Willie Stargell

by Frank Garland

  Several hundred fans attended the April 7 unveiling, including Mike Schwab, an ambulance driver from Greenfield and a Pirates season-ticket holder. “He was my childhood idol,” Schwab said of Stargell. “I hope he can make a full recovery. I was born in 1970 and when I met him, I had him sign his 1970 baseball card for me.” Several Pirate luminaries attended the unveiling, including Tanner and even Vera Clemente, the widow of the Pirates legendary right fielder. Susan Wagner, the statue’s sculptor, said she used old photographs and film of Stargell as well as vintage uniforms and bats to craft the statue, which took her a year to complete at the Polich Artworks Foundry in upstate New York. Tanner approved of the final product. “That’s just how he held the bat!” he exclaimed.2 Schwab, meanwhile, couldn’t contain his emotion. “I can’t say much,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”3 Tanner, too, was almost moved to tears. “Time goes so fast,” he said as he walked away from the statue. “Why won’t time stand still so we can still watch Willie play?”4

  Fans like Schwab who idolized Stargell were the rule, rather than the exception, in Pittsburgh. He might have been the most beloved figure in the city’s sports history until Mario Lemieux came along with the NHL Penguins. As such, Stargell was the recipient of thousands of letters from fans during his 21-year playing career. The Pirate offices maintain copies of some of those letters as well as the responses that Stargell provided. Tom O’Toole, who lived in North Braddock, sent Stargell a letter in October 1973 thanking him for a photograph that the slugger had sent to a Kenny Condon. O’Toole’s letter included a lucky Irish coin. “I don’t know what it is, but it is straight from Ireland and I understand it is a lucky piece.... May this coin bring you good luck and keep your confidence in yourself.”

  Robert Curran, of Snyder, New York, wrote that same season and asked Stargell if he had some sort of a musical tune in mind when he stood in the batter’s box and windmilled his bat prior to the pitcher’s delivery. “I have no ‘tune’ in mind in doing the exercises I go through when I step into the batter’s box,” Stargell wrote. “The muscles in my arm have a tendency to tighten up when I’m waiting for the pitch, so I move my arms to relax before the pitcher throws the ball.” Near the end of Stargell’s career, Carol Senger Korynta wrote Pirates public relations director Joe Safety on behalf of her grandmother, Annie Senger, who at 90 years of age was a devoted Pirates fan and in need of “a little cheer to her day.” Stargell responded, in his graceful handwriting: “Dear Mrs. Senger, It has come to my attention that you are one of America’s biggest Pirate fans. I sure hope that you will continue to lend us your support and devotion. After winning the championship in 1979 and then coming up short last year, I know which one I like the best! We have every intention of reclaiming the championship in 1981 and we will need your continued support to do it. My very best wishes to you and may God Bless you! Warmly, Willie Stargell.”

  In some cases, Stargell did more than just write letters to fans—he forged friendships with them. Ned Sokoloff was in his early 30s when he came to know Stargell through his relationship with Stargell’s attorney, David Litman. Sokoloff was given access to Stargell behind the scenes—riding with Stargell in the latter’s white Rolls Royce at spring training in Bradenton, serving as the official photographer during the first Willie Stargell Day in 1980, coming and going through the Pirate clubhouse. “Those years were like magic to me,” Sokoloff said in a 2008 interview. “Willie was a living legend but if you knew him like I knew him, he was like a normal guy. He made me feel like I belonged. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be a celebrity. When he walked into [Litman’s] law firm, all the girls in the office would get out of their seats to take a peek at him. Just to gaze upon him. But behind it all, he had to deal with life just like everyone else. He had family issues, financial situations just like everyone else. He was so involved with things. He had a lot going on with his sickle cell anemia foundation—he was dealing with all this charity work. He had 15 plates spinning.”5

  A 12-foot bronze statue honoring Willie was unveiled to the public just days before the opening of PNC Park in Pittsburgh—the same day that the slugger died (courtesy Pittsburgh Pirates).

