McDuffie and Dave Thomas and pressured Rickey into giving them tryouts.
The
next day, Rickey and manager Durocher watched the two athletes perform,
but
determined that they were not major-league caliber. Moreover, Rickey
was
furious. He wanted to bring Black players into major-league baseball,
but he
wanted to do it on his terms and his timetable. He didn’t want the
public to
think that he was being pressured into it. “I am more for your cause
than
anybody else you know,” he told Bostic, “but you are making a mistake
using force.
You are defeating your own aims.” But the ploy made the news. The New York Times ran
a story headlined: “Two Negroes
Are Tried Out by Dodgers but They Fail to Impress President Rickey.”43
With
many progressive
unions and civil-rights groups, a large Black population, and three
major-league teams, New York City was the center of the movement to end
Jim
Crow in baseball. On Opening Day of 1944, for example, the Congress of
Racial
Equality (CORE) organized a demonstration outside Yankee Stadium to
enlighten
fans and castigate the owners of the game’s most powerful franchise.
Several
New York politicians were allies of the campaign to integrate baseball.
Running
for re-election as a Communist to the New York City Council in 1945,
Ben Davis
– an African-American who starred on the football field for Amherst
College
before earning a law degree at Harvard – distributed a leaflet with the
photos
of two Blacks, a dead soldier and a baseball player. “Good enough to
die for
his country,” it said, “but not good enough for organized baseball.”44
In
March of 1945, the New York State Legislature passed, and Republican
Gov.
Thomas E. Dewey signed, the Quinn-Ives Act, which banned discrimination
in
hiring, and soon formed a committee to investigate discriminatory
hiring practices,
including one that focused on baseball.
In
short order, New York City Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia established a
Committee on
Baseball to push the Yankees, Giants, and Dodgers to sign Black
players. Rickey
met with LaGuardia but didn’t reveal his plan. Left-wing Congressman
Vito
Marcantonio, who represented Harlem, called for the US Commerce
Department to
investigate baseball’s racist practices.
The
baseball
establishment was feeling the heat. Sam Lacy, a reporter for the Afro-American,
wrote to all of the owners suggesting
that they set up an integration committee. To deflect the problem and
avoid bad
publicity, the owners reluctantly agreed to study the issue of
discrimination.
Rickey (representing the NL) agreed to serve on the committee along
with
Yankees President Larry MacPhail (representing the AL), Lacy, and
Philadelphia
Judge Joseph H. Rainey, an African-American. But, according to Lacy,
“MacPhail
always found a way to be too busy for us,” and the full committee never
met.
Rickey told Lacy that he would work to integrate baseball on his own.45
Rickey
wasn’t pleased with this pressure, which he knew was partly
orchestrated by
Communists and other radicals.
Rickey’s
White scouts, unfamiliar with the Negro Leagues, couldn’t help him find
the
Black player he wanted to be baseball’s trailblazer. Instead, Rickey
had
subscriptions to the major Negro newspapers, which published Negro
League box
scores, statistics, and schedules, and whose sportswriters gave
accounts of its
best players. In 1945 Rickey gave his scouts a list of players to
follow,
pretending that he was interested in starting his own all-Black
baseball league
to compete with the existing Negro Leagues.
Rickey’s
search for the
right player was inadvertently aided by Isadore Muchnick, a progressive
Jewish
member of the Boston City Council. In 1945 Muchnick was determined to
push the
Boston Red Sox to hire Black players. But owner Tom Yawkey was among
baseball’s
strongest opponents of integration. Muchnick threatened to deny the Red
Sox a
permit needed to play on Sundays unless the team considered hiring
Black
players. Working with Smith and White sportswriter Dave Egan of
the Boston
Record, Muchnick persuaded reluctant general
manager Eddie Collins to give three Negro League players – Robinson,
Sam
Jethroe, and Marvin Williams – a tryout at Fenway Park on April 16.
Robinson
had already
endured the earlier bogus tryout with the White Sox four years earlier
in
Pasadena. He was skeptical about the Red Sox’ motives now, He and the
other two
players performed well. Robinson, the most impressive of the three, hit
line
drives to all fields. “Bang, bang, bang; he rattled it,” Muchnick
recalled.
