by Gary Moore
Frank wiped the bottom of his leather shoe on a fence board. “Gene, I have good news for you. The Dodgers agree with me and want you as part of their organization. But you’ll have to step out of the pen if you want to hear more. I just can’t take any future Major Leaguer seriously when he’s standing knee-deep in pig shit.”
Gene looked at his dad, unable to believe his ears or say a word. John merely nodded his approval. “Come on, let’s go up to the house and talk there with your mom and dad. John, do you have a few minutes?” Frank waited a moment, but neither Gene nor John moved a muscle or said a word. Gene was stunned, and his young age and innocence was clearly on display for both men to see. John was torn between helping his son realize his dream and losing him from the farm.
“Sure, let’s go have some lemonade,” John finally said as he put down the galvanized steel bucket he was carrying and slapped Gene on the back. “Ward, can you finish up here?”
“Sure Pop. No problem.”
As Gene, Pop, and Frank walked away Ward shook his head, picked up the bucket, and continued feeding the hogs. He was secretly proud of his brother, but he found it hard to hide the jealously that coursed through him.
“John and Allie, your son has a gift,” Frank began as they all sat on the porch sipping ice cold lemonade from different colored glasses. None of them matched. “I know it, and the Dodgers know it. We don’t want Gene to be taken by one of the other teams, but he’s too young to take into our farm system. What we would like to do is have you, John, sign for Gene, and we will place him with the St. Louis Granary Team. The Grain Elevator has a team that plays in the Industrial League. We’ll pay The Granary to have Gene play on the team, and they’ll pay Gene as though he works at the Granary. His only job will be to play baseball. That’s it. He will play there the balance of this season, and all of next season. If he plays well there, in 1942 we’ll move him up to our Minor League system. I think by mid-season ‘43, maybe ‘44 at the latest, he could be playing in Brooklyn, catching in the big show.”
John had grown to like Frank Boudreau, but he was naturally skeptical. “And how much would he earn?” he asked.
“Gene can earn almost a dollar an hour with his production bonus with the Granary team, but that’s just a fraction of what he can earn if he performs well and moves up. He just has to play there the way he played a couple of weeks ago.”
“And what if he don’t?” asked John.
Frank paused a moment before answering. “Well, John, then you can have your farm helper back. It’s important that you all understand this is business—big business. Those who play and help the team win will move up. Those who don’t, move out. It’s as simple as that.”
For the first time Allie joined into the conversation. “Gene, do you want to move to St. Louis and play baseball?”
Gene, who had been hanging on every syllable, was bursting with excitement. “It’s all I wanna do, mom!”
A long stretch of silence followed. Gene looked back and forth at each of the adults. John stared directly at his son. Allie stared at John. Frank just sat back and smiled at all three.
“Frank,” John finally answered, putting down his lemonade glass and standing up tall and proud. “You take good care of my boy.” Seven words. A young man’s future in the balance. John stepped off the porch and headed for the barn.
Gene Moore left the next day for St. Louis and the beginning of his baseball career. Although the season was nearly over, he was able to play in 22 games. He made quite an impression on the league, hitting six home runs and making plays behind the plate that amazed even the old-timers who were sure they had seen it all. In 22 games, 27 men tried to steal on Gene. Only six succeeded.
Gene just wouldn’t allow it.
Chapter 6
A Day of Infamy
December 7, 1941, dawned blue, clear, crisp in Southern Illinois. Although it was unusually warm for a Sesser December, Gene could still see traces of his breath lingering in the air. Home from his first season with the Granary team in St. Louis, he felt invigorated by the cool temperature and beautiful sky. With Gene’s help and outstanding catching abilities, the Granary team won the League Championship and Gene was named Rookie of the Year, even though he had only played in twenty-two games.
The Granary and the league were delighted with Gene’s performance; Frank and the Dodgers were ecstatic.