  Sokoloff was among thousands of season-ticket holders who turned out on the morning of April 9, 2001, for the much-anticipated opening of PNC Park. But the day would be a bittersweet one for all involved—fans, players, front office workers and anyone else with a soft spot in their heart for the Pirates. Stargell, the mountain of a man who so many times carried the team on his back and willed them to win with the force of his personality and the whoosh of his left-handed swing, died just after midnight—12:23 A.M.—at New Hanover Regional Medical Center in Wilmington. He had suffered a stroke in his brain stem, which resulted from complications of long-standing high blood pressure, heart failure and kidney failure. Stargell’s physician, Dr. James McCabe, said that Stargell—who had been on dialysis since 1996—had been admitted to the hospital on February 23 and was recovering from gall bladder surgery when his health deteriorated. “He fought a courageous battle against heart failure and high blood pressure for the past four years with the help of a team of nephrologists, physicians, highly skilled nurses and rehab specialists,” McCabe said in a statement released by the hospital. “Despite our best efforts, he suffered an acute stroke and died peacefully this morning with his wife and family at his side.” McCabe said Stargell suffered from hypertension and that it affected not only his kidneys and heart, but the blood vessels in his brain. “So it becomes a multi-organ problem, as it did with Willie, despite the care he received, and the care he took of himself.”

  McCabe said more than two years before Stargell’s death, hypertension had led to damage of the blood supply to Stargell’s bowel, and so part of it was removed in an operation at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. Given Stargell’s other health issues, the surgery was risky, and McCabe said Stargell nearly died. “To this day, I consider it a miracle that he survived,” he said.6 McCabe said in a hospital press release that Stargell was receiving dialysis treatments three times a week and while that is a difficult regimen for many, Stargell “just adjusted, accepted it as ‘it’s part of my life, and I’m going to make the best of it.’” McCabe said Stargell’s athleticism certainly helped him through the last four years of his life, as did being in good shape and exercising. “I suspect he fought battles all of his life, and he approached this the same way,” McCabe said. “He just had this charisma that it would be okay.”

  Frances Weller, the sister of Stargell’s wife, Margaret, issued a statement on behalf of the family through the New Hanover Health Network. “While the world has lost a hero, the Weller family has lost a friend. And certainly Margaret has lost her best friend.” Frances Weller called Stargell “the finest human being I’ve ever known. And my sister was very lucky to have been married to a man like Willie. Those who were fortunate enough to get to know Willie were blessed. In the last few months, Willie didn’t want to give up. It was as though his life went into extra innings. But this morning, the lights went out in his stadium.”

  The news reached Pittsburgh in a heartbeat; McClatchy had been on the phone with Margaret Weller twice that night. When McClatchy got word that Stargell had passed, he contacted Bonifay. “It kind of reverberated through the organization,” Bonifay recalled. “The opening of the ballpark was something that the city of Pittsburgh was looking forward to and we were very hopeful Willie was going to be able to come to that opening. It was a day of mixed emotions. It was a beautiful opening on a beautiful day in Pittsburgh, which is sometimes hard to get at that time of the year. Sunny skies, a brand new place and the sadness of knowing that one of our great ones had passed away. The mental and emotional dilemma of going through that day was one I’ll never forget. Chuck Tanner and I talked about it as we walked around the new ballpark and walked up to Willie’s statue. It was a sad day and a happy day all in one.”

  Blass, Stargell’s former teammate and later a Pir
ate broadcaster, recalled the death of another Hall of Fame Pirate when he heard the news about Stargell’s passing. “When we heard about [Roberto] Clemente’s death at 4 o’clock in the morning, I went to Willie’s house,” Blass said. “I’m not sure where to go this morning.”7

  The tributes began pouring in for Stargell, and they continued flowing for weeks. On the day he died, scores of fans gathered at Stargell’s statue, having their photographs taken and leaving flowers and other items at the foot of the 12-foot bronze structure. A placard sitting near the base of Stargell’s left foot read, “We kiss you goodbye,” referring to Prince’s famous home run call on Pirates broadcasts through much of Stargell’s career. “He was probably my first baseball hero growing up,” said Glenn Winegardner, 39, of Gaithersburg, Maryland. “Pops was the man, all through the ’70s. He was the Pittsburgh Pirates. He epitomized the Pirates.”8

