Views About the Signing
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Readex Report The Robinson Interregnum: The Black Press Responds to the Signing of Jackie Robinson, October 23, 1945-March 1, 1946 By Thomas Aiello Associate Professor of History, Valdosta State University There is little about the life of Jackie Robinson that historians do not know. Each part of his saga has been analyzed time and again. Among the periods sometimes given short shrift, however, is the time between the seminal event of his signing with the Montreal Royals, AAA farm team of Branch Rickey’s Brooklyn Dodgers, in October 1945 and his arrival in Sanford, Florida, for his first spring training in an unapologetically racist South. Such is not to say that the period has not also received its chronicle. Jules Tygiel’s Baseball’s Great Experiment is the most substantial account of the sport’s integration, and Tygiel does recount Robinson’s time during the interregnum. So too does David Falkner in his Robinson biography Great Time Coming and Chris Lamb in his account of Robinson’s first spring training. [1] Each of those accounts uses major black weeklies to create a picture of Robinson’s actions and the black response, but looking at smaller black weeklies, less trumpeted than the Pittsburgh Courier and Chicago Defender, a more nuanced picture of that response helps color the solid scholarship that already exists. The initial response from smaller black newspapers, as found in African American Newspapers, 1827-1998, was, understandably, elation. Robinson’s signing was an “e[p]ochal step,” reported the Kansas City Plaindealer. “A Negro has actually been signed by a major league team! Unbelievable, but true!” For Washington Tribune columnist Edwin Henderson, the signing was “another nail driven into the coffin of American Fascism.” The Chicago Bee expressed relief that “another stepping stone was reached.” [2] Ben Davis, attorney, New York City councilman, and former editor of the communist Daily Worker, also celebrated the signing as “a milestone on the road toward full and unconditional citizenship,” reminding readers that he had launched an early “end-jimcro-in-baseball” drive as Worker editor years prior. He submitted a 1945 resolution, adopted by the city council of New York, calling on the city’s three teams to hire black players. “There are a number of Jackie Robinsons among the Negro people,” he argued. “Let us keep up the fight of labor and the American people until the stand taken by the Dodgers is not the exception but the rule.” [3] The People’s Voice, headquartered in New York, assigned its Montreal correspondent to cover the event and had a firsthand account of the contract signing. “Guess I’m just a guinea pig in this noble experiment,” Robinson commented. “Maybe I am doing something for my race.” He was gracious to reporters and they, in turn, were pleased with the signing. Another Voice correspondent was down the street covering a return concert by Paul Robeson, and after the show, the reporter stepped into Robeson’s dressing room and told him about Robinson’s event nearby. “Great!” said Robeson. “This is wonderful news. That’s what was needed. Something solid to go ahead with it and there’s no better man to be given this break than Jackie Robinson.” [4] In a rally later that week for Davis’s reelection to city council at New York’s Golden Gate Ballroom, the group, including Robeson, Margaret Webster, Joe Louis, and Lena Horn, passed a resolution against lynching in the South and in support of Robinson. The People’s Voice credited Davis’s activism, as well as “pressure resulting from the Ives-Quinn anti-discrimination law of the state of New York.” There was also Rickey’s determination and, in a moment of self-promotion, the constant advocacy of papers like the People’s Voice and Pittsburgh Courier. The Voice devoted more than a full page of coverage to the signing, listing positive comments and negative, providing biographical material and man-on-the-street interviews about the signing. [5] Don Deleighbur of the Chicago Bee credited Gus Greenlee, Pittsburgh Crawfords owner, for making the signing possible. “It is a fact,” he wrote, “that had not Greenlee come up with his ill-fated United States Baseball League with a franchise club playing out of Ebbets Field in Brooklyn” in 1944, Robinson might never have been signed. Greenlee’s new league, Deleighbur explained, was designed to rupture Negro Leagues baseball as it currently existed, and he began by naming teams and signing players away from the established organizations until the Negro National and Negro American Leagues shut him down. “In retaliation, Greenlee spread the word around the lobby of Chicago’s Grand Hotel that launched the ‘player strike’ before the East-West Classic in 1944.” The players eventually played after a pay increase for the game, but “from then on, the ‘heat’ was on Greenlee.” Still, he