“Jackie hit balls over the fence and against the wall,” echoed Jethroe.
“What a
ballplayer,” said Hugh Duffy, the Red Sox’ chief scout and onetime
outstanding
hitter. “Too bad he’s the wrong color.”46
The
Red Sox, Pirates, and
White Sox had no intention of signing any of the Black players from the
tryouts. But the public pressure and media publicity helped raise
awareness and
furthered the cause. And it helped give Rickey, who did want
to hire Black players, a sense of urgency
that if he wanted to be baseball’s racial pioneer, he needed to act
quickly.
After
the phony Fenway Park tryout, Smith headed to Brooklyn to tell Rickey
about
Robinson’s superlative performance. Smith was convinced that among
major-league
owners, Rickey was the desegregation campaign’s strongest ally. The
meeting
cemented the relationship between the two men. Smith kept offering
Rickey the
names of Black ballplayers, but gave Robinson his strongest endorsement.
If
Bill Veeck – who voted
several times for Norman Thomas, the Socialist Party candidate for
president –
had his way, major-league baseball would have integrated five years
before
Robinson signed with the Dodgers. In 1942, when he owned the
minor-league
Milwaukee Brewers, the 28-year old Veeck learned that the Philadelphia
Phillies
were bankrupt and for sale. He quietly found investors, including CIO
unions,
then made a deal with the Phillies’ owner, Gerry Nugent, to buy the
team.47 As
he left for
Philadelphia to seal the deal, he ran into John Carmichael, a Chicago Daily News sports
columnist. He told
Carmichael,
“I’m
going to
Philadelphia. I’m going to buy the Phillies. And do you know what I’m
going to
do? I’m going to put a whole Black team on the field.”48
Veeck
believed that
recruiting Negro Leagues stars could turn the lowly Phillies into a
winning
team and demonstrate that Black players were of major-league caliber.
But hours
before leaving for Philadelphia, Veeck made the mistake of informing
Landis
about his intentions. Veeck later recounted: “I got on the train
feeling I had
not only a Major League ball club but I was almost a virtual cinch to
win the
pennant next year.” Before he had even reached Nugent’s office the next
day,
Veeck learned that the NL had taken over the Phillies the night before
and was
seeking a new owner. Veeck was not on their list. As Veeck recounted in
his
1962 autobiography, Landis and Frick had orchestrated a quick sale of
the
Phillies to another buyer.49
Despite
this setback,
Veeck continued to participate in baseball’s civil-rights movement. In
the
early 1940s, as owner of the minor-league Milwaukee Brewers, Veeck sat
in the
“colored” section of the stands during the team’s spring training in
Ocala,
Florida. The local sheriff and mayor showed up, ordered him to move,
and threatened
to arrest him for violating Florida’s Jim Crow laws. Veeck refused and
threatened to pull the team’s lucrative spring-training program. The
local
officials left him alone after that.50 In
1947, shortly
after Robinson joined the Dodgers, Veeck, who then owned the Cleveland
Indians,
hired Larry Doby as the AL’s first Black player and moved the team’s
spring-training venue from Florida to Arizona.
A
little-known episode in
the battle to integrate baseball took place in the US military in
Europe, led
by Sam Nahem, a right-handed pitcher who embraced left-wing politics.51 Nahem
pitched for
Brooklyn College’s baseball team and played fullback on its football
team. At
the time, Brooklyn College was a center of political activism, and
Nahem began
participating in Communist Party activities there. Between 1938 and
1941, Nahem
pitched for the Brooklyn Dodgers, St. Louis Cardinals, and Philadelphia
Phillies and earned a law degree at St. John’s University in the
offseasons.
Like
most radicals of
that era, Nahem believed that baseball should be racially integrated.
He talked
to some of his teammates to encourage them to be more open-minded. “I
did my
political work there,” he told an interviewer years later. “I would
take one
guy aside if I thought he was amiable in that respect and talk to him,
man to
man, about the subject. I felt that was the way I could be most
effective.”52
During
World War II, many professional players were in the military, so the
quality of
play on military bases was excellent. After Germany surrendered in May
1945,
the military expanded its baseball program. That year, over 200,000
troops
played on military teams in France, Germany, Belgium, Austria, Italy,
and
Britain.