  Several of the 2001 Pirate players talked about Stargell’s presence within the organization. “Every word out of his mouth, you listened to,” said the catcher Kendall, whose father, Fred, spent 12 seasons in the big leagues and had specifically told his son to soak in as much of Stargell’s wisdom as he could. “That was the type of aura he had about him. He taught me a lot about the game.” Kendall admitted that the excitement of opening the new ballpark, coupled with the news of Stargell’s death, made for a most unusual day. “It’s really strange—it’s a weird feeling,” he said. Pirates manager Lloyd McClendon said Stargell had encouraged him to apply for the managerial job, telling him that he had all the necessary ingredients to become a big-league skipper. “So much of Willie is inside of me,” McClendon said on Opening Day. “There is so much passion and love for the game that he instilled in me.”9 McClendon, whose team lost that home opener 8–2 to Cincinnati, said that he and Stargell talked a lot—and many times it wasn’t about the current game. “We would talk about how the game had changed so much for young black players, the wonderful opportunities it presents for minorities today. Willie had a lot to do with that. I’m here today because of him in a lot of ways.”10 McClendon said he would remember many things that Stargell told him, but maybe the most important thing he heard Stargell say was, “Respect the game, but have fun.”11

  Savran recalled that Opening Day as a “horribly sad day. I remember going to the TV studio and doing a long pregame show, then I went to the office next to PNC Park and that’s when I found out. It put a terrible, somber mood on the entire day. I remember standing in front of the Pirate dugout doing this pregame show and I remember hearing an audible gasp go through the crowd when they announced it. It was terribly sad. Lanny Frattare was conducting the ceremony—they had a tribute prepared. The Pirates knew how ill he was, but I did not. I remember Lanny’s voice breaking as he was reading that stuff.”12 Savran said he and other media members were aware that Stargell had been hospitalized and was dealing with some serious health issues “but I don’t know that any of us knew how serious. And I don’t think any of us knew he was near death.”

  From the other side of the country, where Stargell spent the bulk of his boyhood learning the game, more tributes came. Morgan, the East Bay native who was overlooked by the Pirates as an amateur and traded by the Houston Astros before going on to have a Hall of Fame career with the Reds, called Stargell “a very special individual, not just a great baseball player. No one disliked Willie Stargell. He was a player’s player and the greatest teammate ever, from what I hear from his teammates. One of the things lacking in my life is that I was never his teammate.” Morgan called Stargell “the greatest leader of men I ever knew.”13

  At Encinal High School, where the football and baseball facilities are both named in Stargell’s honor, word of his death hit the Jets baseball team hard. “He’s real big to us,” senior pitcher Jason Rivera said. “When you come out here every day and see the Willie Stargell [Field] sign, it’s something to be proud of. To see that sign every day just motivates us.” Shortstop Nick Loy said the team looked up to Stargell. “We respect him a lot.”14

  Four days after Stargell’s death, some 400 people gathered at his funeral at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Wilmington. Many of his friends and former teammates were in the church and continued on to the burial ceremony at Oleander Memorial Gardens. Former Pirates catcher Manny Sanguillen, who was crushed when Clemente—his best friend—died in 1972, wore Stargell’s number 8 jersey to the services. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Sanguillen said. “I’m so sad. I’ve lost my two best friends. Willie and Roberto. What am I going to do now?”15 Morgan, who would deliver the eulogy, said he wanted to see Stargell during the last months of his life, but that Stargell told him not to come to Wilmington. “He said, ‘No—I’m fine.’ He never did tell me how ill he was. He didn’t want anyone to know. I really believe he didn’t want anyone to see him deteriorate. He wanted you to remember him as he once was. My memories are still of the Willie Stargell I knew because I didn’t see him deteriorating at the end. Looking back, I should have gone. But by the same token, I have the memories he wanted me to have. I don’t know if I was right or I was wrong there.”16

