I read an autobiography of a great baseball player, 1919-1972 was his lifespan. Indeed, he died at a young age, but during his lifespan here on the planet, he made proud of him the Brooklyn Dodgers for many baseball seasons.
During the beginning years of his baseball career with the Dodgers, the opposing teams would scream loud and long four-letter words at him. To be certain, he wanted to beat up those players on the opposing teams, yet he sucked it up.
He was inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame in 1962 after his retirement from that great American pastime, major league baseball.
Indeed, he made all people stand up and take notice of his superior play on the field, a second baseman, as well as an excellent hitter.
He was truly an all-around great baseball player—to be remembered for posterity. Indeed, since 1972, he has been no longer with us, albeit his memory shall never be forgotten.
He was not a Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., for his life was not given to nonviolent resistance.
Instead, he was a fighter for his rights on and off the baseball diamond, quick at all times to assert himself, even to the point of being contentious.
He was a great ballplayer, not a devotee of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, albeit supportive of it. Forty-two was the number on his Brooklyn Dodgers baseball uniform. I have not forgotten his name, and neither have you.
Dr. Robert W. Burton