Many
top Negro League
ballplayers were in the military, but they faced segregation,
discrimination,
and humiliation. Monte Irvin, a Negro League standout who later starred
for the
New York Giants, recalled: “When I was in the Army I took basic
training in the
South. I’d been asked to give up everything, including my life, to
defend
democracy. Yet when I went to town I had to ride in the back of a bus,
or not
at all on some buses.”53 Most
Black soldiers
with baseball talent were confined to playing on all-Black teams.
Nahem
entered the military in November 1942. He volunteered for the infantry
and
hoped to see combat in Europe to help defeat Nazism. But he spent his
first two
years at Fort Totten in New York. There, he pitched for the
Anti-Aircraft
Redlegs of the Eastern Defense Command. In 1943 he set a league record
with a
0.85 earned-run average. He also finished second in hitting with a .400
batting
average and played every defensive position except catcher. In
September 1944,
his Fort Totten team beat the Philadelphia Athletics 9-5 in an
exhibition game.
Nahem pitched six innings, gave up only two runs and five hits, and
slugged two
homers, accounting for seven of his team’s runs.
Sent
overseas in late 1944, Nahem served with an antiaircraft artillery
division.
From his base in Rheims, he was assigned to run two baseball leagues in
France,
while also managing and playing for his own team, the Overseas Invasion
Service
Expedition (OISE) All-Stars, which represented the army command in
charge of
communication and logistics. The team was made up mainly of semipro,
college,
and ex-minor-league players. Besides Nahem, only one other OISE player,
Russ
Bauers, who had compiled a 29-29 won-loss record with the Pirates
between 1936
and 1941, had major-league experience.
Defying
the military establishment and baseball tradition, Nahem insisted on
having
African-Americans on his team. He recruited Willard Brown, a slugging
outfielder for the Kansas City Monarchs and Leon Day, a star pitcher
for the
Newark Eagles.
Nahem’s
OISE team won 17 games and lost only one, attracting as many as 10,000
fans to
its games, reaching the finals against the 71st Infantry Red Circlers,
representing General George Patton’s Third Army. One of Patton’s top
officers
assigned St. Louis Cardinals All-Star outfielder Harry Walker to
assemble a team.
Besides Walker, the Red Circlers included seven other major leaguers,
including
the Cincinnati Reds’ 6-foot-6 inch side-arm pitcher Ewell “The Whip”
Blackwell.
Few
people gave Nahem’s OISE All-Stars much chance to win the European
Theater of
Operations (ETO) championship, known as the GI World Series. It took
place in
September, a few months after the defeat of Germany.
They
played the first two games in Nuremberg, Germany, in the same stadium
where
Hitler had addressed Nazi Party rallies. Allied bombing had destroyed
the city
but somehow spared the stadium. The US Army laid out a baseball diamond
and
renamed the stadium Soldiers Field.
On
September 2, 1945, Blackwell pitched the Red Circlers to a 9-2 victory
in the
first game of the best-of-five series in front of 50,000 fans, most of
them
American soldiers. In the second game, Day held the Red Circlers to one
run.
Brown drove in the OISE’s team first run, and then Nahem (who was
playing first
base) doubled in the seventh inning to knock in the go-ahead run. OISE
won the
game, 2-1. Day struck out 10 batters, allowed four hits, and walked
only two
hitters.
The
teams flew to OISE’s
home field in Rheims for the next two games. The OISE team won the
third game,
as the Times reported,
“behind the brilliant pitching of
S/Sgt Sam Nahem,” who outdueled Blackwell to win 2-1, scattering four
hits and
striking out six batters.54 In
the fourth game,
the Third Army’s Bill Ayers, who had pitched in the minor leagues since
1937,
shut out the OISE squad, beating Day, 5-0.
The
teams returned to
Nuremberg for the deciding game on September 8, 1945. Nahem started for
the
OISE team in front of over 50,000 spectators. After the Red Circlers
scored a
run and then loaded the bases with one out in the fourth inning, Nahem
took
himself out and brought in Bob Keane, who got out of the inning without
allowing any more runs and completed the game. The OISE team won the
game,
2-1. The
Sporting News adorned its report on the final
game with a photo of Nahem.55
Back
in France, Brig.