  Ed Ott, the former catcher with the ’79 championship team, said he had seen Stargell during his final spring training in Bradenton “and I probably wish I hadn’t. I hardly recognized him. I had a friend of mine with me—he was my coach in Allentown. We went over to Pirate City and I asked if Willie was there. He had just come back from a doctor’s appointment—it didn’t even look like him—but I introduced him to my friend. Later I thought to myself, ‘I wish I hadn’t seen him.’ Instead of that big burly guy with the great smile, I have the image of him just coming off dialysis and not at his best. It was your basic day and night.”17 Oliver said he had kept in touch with Stargell throughout his illness and would call him a couple of times a month right up until the end. “I’d say, ‘Wilver—how you feeling, man?’ He’d call me ‘Chief’—and he’d say, ‘God’s looking out for me. Still hangin’ tough.’ He’d never give you any indication anything was wrong with him. He didn’t complain, although as a friend you knew things were going on that were not positive. But he tried to stay upbeat. And he was upbeat all the way up to the end.”18 Bartirome, the former Pirate trainer, said Stargell didn’t want anyone pitying him in his final months. “Whatever came about, he was going to take it like the man that he was. He didn’t want people to know anything. For him—a big, strong guy—to get sick like that, it was heartbreaking. You never think of a guy like that being sick.”19

  Garner said when he learned that Stargell was ill, he made it a point to go see him. “He was not looking good—his color was not good,” he said. “I felt bad about it and I tried to stay in touch. But Willie never wanted you to do anything out of sympathy. You had to be very careful—he would avoid you if he even thought that was what you were doing. He was a very rare individual.”20 Jackson, known as “Buck” to his teammates on the ’79 title team, said he ran into Stargell at Detroit Metro Airport one day after he returned to the Pirates organization and did not recognize him. “I saw a guy sitting there sweating bullets,” Jackson said. “I walked over to him and said, ‘Sir, sir—are you all right?’ He lifted his head and I saw it was Willie. He said, ‘Buck, I don’t feel good at all.’ He was going back to Wilmington to find out what the problem was.”21

  Tanner said the players who knew Stargell best would be hit the hardest on the day he was laid to rest. “He was like a shepherd with his sheep,” Tanner said. “He touched everyone he ever met.” Blass, who never forgot Stargell for his standup support during the right-hander’s decline and ultimate departure from the game, said, “I was at Clemente’s funeral and now I’m going to be at Willie’s. You always think the best people are going to live forever. This just doesn’t seem right.”22 Parker, who had his ups and downs with the Pirate organization and with Stargell, made it to Wilmington for the funeral and served as a pallbearer. “I felt like I had to be here because he was like a father to me.”2
3 It wasn’t just his former teammates who were touched. Across the country, in San Diego, San Francisco Giants manager Dusty Baker—who played against Stargell while with the Dodgers and Braves—remembered him as “the universal man. If we wanted to send someone to Mars or Venus to show the best of the human race, Willie would be the guy.”24

  Two days later, back in Pittsburgh’s Hill District, other folks remembered Stargell and the impact he had on their neighborhood 30 years earlier. They talked about his long-ball prowess or meeting him on the street or the work he did for various charities. And they talked chicken. “We used to have transistor radios when he came up to bat,” recalled Butch Smith. “When he hit a home run, ‘Spread Chicken on the Hill with Will.’ People came out of the woodwork.” Ruth White, who had worked with Stargell during her stint as director of the Sickle Cell Society, remembered Stargell as a major help to the cause. “Anytime I needed something and asked him, he’d say, ‘I’ll try to do it, Miss White.’ He helped us become what we’ve become—a viable society where patients are able to get the help they need. Something they didn’t get before Willie.”25

  The next day, upward of 1,000 people packed St. Mary of Mercy Church in Pittsburgh for yet another memorial service. On the altar was a cross made of flowers, and a single black-and-white photograph of Stargell was on display. The Reverend Donald Wuerl, bishop of the Catholic Diocese of Pittsburgh, was among the clergy taking part in the service. While noting the sadness of Stargell’s death, Wuerl said Stargell’s passing was an opportunity to celebrate and remember his life. “The community relived the memories and highlights of a life that touched us all,” he said. “He was more than an extraordinary player. He was a good person.” Oliver, who had asked Stargell to serve as his best man at his wedding many years earlier, was among three people who delivered eulogies. “Willie Stargell,” Oliver said, “was a winner in every aspect of the word.”26 Blass remarked about Stargell’s physical stature, calling him a “big man. He had to be a big man to contain that enormous heart.”27 Tanner said Stargell had the heart of a lion—not to mention a cannon for a throwing arm—and dancing feet. “He had fun and he was funny. He was the strongest of men, the greatest of heroes.” Tanner then looked upward and added, “I’m hoping to manage you again someday.”28