Gene returned home from St. Louis to help Pop on the farm. He received quite a welcome from the town. Mayor Noble Vaughn stopped by Gene’s house to present him with a certificate for a free breakfast at Lena Van Horn’s Café and a letter from the town council recognizing Gene for his accomplishments. Dr. Ward stopped by the house and encouraged Gene to take his dream and abilities as far as they would carry him, saying, “I just would like to know that I delivered a Major Leaguer before I retire.” He looked at John and continued, “Not every doctor can say that, you know.”
Sesser had never had a hero, and Gene Moore was the closest they had ever come to putting one of their own on a pedestal. It gave the townsfolk a sense of pride beyond anything they had ever experienced.
The people of Sesser had taken notice of Gene long before the Dodgers caught up with him. It started when he was only eight. The old men downtown would stop him on the street to talk baseball because Gene knew every player on the Cardinals’ roster and could recite their stats without fail. Frankie Frisch was the manager and the second baseman of the team everyone called “The Gasshouse Gang.” He hit .305. Gene knew the other batting averages, too. Rip Collins, the first baseman, hit .333 with 35 home runs. Pepper Martin played third and hit .289. Joe Medwick played left field and hit .318. Dizzy Dean won 30 games and his brother Paul won 19. Gene was only a kid but, when talking baseball, he could keep up with any adult.
Gene was up early, shoveling coal from Pop’s wagon into the barn and thinking back to the time when he was a little kid impressing the graybeards with his knowledge. Maybe someday another little kid yet unborn would impress others by reciting Gene Moore’s statistics. The thought brought a smile to his face.
Gene was leaning into another shovel full of coal when Billy Grammer stopped by. Billy was his best friend, and had been from a very early age. Billy didn’t play baseball and knew nothing, and cared less, about the game. What he loved was the guitar, and he was the best picker in Sesser. People said Billy was as good a musician as Gene was a ballplayer. Billy would sit, hour after hour, on the old porch of the Grammer home playing his guitar.
The fact that Billy couldn’t read music didn’t slow him down. He listened to the country and western station out of St. Louis, KMOX AM, during the week and especially enjoyed listening to the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights on WSM out of Nashville. Billy would listen, hear the music in his head, and then play it on his guitar from memory—usually without making a single mistake. Billy could play anything he heard on the radio. Gene loved country and western music and would sit and listen to Billy play for hours.
“Gene, what are you doing later today?” Billy asked. “They’re showing a movie at the Old Opera House and I thought you might wanna go.”
“What’s showing?”
“I don’t know, but it’ll be more fun than shoveling coal,” Billy replied.
“No kidding,” Gene responded. “Sure … what time?”
“I think they open the doors at one o’clock.”
“Okay, let me finish up here and I’ll meet you there,” answered Gene.
The morning passed quickly. Gene finished up his chores and washed up at the pump outside the barn before hurrying to meet Billy in front of the Opera House.
“Hey, Gene, look,” said Billy, pointing down the street as they were about to enter the theater. “It’s Ward’s girlfriend, Jamie Reid.”
“Yeah, I see her. Too bad Ward’s not here.”
Jamie was a beautiful 18-year-old woman with a glowing smile and long, silky, blonde hair. Her sparkling sapphire blue eyes had captivated Ward at firs
t glance. In fact, she attracted the attention of all the young men in town, but she only had eyes for Ward.
Jamie noticed them and walked over to say hello. “Hey Gene. Hey Billy.” Jamie looked around, “Where’s your big brother, Gene? Is he coming to the movie today?”
“No,” Gene laughed, “But if he knew you were here, he’d be here. You going in, Jamie?”
“Sure, I’ll join you,” she answered, slipping her arm into Gene’s. “Maybe it will make Ward jealous,” she joked. All three laughed at the thought.
When the movie, “Citizen Kane,” ended about 3:30 p.m., Billy and Gene stood up to leave. “He named his sled Rosebud?” Billy laughed. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either, Billy,” admitted Gene.
“Don’t you have a name for your guitar, Billy?” Jamie asked.
“No, but if I did, I wouldn’t name it after some silly flower. What about you, Gene? Do you have a name for your bat?” Billy asked as they walked outside into the blinding sunshine. Gene was about to answer when the sound of loud footsteps running up behind him interrupted his thoughts. It was Ward, and he was coming at them as fast as he could move.
