1972. I was 12 years old.

Event 1 – Little League Baseball, 1971 vs 1972

In the Fall of 1971 Alabama had their first black football player

That Spring of 1972 was the first year my black friends could be on the same baseball team with me. (One famous MLBer and another 4th round draft pick in the pictures – we were pretty good)

And School

Timeline: Race and schools in Huntsville

“1970 – Singleton v. Jackson – The U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals that oversees Alabama orders the immediate desegregation of all schools.

1970 – Hereford v. Huntsville Board – The U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Alabama provides Huntsville its own desegregation plan, one modeled on the Singleton order. Huntsville has to immediately desegregate teaching staffs.

1971 – Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg County Board of Education – The U.S. Supreme Court approves busing, racial quotas and gerrymandering school districts as tools for eliminating state-imposed segregation.

1974 – Huntsville begins forced busing to desegregate four elementary schools in northwest Huntsville – University Place, Cavalry Hill, Montview and Highlands. The busing proves a catalyst for white flight to south Huntsville. The practice doesn’t last 10 years.”

The Cotton Mill Village I grew up in was in SouthWest Huntsville. Not a diverse community. I knew most of the people in this video, did work for some,

I grew up in Alabama in the 1960s and 1970s. I saw hate up close and personal. I learned to hate hate.

My Dad and My Papa, in their wheelchairs, were at every one of my Little League games, sitting behind the backstop.

Every May, when the willow flies are out, we have a huge fish fry in our neighborhood. This leads to..

Event 2 – Papa says he is sorry

We would take some john boats and go to a local lake and catch bream, crappie and bluegill. Moms cleaned the fish and dads and moms fried the fish. Mom made some awesome banana pudding and my best friend of 63 years now’s Mom made some amazing potato salad. That year, for the fish fry, Papa told me to invite all my baseball friends.

I said “All of them?” Papa was a bigot. He hated black people. We lived in Papa’s house. My black friends had never been in my yard! I went to my black friend’s houses and told them Papa told me to invite them. They thought I was kidding. I convinced them I wasn’t. They came!

Did I mention Dad and Papa’s wheelchairs? Dad was dying of lung cancer. Papa’s legs had been amputated from circulation problems and injuries from mustard gas in World War 1. The local baseball park had plaques from each war. Papa was on WW1. Dad was on Korea. I remember this day like a movie in my mind. Papa was on the porch in his wheelchair. He told my black friends he was sorry. Tears were rolling down his face. He was born in 1895. He was 77 years old and telling my black friends he had been wrong his whole life. He saw how we all played together and loved each other and he told them how he loved rooting for them and the sad thing, he told them, was one of his favorite players on TV was Walt “No Neck” Williams of the White Sox, even though he was Cardinals fan (KMOX radio) and loved Bob Gibson and Mudcat Grant.

After that day my black friends could play basketball in my yard, with the floodlights Dad had installed a few years earlier and we had music from my Longines Symphonette stereo speakers in my second floor window. Two events down. Integrating my baseball team (and myschool) and Papa on the porch. Three more to go. We had 2 weeks off between our Little League Playoff tournaments (we ended up 2 games short of going to Williamsport) in early June. Dad loved camping. We had a trailer to hold our huge tent, Coleman grill and lantern, and other stuff. Dad was sick from his cancer. (He would pass away in August) so this was going to be Dad’s last camping trip. The extended family and friends went. We camped on Guntersville Lake. Uncle Bud brought his gooseneck camper but Dad wanted to be in his tent.

Event 3 Aunt (name withheld but everyone that knew me then knows her name).

My younger sister’s float had drifted off the bank. We were camped at a large sandbar. Mom asked me to get her float. I started wading out to get it. I got closer and closer and close. Then oops!

I ran out of sandbar. I was in the lake. I was far from shore. I wasn’t a very good swimmer. Mom started coming in to get me. She wasn’t a very good swimmer either. I started doing the math. Papa told me stories of how sailors drowned because people they were trying to save would panic and drown them too. I remember that story because a young man (older teenager) had started swimming to me from down the shore. He was a lot better swimmer than Mom! Math got better. He got to me. I let him grab me. He saved my life.

That wasn’t Event 3. That came the next day. Dad was lying down in the tent. I was sitting outside the tent listening to a baseball game on the radio. Most folks were at the campground place playing horseshoes and tetherball (remember tetherball?) The young man that had saved my life came to check on me. We spoke for a few minutes. Dad shook his hand and thanked him for saving my life. As he was leaving, he asked Aunt (name withheld) if he could ‘borrow’ a couple of tomatoes. In her usual “Aunt _____” hateful voice she said “We just have enough for ourselves!” The kid looked shocked and walked off. I was so mad! I ran to find Mom. I told Mom what happened. Mom said about 20 cuss words. We went back to camp. Mom grabbed a wicker basket and put several tomatoes in it and told me to go find him. It took me a while but I found him. Event 3 taught me to be selfless, not selfish. I AM famous for that. I am two Hall of Fames for being that way. https://limbaugh2020.com/yes-i-am-in-a-hall-of-fame/ “hell would freeze over before any competitor”… In 30 years, I never lost a customer.

Second Hall of Fame?

Event 4? Dad’s funeral.

I grew up in a Southern Baptist family. A Southern Baptist Church. It was 1972. Funeral was at the Church. My baseball coaches and teammates came to the funeral. Mom and I got dirty looks from some of the folks in the church. Can you guess why? My black friends were there!

Event 5 – Rennie Ellett, my first baseball coach.

When I was 10, Rennie Ellett was my Little League Baseball Coach. A young man. Good man. When I was 11 an 10 year old lefthanded pitcher and shortstop came to the team. His dad was our new coach. Coach’s name was James Key. His son was named Jimmy. Alabama Sports Hall of Fame member, Clemson Hall of Fame Member, Member of the New York Yankees Top 100.

After Dad died, Coach Ellett would come by the neighborhood and take my friends and myself to the local ball park to play ball. I will never forget that. I have been blessed to be exposed to some awesome people. From all my great bosses over the years, to amazing family and friends.

My best friend of 63 years, (I was born on January 3rd 1960, he was born on May 28th, 1960, we became friends June 1st of 1960) Stevie adds:

“I just saw someone else mention tether ball…been years since I thought of that…loved tether ball… Coach Ellett was a big influence in “paying attention”, saying the Prayer before practice and hit the pole if you weren’t paying attention. Your dad taught me to play catcher and the love of playing baseball Our life wasn’t always easy but we were blessed.”

Stevie and I made each other promise when we were little that we would always hate hate.

My awesome Dad:

My Amazing Mom:

I am old

I was 8 in 1968

Thank you for reading my blog.