Gen. Charles Thrasher organized a parade and a banquet dinner, with
steaks and
champagne, for the OISE All-Stars. As historian Robert Weintraub has
noted:
“Day and Brown, who would not be allowed to eat with their teammates in
many
major-league towns, celebrated alongside their fellow soldiers.”56
One
of
the intriguing aspects of this episode is that, despite the fact that
both
major-league baseball and the American military were racially
segregated, no
major newspaper even mentioned the historic presence of two
African-Americans
on the OISE roster. If there were any protests among the White players,
or
among the fans – or if any of the 71st Division’s officers raised
objections to
having African-American players on the opposing team – they were
ignored by
reporters. For example, an Associated Press story about the fourth game
simply
referred to “pitcher Leon Day of Newark.”
Although
Rickey knew Nahem when he played for the St. Louis Cardinals, it isn’t
known if
Rickey was aware of Nahem’s triumph over baseball segregation in the
military.
But in October 1945, a month after Nahem pitched his integrated team to
victory
in the European military championship, Rickey announced that Robinson
had
signed a contract with the Dodgers.
The
protest movement for baseball integration had set the stage for
Robinson’s
entrance into the major leagues.
PETER
DREIER is
the E.P. Clapp Distinguished Professor of Politics and founding chair
of the
Urban & Environmental Policy Department at Occidental College.
Notes
1 Broun
repeated his remarks
in his syndicated column. Heywood Broun, “It Seems to Me,” Pittsburgh Press,
February 9, 1933.
2 Chris
Lamb, Conspiracy
of Silence: Sportswriters and the Long Campaign to
Desegregate Baseball (Lincoln: University of Nebraska
Press,
2012), 5.
3 Robert
Ruck,
“Crossing the Color Line,” in Lawrence D. Hogan, editor, Shades of Glory:
The Negro Leagues and the Story of
African-American Baseball (Washington: National
Geographic,
2006), 327.
4 Gunnar
Myrdal, An
American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy (New
York: Harper & Brothers, 1944), 21.
5 The
protest
movement to integrate major-league baseball is discussed in Jules
Tygiel, Baseball’s
Great Experiment: Jackie Robinson and His Legacy (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1983); Lamb, Conspiracy of
Silence; Irwin
Silber, Press
Box Red: The Story of Lester Rodney, the Communist Who
Helped Break the Color Line in American Sports (Philadelphia:
Temple University Press, 2003); Lee Lowenfish, Branch
Rickey: Baseball’s Ferocious Gentleman (Lincoln:
University of
Nebraska Press, 2009); Arnold Rampersad, Jackie Robinson: A
Biography (New
York: Alfred Knopf, 1997); Kelly Rusinack, “Baseball on the Radical
Agenda: The
Daily Worker and Sunday Worker Journalistic Campaign to Desegregate
Major
League Baseball, 1933-1947,” in Joseph Dorinson and Joram Warmund,
eds., Jackie
Robinson: Race, Sports, and the American Dream (Armonk,
New York: M.E. Sharpe, 1998); David K. Wiggins, “Wendell Smith, The
Pittsburgh
Courier-Journal and the Campaign to Include Blacks in Organized
Baseball
1933-1945,” Journal of Sport
History, Vol. 10,
No. 2 (Summer 1983): 5-29; Henry Fetter, “The Party Line and the Color
Line:
The American Communist Party, the ‘Daily Worker,’ and Jackie Robinson,” Journal of Sport
History, Vol. 28, No. 3 (Fall
2001): 375-402.
