Monday, October 15, 2012

In Great Admiration and Respect

Today, in the warmth of a delightful fall afternoon, I started out in search of that one fall splash of color that say, "here, it's not New England but it can be from time to time almost as perfect." Last year, I found it in a patch of woods beneath the dam at White Rock  in the old fish hatchery stands. It was every bit as pretty as I've seen in New England, which is hard to wrap my mind around while remembering that while there are stands of maple trees in Texas, they are many,many miles away from the Dallas area. But every fall, I begin the annual search.

My mother, as a little girl, had grown up with some pretty famous names in baseball coming around. She was nearly 80 before I was able to find out that she had been a Dodgers fan and even rooted for the Yankees a few times. On the other hand, I had grown up on the St. Louis Cardinals and later the Detroit Tigers, but I did know the big names of the day even if they played for the opposing teams. Thinking back now, I had shoe boxes of baseball cards. and mom was hard to beat in answering questions about facts printed on the cards. This really was a side of my mom that I wish that I had understood more then than I do today, but thankful I heard her tell some of the stories when she was growing up.

Yet, when I start out on a shooting trip, the trips are pretty much routed out in a circuit and it follows the events and on-going construction, openings, discoveries of new projects starting or seasonal event. The shoot schedule isn't that large of a schedule but it does have to consider car or train, walks or doctor's appointments , shopping or living in general. The price of gas has cut down on a lot of travel by car and the trains have been a good back-up, but  sometimes, there is that magnetic-like pull that causes you to follow your instincts. Today, although it didn't start out that way, ended up that way and I'm happy that it did.  Mom was a rather self-contained person that would be like an earthquake that she knew or even had a friendship with some people. But, the proof was in the pudding as they say and she usually came out on top in that department. Yet, even today, I pay respect  to the dearly departed  when I can. After paying tribute to one of mom's -never-would-have-guessed friends, I decided that I would go in search of one of my boyhood idols that was in the same cemetery and not very far from where I stood while visiting one of mom's friends.


The plaques on the crypts of Mickey Mantle and his wife.
The two boys are in crypts below their dad.

Note the rows of copper (pennies) stacked up from visitors to the crypt. The two that I found most interesting were the stone and the bent nail. Stones are usually a Jewish tradition left after a visit. The bend nail, I am not sure, but it has it's significances most certainly.

The American Flag stands in the corner of the private crypt area where Mickey is entombed.
It is with much respect and admiration that I post these images in the love for the sport, the players, the institution that baseball is to so many. Mickey, you were my hero in baseball.
 

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