“Gene! Gene!” he announced breathlessly, nearly doubled over and out of breath. “The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!”
It took a moment for Ward’s words to sink in. “Why would they do that?” asked Billy. “And where’s Pearl Harbor?”
“Who cares why? They did!” Ward screamed. “Pearl Harbor is in Hawaii, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Gene, we are at war! Or at least,
we will be officially soon. I’m joining the Army tomorrow. You’ll turn
17 in March and as soon as you do, I want you to join me as fast as you can. We’ll teach these bums a lesson!”
“Hey, don’t forget me!” Billy shouted. “I’m gonna join the Navy. If they bombed Pearl Harbor, the Navy’s gonna be where the fighting is. What about you, Gene?”
Gene had no idea what to say. He shrugged. “I gotta go with Ward, Billy. I can’t swim!”
“Wait a second,” Jamie interrupted. “You can’t go running off to war. You’re all too young and none of you really know what is going on yet. There might not even be a war. Billy, you’re a musician. What are you gonna do in the Navy?”
“There’s time for music later, Jamie. Besides, I’m a pretty good boxer, too, and I ain’t gonna take no crap from someone who would attack us, especially on a Sunday! I bet some of our men were in church or sleeping when the bombs fell!”
Realizing she wasn’t getting anywhere with Billy, Jamie shifted her focus to Ward. “Your brother Gene isn’t a soldier, he’s a baseball player. He’s waiting to hear where to report for spring training. He’s been talking about it all winter! He can’t go join the Army, Ward. My dad says everyone in Sesser is counting on him to play baseball in the Major Leagues.”
“Come on, Jamie! That’s a game. Gene, she’s talking about a stupid game! This is war! The Japs have attacked us and we’re gonna make ‘em pay,” Ward shouted.
“Don’t you yell at me, Ward Moore!” Jamie shot back. “You’re all riled up and you just better settle down!”
Gene stepped between them. “Jamie, there’ll be time for baseball, music, and everything else. If our country needs us, we’ll pitch in and do our part.”
“I know Gene, but you didn’t start this war—if there really is one—the Japs did. Besides, you could get hurt or even killed.” Jamie lifted a hand to her mouth and stifled a sob.
By this time Ward was visibly agitated. Gene’s nonchalant shrugs only made him more incensed. “Wait a minute, little brother. You’re not listening to this crap, are you?”
“Of course I’ll join, Ward. I mean if there is a war, we’re needed, it can’t take that long to beat the Japs.”
“If you all wanna run off to war, go ahead,” Jamie said. “But I don’t understand why. Gene and Billy, you weren’t mad at the Japs when we walked into the theater. I don’t know who they’re mad at, but I’m pretty certain it ain’t me, you, or anyone else in Sesser!”
“And you Ward Moore! Can’t you think of one very important reason why you shouldn’t go away?”
“Jamie,” Ward answered in a softer tone. “That’s exactly why I have to go … why we all have to go. If they’ll attack us at Pearl Harbor, they’ll attack us anywhere … even here.”
“Ward, the Japs aren’t coming here. I bet they couldn’t find Sesser with a map!” Jamie snickered.
“Go ahead and laugh, Jamie, but this is serious business.” Ward shook his head in disbelief and angrily walked away.
“Why is he so upset, Gene?” she finally asked when Ward disappeared around the corner.
“Maybe he’s mad because he wants to protect you,” Gene replied.
Jamie smiled. “Does he ever talk about me?”
“Oh, not much … only all the time,” chuckled Gene.
“Gene, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. I just don’t know what I’d do if the Japs killed him.”
“Don’t worry, Jamie,” Billy spoke up. “Nothing will happen to Ward. Those Japs don’t stand a chance when all of us Sesser men get there!”
“Besides, once they see Ward’s temper, they’ll run back to Japan as fast as they can,” Gene said with a smile. They all laughed together.
“I better get home,” Billy said. “My mom’s gonna be real upset when she gets this news. I need to be there.”