6 This
discussion of
Wendell Smith relies on the following sources: Brian Carroll, “A
Crusading
Journalist’s Last Campaign: Wendell Smith and the Desegregation of
Baseball’s
Spring Training,” Communication and
Social Change 1
(2007): 38-54; Brian Carroll, “‘It Couldn’t Be Any Other Way’: The
Great
Dilemma for the Black Press and Negro League Baseball,” in Black Ball: A Negro
Leagues Journal 5 (2012):
5-23; Lamb, Conspiracy of
Silence; Chris Lamb,
“‘What’s Wrong With Baseball’: The Pittsburgh Courier and
the Beginning of its Campaign to Integrate the National Pastime,” The Western Journal
of Black Studies 26 (2002):
189-203; Ursula McTaggart, “Writing Baseball into History: The Pittsburgh Courier,
Integration, and Baseball in a War
of Position,” American Studies:
47 (2006):
113-132; Andrew Schall, “Wendell Smith: The Pittsburgh Journalist Who
Made
Jackie Robinson Mainstream,” Pittsburgh
Post-Gazette,
June 5, 2011; “Wendell Smith, Sportswriter, Jackie Robinson Booster,
Dies,” New
York Times, November 27, 1972; and Wiggins,
“Wendell Smith.”
7 Wendell
Smith,
“Smitty’s Sport Spurts: A Strange Tribe,” Pittsburgh Courier,
May 14, 1938: 17.
8 Wendell
Smith,
“‘I’ve Seen a Million!’ – Leo Durocher,” Pittsburgh Courier,
August 5, 1939: 16.
9 See,
for example, Wendell
Smith, “‘No Need for Color Ban in Big Leagues’ – Pie Traynor: These
Pirates
Rate Negro Players with Best in Major Leagues,” Pittsburgh
Courier, September 2, 1939: 16.
10 “Dizzy
Dean Rates ‘
Satch’ Greatest Pitcher,” Pittsburgh Courier,
September 24, 1938: 17.
11 Wendell
Smith,
“‘Would Be a Mad Scramble for Negro Players if Okayed’ – Hartnett:
Discrimination Has No Place in Baseball – These Cubs Agree,” Pittsburgh Courier,
August 12, 1939: 16; Chris Lamb,
“Baseball’s Whitewash: Sportswriter Wendell Smith Exposes Major League
Baseball’s Big Lie,” NINE,
Volume 18,
Number 1 (Fall 2009): 1-20.
12 The
Communist
Party’s involvement in the civil-rights and labor movements,
particularly
during the Depression, is discussed in Hosea Hudson and Nell Irvin
Painter, The Narrative of
Hosea Hudson, His Life As a Negro Communist in
the South (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979);
Robin
Kelley, Hammer
and Hoe: Alabama Communists During the Great Depression (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1990); Robert Korstad, Civil Rights
Unionism: Tobacco Workers and the Struggle for
Democracy in the Mid-Twentieth-Century South (Chapel
Hill:
University of North Caroline Press, 2003); August Meier and Elliott
Rudwick, Black Detroit and
the Rise of the UAW (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1981); Mark Naison, Communists in
Harlem During the
Depression (Champaign: University of Illinois Press,
2004); and
Mark Solomon, The Cry Was Unity:
Communists and African
Americans, 1917-36 (Jackson: University Press of
Mississippi,
1998).
13 “Batter
Up,” Daily
Worker, April 18, 1940.
14 “Labor
Union to
Protest Major League Color Ban at New York World Fair,” Pittsburgh Courier,
May 25, 1940: 16: “10,000 at Fair
Petition to End Baseball Jim Crow,” Daily Worker,
July
25, 1940.
15 John
McReynolds,
“Nate Moreland: A Mystery to Historians,” The National Pastime,
No. 19 (1999): 55-64.
16 Amy
Essington, The Integration of
the Pacific Coast League (Lincoln:
University of Nebraska Press, 2018), 36-37
17 Silber, Press Box Red,
151.
18 Tygiel, Baseball’s Great
Experiment, 37.
19 “
“Paige Beats Big
Leaguers,” Daily Worker, May
25, 1942.
20 Dave
Zirin, “An
Interview with ‘Red’ Rodney,” Counterpunch,
April
3, 2004. counterpunch.org/2004/04/03/an-interview-with-quot-red-quot-rodney.
21 “Dimaggio
Calls
Negro Greatest Pitcher,” Daily Worker,
September 13, 1937.
22 Silber, Press Box Red,
144.
23 Silber, Press Box Red,
144.
24 Silber, Press Box Red,
62.
