Legacy of a Lifetime (Part 2) :: EARLY YEARS

   As I stated earlier, it was late last night whenever I started to write down some of dad's thoughts and story.  I was getting tired and sleepy, so we delayed it until this morning. I'm not sure that I'm any more rested now (!), but I'm going to attempt to relate a couple of stories.

EARLY YEARS

   My dad grew up on a farm, the youngest of six children, son of a working 'single' mom. Grandmother Wingate was still legally married, but her husband was a traveling salesman and wasn't home a lot, and at some point, he and my grandmother decided for him to leave.  So my dad's memories of his dad are few.  He said that the only two things that his dad gave him were a violin and a pen.  So, his Mom had a heavy load with so many kids, and she worked multiple jobs and ran a farm to help support them.

   Dad was originally from South Carolina, and lived in quite a few different towns and cities.  He was born in Bishopville, and also lived in Sumter and Chester, and later briefly in Charleston and Camden.  He started first grade school in Hillcrest, where they lived on a farm, and then moved to Sumter to finish grade school.

BASEBALL OR BUST

DAD HAD A PASSION FOR PLAYING BASEBALL

   Dad split his high school years in Chester, SC and Statesville, NC.  At Chester, in the 7th grade, a friend told my dad he was going out for baseball, and prodded him to come along to tryouts.  My dad was relunctant at first, but the idea grew on him, and so he went along, and ended up making the team as a third string third baseman.  Keep in mind that back then, there was no Junior High or Middle School.  The high school also included grades 7-8.  My dad was one of the few seventh graders to make the varsity high school baseball team.  He was also one of the fastest players on the team.  At 5'11 and 125 lbs., he was thin and scrawny, but he could also outrace just about anyone. 

   Dad played for a coach named Al Sheely, whose career included a short pro baseball career, one year each with the New York Yankees and the Chicago Cubs.  Even though it was brief, his pro stint with the Yankees happened to be in 1927, when they won the World Series.  He was a teammate of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.  Coach Sheely once told my dad, "Don't give up on baseball.  You could make it to the pros one day."  At third base, my Dad had to break immediately on a hit ball, chase it down, catch it, and simultaneously whip it to first base.  Dad's coach really believed in him, saying, "You've got a great right arm. I'm gonna make a pitcher out of you someday."

   By ninth grade, Dad had worked his way up to being part of the road team.  He remembers one instance, in a road game, in which the starting third baseman went down with an injury.  The second stringer went in, and shortly thereafter, he also went out.  Dad was the only third baseman left, so he went into the game.  Excited but nervous, he finished out the rest of the game.  Dad said that he had plenty of experience going in to a game for a few innings, but he had never before played an entire game.

   The coach had a drill that really showcased my dad's speed.  A batter would line up at home plate, and a pitcher would throw the ball.  The batter was instructed to try to hit a fly ball into the outfield.  Another player would line up next to the batter, and when the ball was hit, he would sprint into the outfield and try to catch the ball before it hit the ground.  My dad says that he was the only one on the team who could catch the ball every single time. He was incredibly fast as a teenage athlete.  Some people that I've told this to have questioned whether this could be true.  But I totally believe my dad's story. I'm not sure who else could perform this feat;  maybe Bo Jackson in his prime.  

   Then in about the 10th grade, something strange happened that would not only impact my dad's baseball career, but also the rest of his life.  One afternoon, a coach blew his whistle signaling that practice was over.  Everyone was supposed to toss all of the bats and balls into a pile, and head to the locker room.  This particular day, one of dad's teammates yelled out to a friend, and tossed a baseball to him.  His friend had a baseball bat in his hand, and instinctively drew it back and swung at the ball. 

   That baseball changed the path of my dad's future.  The line drive only traveled a few feet before it hit my dad in the right temple, knocking him out cold.  After a few minutes, he was revived, but was incredibly dazed and groggy.  Dad says that during that time, he would wear dark glasses and go into a theater, not so much to watch a movie, but to find a place that wouldn't hurt his eyes.  Dad's eyesight in that eye is now about 20/1800.  He has a hard time even seeing a person across a room without his glasses.  It is almost impossible for him to read anything that is not directly in front of him.

LAST MAN OUT

   As dad grew up, being the youngest of six kids, brothers and sisters began growing up, going to work, getting married, and moving away from home.  About the time my dad graduated from high school, his last brother got married, and left him the only child at home.  Soon afterwards, my dad joined the Air Force, and also moved away.

   Dad and his family moved when he was around 16 to Statesville, NC and he finished the final two years of high school and graduated there in the Class of '49.