“Sure, Billy. I’ll talk to you soon.”
The three were parting company when Billy turned back. “Hey, Gene. I bet this is a day we won’t soon forget.”
Gene nodded in agreement.
“Gene, Ward, Helen, Margaret, Beth, Erma, Hilda … everyone get in here! The president’s wife, Mrs. Roosevelt, is going to speak!” Allie called out as she gathered her children into the living room of the old house on the corner of Matthew and Mulberry. Gene walked out of the kitchen eating a piece of his mom’s homemade bread with last year’s blueberry jam smeared all over one side. Pop tuned in their old RCA radio to KMOX in St. Louis.
“I want all you kids to hear this,” John said. “This is the First Lady and she’s going to talk to us about what happened today at Pearl Harbor.” The radio crackled and snapped as a woman’s voice began speaking:
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am speaking to you tonight, at a very serious moment in our history. The Cabinet is convening and our leaders in Congress are meeting with the President. The State Department and Army and Navy officials have been with the President all afternoon. In fact, the Japanese ambassador was talking to the President at the very time Japan’s airships were bombing our citizens in Hawaii and the Philippines, and sinking one of our transports loaded with lumber on its way to Hawaii.
Mrs. Roosevelt’s calm and reassuring voice helped settle the nation’s fear and anxiety. She expressed the necessity of being prepared and facing the challenges at hand. Most importantly, she spoke to the mothers and wives of those who would be soon going off to war.
“I have a boy at sea on a destroyer. For all I know, he may be on his way to the Pacific,” continued the First Lady. She had more to say on the subject:
“Two of my children live in coastal cities on the Pacific. Many of you, all over the country, have boys in the services who will now be called upon to go into action. You cannot escape anxiety. You cannot escape a clutch of fear at your heart, and yet, I hope the certainty of what we have to meet will make you rise above these fears. We must go about our daily business, more determined than ever, to do the ordinary things as well as we can.
The Moore family was captivated by the voice of the woman they had come to love. She was the wife of their leader, the president of the United States of America, but she, too, was a mother and would have a son in harm’s way. She reached out to all mothers to let them know she understood what they were feeling. But she also talked directly to the sons and daughters of a nation that suddenly found itself at war.
&
nbsp; Gene felt as though she was talking directly to him, and the First Lady’s words inspired him to a new feeling of valor.
“To the young people of the nation, I must speak a final word tonight,” concluded the voice on the radio. “You are going to have a great opportunity. There will be high moments in which your strength and your ability will be tested. I have faith in you. I feel as though I was standing upon a rock and that rock is my faith in you, my fellow citizens.”
When Mrs. Roosevelt finished speaking, John reached over and turned off the radio. Ward turned to face his dad. “Pop, I’m joining up first thing in the morning. I have to, Pop. Our country needs me, and it’ll need Gene, too. As soon as he turns 17. You heard what she said!”
Mom got up out of her chair, wrapped her arms around Ward, and began to cry. “No, you don’t have to go so soon, Ward. Let’s wait and see. It may be over in a few days or a few weeks. Let’s not … jump right into this war … Yet.” Allie pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose.
“Mom, I have to go. You raised me this way. They’ve attacked us and we can’t let ‘em get away with it. I’m sorry, mom … I’ll be okay, but I have to go. I wanna be that rock Mrs. Roosevelt can stand on, that all of you can stand on.”
Pop put his hand on her shoulder. “Mom, Ward’s right. I’m sure if he doesn’t join, they’ll just call him up anyway.”
“Gene, you can join me in March, on your birthday,” announced his older brother. “By then, I’ll have the Army all figured out and you’ll have it made.”
“Don’t be putting those ideas in your brother’s head,” Allie stuttered as she wiped her eyes with the apron she still had tied around her waist. “He’s too young for the Army, and besides, it will all be over by then.” The doubting look on the faces of her husband and eldest son only stiffened her resolve. “Besides, he’s a ballplayer, not a soldier. He’s waiting to find out where he’s going to report for spring training.”