25 Roy
Campanella, It’s Good to Be
Alive (Boston:
Little Brown and Company, 1959), 97-98.
26 Cited
in Lester
Rodney, “On the Scoreboard,” Daily Worker, April
3, 1950.
27 Jules
Tygiel, Extra
Bases (Lincoln, University of Nebraska
Press, 2002), 69.
28 Cited
in Ethan
Mitchell, The Defender: How
the Legendary Black
Newspaper Changed America (New York: Houghton Mifflin
Harcourt,
2016), 244.
29 James
G. Thompson,
“Should I Sacrifice to Live ‘Half-American?’” Pittsburgh Courier,
January 31, 1942: 3; Doron Goldman, “The Double Victory Campaign and
the
Campaign to Integrate Baseball,” in Marc Z Aaron and Bill Nowlin,
eds., Who’s
On First? Replacement Players in World War II (Phoenix:
SABR, 2015), 405-8. sabr.org/research/article/goldman-double-victory-campaign-and-campaign-integrate-baseball.
30 For
example: Fay
Young, “Challenge to the Big Leagues: Barring of Negro Players in Major
Leagues
Flouts Democratic Ideals of War,” Chicago Defender,
September 26, 1942.
31 “Labor
Calls On
Landis to Remove Color Ban in Major Leagues,” Pittsburgh Courier,
June 13, 1942: 15; “Seamen Demand Landis Lift Ban,” Daily Worker,
June 5, 1942; “Removal of Baseball
Jim-Crow Against Negroes Sought by Strong White Forces,” Atlanta Daily World,
June 7, 1942; “Organized Labor
Joins Fight on Major League Bias: Judge Landis Petitioned by Unions
2,000
Maritime Workers, Wholesalers Ask for Justice,” New York
Amsterdam News, June 13, 1942; “Color Ban In Baseball Hit by
Packinghouse Men,” Chicago Defender,
July 11, 1942.
32 “Czar
Landis Denies
Rule Against Negroes in Majors,” Austin Statesman,
July 17, 1942; “You May Hire All Negro Players, No Ban Exists, Landis
Tells Durocher,” New York Herald
Tribune, July 17, 1942.
33 “Drive
on Jim Crow
Gains Momentum,” Sunday Worker,
June 28, 1942.
34 “No
Baseball Rule
Against Hiring Negroes – Landis,” Elmira (New
York) Star-Gazette, July
17, 1942; Henry D. Fetter, “The
Party Line and the Color Line: The American Communist Party, the Daily Worker and
Jackie Robinson,” Journal of Sport
History, 28 (Fall 2001): 375-402;
Henry D. Fetter, “From ‘Stooge’ to ‘Czar’: Judge Landis, the Daily
Worker and
the Integration of Baseball,” American Communist
History,
6:1 (2007): 29-63.
35“Landis
Denies Audience
to Negro Group,” Detroit Free Press,
December 4,
1942; “CIO’s Request to Ask Majors to Hire Negroes Turned Down,” Hartford Courant, December
4, 1942; “Landis
Rebuffs Plea for Negro Play in Majors: Asks Fair Play for Ball
Stars/Bob
Considine, Famous White Sports Writer, Urges Negro Players Be Given
Their
Chance,” New York Amsterdam
Star-News, December 12, 1942.
36 “Wrigley
Sees
‘Negroes in Big Leagues Soon’: Cubs’ Owner Says It Has ‘Got To
Come’/Would Put
Negro Player on His Team if Fans Demanded Same,” Chicago Defender, December
26, 1942; Lamb, Conspiracy of
Silence, 218-221.
37 “Send
Resolution on
Negroes in Major Baseball To FDR,” Chicago Defender,
February 20, 1943; Lamb, Conspiracy of
Silence,
221.
38 Wiggins,
“Wendell
Smith,” 21.
39 Lamb, Conspiracy of
Silence, 235.
40 Silber, Press Box Red, 83;
Martin Duberman, Paul Robeson (New
York: The New Press, 1995),
282-283.