soldiered on with only two teams, the Crawfords and the Brooklyn Brown Dodgers playing a barnstorming schedule for the season. It was that association with Brooklyn that gave him “a chance to get the ear of Branch Rickey. What he told Rickey may never be known,” but it certainly encouraged Rickey to support black baseball. “That is why Rickey came out with that statement about the games and got more interested in the possibilities of Negro baseball players being good material for minor and major league use.” [6] Ludlow Werner, columnist for the New York Age, recalled a meeting with Rickey several months previous who railed at black reporters who asked him about two black players who had tried out for the team at Bear Mountains. He denounced Negro Leagues players and the Negro Leagues themselves. So his announcement about signing Robinson “came as a pleasant surprise.” As for Robinson, Werner was confident that the pressure of the situation would “bring out the best in him; and the best in him should prove sufficient to break up another myth that Negroes do not belong in ‘white’ baseball.” [7] Almost simultaneously, however, there was criticism. “Hollering murder long and loud,” wrote the Washington Tribune’s Al Sweeney, “are the Negro club owners. The management of the Kansas City Monarchs in particular,” who believed that team management deserved consultation before the signing. Other owners, however, were also upset, worried that their teams would be raided, as well. Backing them was Clark Griffith, owner of the Washington Senators, but Sweeney took little stock of Griffith’s stand, as he “manages to hire every nationality of a ballplayer for his Senators, except Negroes.” Besides, argued Sweeney, contract jumping was “a perennial pastime in the Negro leagues,” and the Dodgers were doing the same things as every other Negro League team. “As far as this writer is concerned there is no such thing as Negro owned baseball. Time and again, we have pointed out that the so-called Negro leagues are being controlled by whites.” [8] Sweeney was more optimistic about Robinson’s chances. Montreal’s southernmost opponent was Baltimore, the only city in the International League circuit with a potential housing problem. In spring training, he believed, “the Royals will undoubtedly schedule games in an environment that will not be hostile to the Negro star.” His teammates and fellow players “might be disgruntled for a short while,” but baseball competition would be the ultimate arbiter of their respect. [9] In the same edition of Sweeney’s paper, however, the description of the signing included skeptical quotes from Rogers Hornsby and the Dodgers’ own Fred “Dixie” Walker. There were complimentary statements in the chronicle, as well, but the statements were an ominous sign. “There was no use worrying about Jackie’s signing,” said Walker, “as long as he isn’t with my club.” But he was. [10] As the Associated Negro Press reported in another Plaindealer edition, J.B. Martin, president of the Negro American League, was overjoyed and wrote to Rickey to praise the signing. Horace Stoneham, president of the New York Giants, announced that his team would scout black players that season, too. But then there was the statement of James Titus, city manager of Daytona Beach, where the Dodgers held their spring training, who publicly reminded Rickey and Montreal owner Hector Racine that segregation laws would be strictly enforced in the city, but “neither has showed any inclination to forsake Robinson,” the ANP reported. [11] Despite such warning signs, optimism seemed rampant. Officials for both leagues, however, gave lie to some of Sweeney’s more cavalier pronouncements, meeting together at New York’s Hotel Theresa in mid-November “for the specific purpose of taking measures to prevent organized baseball from raiding Negro organized baseball.” The group “went on record as lauding the chance for Negroes to be admitted to major league ball,” but castigated Rickey and the major league for not contacting the Kansas City Monarchs, Robinson’s Negro League team. In a stern letter to commissioner Happy Chandler, the team owners argued that player raiding would never be tolerated between white teams. It was “unjust to our heavy investments and we will be rewarded nothing for having developed players and putting them in the limelight and then have them plucked off.” [12] It was on the heels of that letter that reports surfaced that Rickey had just weeks after hiring Robinson signed Homestead Grays pitcher John Wright to a similar minor league deal, only leading to more frustration by team owners. Chandler acknowledged that he received the protest letter but dismissed it out of hand. The argument was not a “bona fide dispute for consideration by his office.” [13] It would not take long, however, for the white owners of the Kansas City Monarchs to back down from their protests.