I am nearly half way through my 36 day road trip and I think it is time to check in. I am writing from upstate New York where we have enjoyed a joyous time in New England. Truly, I had no idea how much I would enjoy this part of the world. Today we are treated to a VIP experience at the Saratoga Race Track, courtesy of our son in—law Dale. Tomorrow we get to worship with a former organist at South Broadway CC, who is the music director at St Peter’s in Albany. Can’t wait to see Dan again.
Yesterday it was the Baseball Heaven at the Hall of Fame at Cooperstown—it did not disappoint. Baseball was my first love. Growing up in post WWII Pueblo we were graced with the Double A farm team— The Pueblo Dodgers— for 12 years. When I was four I knew most of the rules of baseball, and I can still remember the smell of cigars and beer as I accompanied my dad many times to Runyon Field. Many a major leaguer came right through Pueblo on their way to the BIGS. My favorite sections were the 50’s and 60’s. Yes there was even a large section called “This is where your baseball cards went that your mom sold at a garage sale”.
I was watching a black and white replay of the game 7 1960 World Series walk—off home run by Bill Mazeroski of the Pirates to beat the Yankees. I was having a delightful conversation with a couple from Boston who were wearing the Red Sox gear and had a beautiful memory about that particular game.
“It was my 6th grade year and I talked my mom into letting me stay home and watch the game with her. She did it. We sat on the couch together in the living room watching the black and white Crosley beam out the World Series. In those days there were no Series night games. The game was tied 9 to 9 and in the bottom of the 9th Maz, who was not known for home runs, hit the walk off winner. The Yankees lost—as a Dodger fan I despised the Yankees”. The Boston couple loved the story. “We weren’t born yet but we have heard about it”.
I thought all day about my sweet mom who conspired with her son to play hooky and share in the game. The Hall of Fame is about memories… thousands of them. A very wise man told me, “Mark, in life you finally only have experiences and relationships”. I heard him very clearly. My parents were the best at both. As I walked though my 70–some years of baseball memories I was flooded with both emotions and gratitude.
In two weeks I will be in Maine and then I will have experienced all 50 states, a goal inspired by parents—thanks Mom and Dad for peanuts and popcorn and Cracker Jacks.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 