41 Wendell
Smith,
“Publishers Place Case of Negro Players Before Big League Owners: Judge
Landis
Says No Official Race Ban Exists in Majors,” Pittsburgh Courier,
December 11, 1943: 1; “Robeson Sees Labor as Salvation of Negro Race:
Praises
CIO Plan to Better Racial Conditions Here,” Pittsburgh Courier,
December 25, 1943: 11.
42 Ric
Roberts,
“Chandler’s Views on Player Ban Sought: New Czar Must Face Bias
Issue,” Pittsburgh
Courier, May 5, 1945: 12.
43 “Two
Negroes Are
Tried Out by the Dodgers but They Fail to Impress President
Rickey,” New York Times,
April 8, 1945.
44 Tygiel, Baseball’s Great
Experiment, 69.
45 Ron
Fimrite, “Sam
Lacy: Black Crusader a Resolute Writer Helped Bring Change To
Sports,” Sports Illustrated,
October 29, 1990.
46 Bill
Nowlin, Tom
Yawkey: Patriarch of the Boston Red Sox (Lincoln:
University of Nebraska Press, 2018); Bill Nowlin, ed., Pumpsie &
Progress: The Red Sox, Race, and Redemption (Burlington,
Massachusetts: Rounder Books, 2010).
47 There
is some
dispute about this. Veeck wrote about his plans, and Landis’s and
Frick’s
efforts to thwart them, in his biography, Veeck as in Wreck.
A
1998 article claimed that Veeck’s intention to buy the Phillies in
order to
integrate baseball is simply not true. See Larry Gerlach, David Jordan,
and
John Rossi, “A Baseball Myth Exploded: Bill Veeck and the 1943 Sale of
the
Phillies,” The National Pastime,
Vol. 18
(1998). sabr.org/research/article/a-baseball-myth-exploded-bill-veeck-and-the-1943-sale-of-the-phillies/. The
eminent baseball historian Jules Tygiel rejected Gerlach, Jordan, and
Rossi’s
claims. See Jules Tygiel, “Revisiting Bill Veeck and the 1943
Phillies,” Baseball Research
Journal, Volume 35 (2007):
109-114. research.sabr.org/journals/files/SABR-Baseball_Research_Journal-35.pdf.
In
his biography of Veeck, Paul Dickson makes the case that Veeck’s
version of the
story is true. Paul Dickson, Bill Veeck:
Baseball’s Greatest
Maverick (New York: Walker & Company, 2012), 79-83,
356-366.
48 Dickson, Bill Veeck,
79.
49 Bill
Veeck with Ed
Linn, Veeck
– As In Wreck (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons,
1962); Dickson, Bill Veeck,
80.
50 Bill
Veeck with Ed
Linn, Veeck
– As In Wreck; Peggy Beck, “Working in the
Shadows of Rickey and Robinson: Bill Veeck, Larry Doby, and the
Advancement of
Black Players in Baseball,” in Peter M. Rutkoff, ed., The
Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture, 1997 (Jefferson,
North Carolina: McFarland and Company, 2000).
51 This
draws on my
profile of Sam Nahem: Peter Dreier, “Sam Nahem,” Society for
American Baseball Research, n.d., sabr.org/bioproj/person/focoboef; and
Peter Dreier,
“Sam Nahem: The Right-Handed Lefty Who Integrated Military Baseball in
World
War II,” in William M. Simons, ed., The Cooperstown
Symposium on
Baseball and American Culture, 2017-2018 (Jefferson,
North
Carolina: McFarland & Company, 2019).
52 Joe
Eskenazi,
“Artful Dodger: Baseball’s ‘Subway’ Sam Strikes Out Batters, and With
the
Ladies Too,” J Weekly,
October 23, 2003. jweekly.com/article/full/20827/artful-dodger.
53 Quoted
in Jackie
Robinson, Baseball Has Done It (Philadelphia:
Lippincott, 1964), 105.
54 “Oise
Nine Beats
Third Army,” New York Times,
September 6, 1945.
55 All
Stars Win
European Title in GI Playoff,” The Sporting News,
September 13, 1945: 12.
56 Robert
Weintraub, The Victory Season:
The End of World War II
and the Birth of Baseball’s Golden Age (New York:
Little Brown
& Co., 2013).