I wish I knew his name. He was our mailman when I was growing up. He used to come up onto our porch and sit with me every once in a while and tell me the stories of playing in the negro leagues against Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson and some others I had never heard of at the time and have since forgotten. But I can vividly remember sitting there on the porch, my mom or dad would get him a glass of lemonade. Usually I was probably playing stickball or wiffle ball or catch in the front yard...so he just took a break and would talk to me about playing back in the day. I wish I could remember more of the particulars of what he said, but I was maybe 6 or 7 at the time. I just remember how fascinated I was about what he was telling me. And what a good, kind man he was.
Tom
|