<H Jll You don't have to go to college to be a Harvard man ^ t%' -*^> t"", EVENTEEN years is a long time, but when a quick look at me over his shoulder. She was I waited for Mary to say the wrong thing but %& Betsy Wade walked into that bar at South- asking him if he knew me, which was a laugh. I she didn't. She never does. She just smiled and ^, • ampton, I recognized her right away. She am well known to the bartenders in Lynbrook, nodded. was a junior at Radcliffe in 1933, which makes where I catch the Long Island Railroad every There was some small talk about how many her thirty-seven or thirty-eight now. Still, her morning, and to the bartenders in Penn Station, children she had and how many we had and how face looks the same. A minute later her married where I catch it every night. But Southampton we lived in Lynbrook and how she lived in Sixty- name came to me: Ellisont. Mrs. Raoul El- is not in my league. Mary—she's my wife—and fourth Street and Amagansett. Just before she lisont. That is, if she is still married to the same I had found a cottage in Hampton Bays for the left us, she asked me about Jack. guy- month of August for three hundred dollars. "I've lost track of him," I told her. "Some­ Remembering Betsy Wade's husband's name Mary's aunt was minding the kids on this Sat­ body said he was in the Navy during the war, was easy, because the morning I found the story urday while we drove over to Southampton to but I've lost track of him." of her engagement in the Sunday society section, have lunch and to see how the other half lives. As she walked away to rejoin her friends in Jack Morley and I talked about that name and I ordered two more Daiquiris for Mary and the dining room, Mary said she was nice. Mary spelled it out and wondered whether the guy was myself and thought about saying something to said she had real class without being high-hat. French or Spanish. The story said his family her about Betsy. I decided to let it ride. It "But remember me?" Mary said. "I only hap­ lived in New York and Glen Cove and he went would have required a lot of explanation and pen to be your wife and the mother of your chil­ to Princeton, but Jack and I decided a name like Mary didn't seem to be in the mood for con­ dren. Who is this Betsy What's-her-name? And that must have been French or Spanish. versation. She was too busy taking in all the ex­ what went on between you two back there in "No matter what he is, he's lucky," Jack said. pensive summer dresses around her. those grand old days in Cambridge? When you We were sitting in his back yard after church The proprietor of the place, an Irishman who went to Harvard, dear. I never knew you went on a Sunday morning. He looked at the paper is evidently regarded as a terrific character by to Harvard. I can hardly wait to tell the girls at again and handed it back to me. "Well," he the Southampton mob, came up to Betsy and her the launderette the first thing Monday morning. said, "I guess that's that." His voice was choked friends and convulsed them with a few wit­ "All right," I said. up. I remember now he stood up and turned ticisms and told them their table was ready. "All right nothing. You tell me what this is away from me and walked slowly into the house, While the other women were paying the bar bill, all about." with his head down and his hands in his pocket. Betsy walked right over to Mary and me and "Nothing went on (Continued on page 81) I noticed that Betsy was looking at me. There called me by my first name. I pretended to be were two women with her—it was lunchtime— surprised, but I don't think I convinced anyone. and they were talking, but Betsy wasn't listening "I knew Frank years ago," Betsy said to Mary. Jack made a date with Betsy, and from to them. After a while, she called the bartender "I knew him back in Cambridge when he and then on he saw her almost every night. and talked to him quietly and the bartender took Jack Morley were at Harvard." I don't know how he got away with it ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR SARNOFF PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED \ i"2r^ y^i^ \ *?« -«r w .^lii' mr^mm m^.-y '%i| ''" #i ^ft ' ,3 W>, *^^ »1 ,ii»^ t. .r^ •- * ?. * PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED 26 The BABE I Knew Continuing MY BASEBALL STORY • By EDWARD G. BARROW With JAMES M. KAHN went into the Navy. Others who joined up were agreed to terms—Ruth getting $7,500 and a prom­ Duffy Lewis, Ernie Shore, Del Gainer, Mike Mc- ise of $10,000 the next year if he made good—and Nally, Chick Shorten, Herb Pennock, Hal Janvrin, the signing ceremonies were over, I gave Larry In his time Ed Barrow has been called Jimmy Walsh and Fred Thomas. Dutch Leonard many things by many people, and none Graver, Red Sox secretary, a $5 bill and told him and Dick Hoblitzel enhsted soon after the season to take them both out to lunch. Those were the of them more accurate than the descrip­ started. Frazee hired me when Barry went to war. tion : "The Man Who Built the Yankees." days when you could still get some mileage out of But his amazing front-office accomplish­ In Boston, Frazee is remembered, though not a $5 bill. ments for the New York American mourned, as the man who sold off his stars and Two hours later Graver came back and said: League club form only a part of his nu­ plunged the Red Sox into a period of second-divi­ "You owe me $2.85." merous contributions to the game in a sion despondency from which they didn't emerge I couldn't understand that, and I asked Graver great variety of key baseball jobs. Ed until Tom Yawkey, their present owner, brought how come. Barrow's story is really the whole history about their revival almost 20 years later. The late "Have you ever seen that big guy eat?" he asked, of organized baseball as we know it Burt Whitman of the Boston Herald referred to referring to Ruth. "He had a whole custard pie for today. Typical of the influence of the man Harry's depredations as "The Rape of the Red dessert!" whom many believe to be the greatest ex­ Sox." That was the Babe. ecutive the pastime has known is the way What is forgotten is that Frazee, baseball's most I have another reminder of that first meeting he influenced the career of Babe Ruth infamous seller, once was a buyer. That was dur­ with Ruth, a picture of the signing showing Frazee, ing the winter when I took over and it was necessary Mclnnis, Babe and myself. It is principally interest­ to replace the players who had gone off to war. ing to me because I think it is the only time that We got pitcher Joe Bush, catcher Wally Schang Ruth was ever pictured signing a contract with an­ and outfielder Amos Strunk from the Athletics, other ballplayer. In the years to come Ruth never IV Frazee including in the deal a check for $60,000. shared the pubUcity that attended his signings. Also, we got Stuffy Mclnnis, the first baseman in The Red Sox had won the pennant in 1915 and 7' HEN, as manager of the Boston Red Sox Connie Mack's onetime famous "$100,000 infield" 1916 with Bill Carrigan at the helm, but had from 1918 through 1920, I changed Babe of Mclnnis, Collins, Barry and Baker. When it dropped to second in 1917 under Barry. We were to Ruth from a left-handed pitcher into a full- came time to put Mclnnis' signature to a contract win again in 1918, and beat the Cubs in the World time outfielder, there were some people who re­ he was not easy to sign. Ruth also was kicking up Series, but it was a patchwork club with which I marked that I changed the entire course of baseball. and holding out. He had won 23 games in 1916, had to tinker constantly because the roster was rid­ This, of course, is only partly true. I just put the and 23 more in 1917, and the big fellow was feel­ dled by the war. Ruth was invaluable to me as we Babe out there. He hit the home runs. ing his oats. It was to settle their contract differ­ drove to my first big-league pennant, doubling as The first close contact I ever had with Ruth was ences and to get them signed up for the new season pitcher and outfielder and proving outstanding at in February of 1918. I had been president of the that I called them both in, and thus had my initial each. But it was as much wartime necessity as it International League from December, 1910, until meeting with Ruth. was my own inclination which made me use a 23- December, 1917, when I quit in a huff.