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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Steve Christilaw: Apology to Jackie Robinson’s family a good start

A 1953 Topps baseball card No. 1 of Jackie Robinson, pictured, is one of Christilaw’s prized possessions. (FILE The Spokesman-Review)

One of my most prized possessions is locked away in storage while we’re building a house, but once that’s accomplished, it will take its place on a shelf in my not-yet-built study.

Officially, it’s the 1953 Topps baseball card No. 1. To me, it’s Jackie Robinson in the prime of his career.

Jackie Robinson had been retired for a year by the time I was born. But I knew enough about him to idolize him.

We didn’t use the word “icon” much when I was a kid. But this man was all of that and more. He was a hero and a hall of famer.

We knew his story. How he broke the color barrier in major league baseball in 1947. My other heroes – Orlando Cepeda, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Roberto Clemente, Maury Wills, Ernie Banks – all owed their careers to Jackie Robinson.

I read books about his life while I was growing up. The clip of him stealing home in the World Series was burned into my memory, and the pictures of him smiling at the camera were all the more memorable by my young understanding of just what he went through.

I believed early on that the strain of breaking the color barrier in baseball took years off Robinson’s life. How could it not?

But it wasn’t until I saw the movie “42” that the ugliness that Jackie Robinson faced every day hit home.

There is a scene of the Dodgers making their first trip to Philadelphia in Robinson’s rookie year. In it, Phillies manager Ben Chapman, played by Alan Tudyk, savagely taunts Robinson in the most racist manner possible.

It made me sick to my stomach to see it played out in a movie. I can only imagine what it was like for Jackie Robinson to endure it in person.

My respect and admiration for the restraint he showed in the face of what I consider to be the ugliest use of the English language imaginable grew immeasurably. And so did the undercurrent of shame that comes with knowing that kind of racism still exists. It’s just gotten less overt when it rears its ugly head.

Philadelphia has always had a reputation for being a tough sports town. It’s famous for booing Santa Claus during a season finale for the Eagles. And it famously cheered when Michael Irvin of the hated Dallas Cowboys suffered a career-ending injury. Veteran’s Stadium is famous as the only ballpark to have its own jail, courtroom and judge in residence.

So imagine my surprise when the Philadelphia City Council, 69 years after Robinson broke in with the Brooklyn Dodgers, offered an apology.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one to have that reaction to that gut-wrenching scene.

Helen Gym felt the same way. As a member of the Philadelphia City Council, she was determined to do something about it.

“Philadelphia was one of the most disappointing places where he experienced racism,” she told a local website. “And I felt like it was important for City Council to acknowledge that, to acknowledge a great man. And that sometimes can start with an apology.”

Gym’s resolution passed, and she presented it at a gathering at the Philadelphia Stars Negro League Memorial Park. Among those in attendance was Carolyn Mitchell, 79, who watched Robinson play as a young girl.

Mitchell, who is black, said that the resolution helped bring back fond memories of watching baseball growing up – and especially fond memories of watching Robinson play in the 1950s.

Gym said the apology will be presented to Jackie’s widow, Rachel Robinson.

It’s encouraging that a municipal government would recognize a dark page from its own history and move to make amends. But it’s discouraging to see that racism still exists.

So maybe, just maybe, it’s a start.

Steve Christilaw can be reached at steve.christilaw@ gmail.com.