15 - March 1959

1959 was a time of great expectations and even greater surprises. By the time February rolled around, Robert, Chick, and Pauline finished preparations for their trip west. So, too, had Victoria. When Robert returned home to Atlanta during the holidays, Victoria sprang the news on Robert and her family, all at once.

“You don’t think you’re going to live in sin with this man, do you?”

“No, Daddy. We’ll visit the justice of the peace.”

“No daughter of mine is getting married by a judge,” scolded her father, “we’ll have a proper wedding here before you leave.”

“I haven’t even agreed to this,” said Robert.

The entire Hanley clan stared him down.

“I’m only saying…”

“Do you love my daughter?”

Robert nodded.

“And you want to marry her?”

Robert nodded again.

“Then I don’t see a problem here.”

Robert Johnson, who was a large man by all accounts, was whittled down sufficiently by Victoria’s father. The same could be said for the female portion of Victoria’s family. Robert just stepped aside and watched.

It was a whirlwind affair, with preparations suddenly underway. Even though it was short notice, Victoria’s mother rounded up a nearby chapel in Atlanta’s mid-town. It was quaint and suitable. The date was set and friends and family were quickly accumulated

The wedding party was a foursome: Robert and Victoria, Chick and Pauline. The guest list came in at just under fifty. Mr. and Mrs. Hanley, however, still hosted a grand reception in their own backyard.

A small white tent just like the kind you’d find at an old-time tent revival, sat in the center of the backyard. A barbeque pit, which Mr. Hanley constructed with bricks and mortar before Victoria was even born, sat at the back of the lot. The grill-top was large enough to accommodate enough food for a small army. It was filled with chicken and ribs. He manned the grill.

Meanwhile, aunts and cousins spent the week leading up to the wedding snapping beans, peeling potatoes, and rolling noodles. Aunt Lizzie made a pot full of succotash and Aunt Mary baked a half-dozen peach cobblers. The party lasted long into the night.

Almost immediately afterwards, they were all ready to get on their way to Denver. For Robert and Victoria, it would have to work as their honeymoon destination.

Life in Denver, however, was not to be. The call came late one night when the boys were back in Birmingham. Robert and Chick were out on the porch. Pauline took the call.

“Hold on, I’ll get him.”

Pauline went to the front door.

“It’s Andy Anderson.”

Robert shifted in his seat.

“No, Robert, it’s for Chick.”

Chick gave Robert a puzzled look and went inside.

“Yes, Mr. Anderson?”

“Chick, the Detroit Tigers have been in talks with Boston. It seems that the Cardinals are looking for a good catcher.”

“Really?”

“They’ve decided on a three-way trade. The Bears get a couple of outfielders from Rochester and Rochester gets you and Robert.”

“That’s great.”

“There’s one more thing. Rochester needs tires for their team bus, so our Birmingham team is going to provide them.”

“We’re part of a trade for tires?”

“Complete bus wheels: rims, tires, and all. Don’t forget those two guys going to Denver.”

“That’s just strange, Andy.”

“Here’s the kicker. You’ll be delivering the wheels to Rochester personally.”

“Come on, Andy. That’s a load of manure.”

“They’re offering to pay you twice what Birmingham paid you last year. Plus, there are changes going on with the Negro Leagues. This might be your last chance at the majors. You’d better jump at this deal.”

“When do they want us there?”

“I told them you’d be there before Spring Training starts in March.”

“Oh,” said Chick.

“Can I talk to Robert?”

Chick fetched Robert and gave the good news to Pauline.

“What about the house? Are we selling it?”

Chick scratched his head.

“We should talk this over before you make any decisions.”

“I think the decision’s already made.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Do you expect me to just up and move like that?”

Pauline dug her fists into her hips. Chick stared blankly. Robert barged out onto the porch, interrupting the stand-off.

“Isn’t that great news?”

Pauline glanced at him.

“Isn’t it?”

“Pauline thinks we should talk it through.”

“Rochester’s in the north. That’s the land of milk and honey.”

Pauline tilted her head so as to give Robert a sideways glance.

“It’s not everything, but do you want to work in that god forsaken Laundromat all your life?”

“No.”

“Then, at least you should give a shot.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just think about it.”

Robert found much less resistance when he broke the news to Victoria. She had spent time with relatives in New York and was suddenly eager for a return trip. If anyone could change Pauline’s mind, it would have to be Victoria.

“Why are you so against this trip?”

“It’s not the trip. It’s Chick. He’s not even thinking about my feelings.”

“What if you were going to go to Rochester instead of Denver?”

“But I’m not. I purchased all this winter clothes for Denver.”

“Rochester’s just as cold as Denver.”

“But, I wanted to go west. I mean, Denver is out in the west. There are mountains and buffaloes and deer.”

“New York is beautiful, too. They’ve got mountains and deer.”

“But they’ve got smog and skyscrapers.”

“Honey, you really need to get out of Alabama more often. Rochester is right next to Lake Ontario. It’s some of the cleanest air you’ll ever breathe.”

So now, it was four on the road – north instead of west – Rochester or Bust. Rochester, New York was a far cry from Birmingham, a two-day trip unless you were driving non-stop.

The boys headed to Rickwood Field first. Andy was waiting outside the bus garage with four bus wheels.

“How do you suppose we’re going to get all these in here?”

“Ingenuity,” said Andy, “and Henry.”

Henry was the garage mechanic. He went along on road trips with the Black Barons. The bus broke down more often than not. If it wasn’t for Henry, the players just might find themselves trying to get a job on the team where they were stranded that particular trip.

Henry gave Chick’s car a once over and came up with a solution he’d seen in the army.

“We’ll put two wheels in the trunk and we’ll bolt the other two to the front and back bumpers.”

“What?” said Chick.

“You got a better idea?”

Chick shook his head.

“Then you’re riding like a G.I.”

Chick stood there as Henry fetched an acetylene torch from the garage and fired it up.

“Maybe you don’t want to watch this.”

Chick shook his head and watched anyway. Henry cut and welded, pounded and fused tire racks and carriage bolts onto Chick’s car. When Henry was finished, Chick crouched down and took a look beneath the car. It rode close to the ground.

“Don’t worry, that’s just about as far as she’ll go. Tires and rims are heavy. Baseball uniforms ain’t.”

That was little comfort to Chick as he returned home. Pauline looked on in shock.

“They expect you to take this all the way to New York? Who’s paying you for this?”

“Nobody.”

“That’s an outrage.”

“The tires came with the deal.”

Pauline just shook her head as Robert started to load her bags into the trunk.

“You need to put down some paper or something. Those filthy old tires will ruin my beautiful dresses.”

Robert did just that. By the time the girls’ stuff was loaded, there was very little room for the boy’s bags.

“What are we going to do?”

“We could put it on top,” suggested Robert.

“How are we going to secure it?”

“We’ll tie it down with some clothesline.”

So they did just that. Unfortunately, there were at least two obvious problems with this solution. First off, the rope would have to be fed through the windows. This meant the windows would be gapped open for the entire trip. Secondly, the rope would fasten the doors shut.

With no other real solution, they secured their bags to the roof and headed up route 31, the Decatur Highway. For the first hour or so, the ride was quiet and calm. Soon after the speed limit changed from 35 to 55, the rope vibrated like an un-tuned bass violin, humming in a loud, low voice.

“This is not going to work!” protested Pauline.

“It has to,” shouted Chick.

“I’m not riding the whole way like this.”

“Okay,” said Chick as he continued driving north.

“Did you hear me?”

Chick nodded.

“Come on, Chick, let’s turn around.”

“And do what? We don’t have a choice.”

Chick eased up on the gas, slowing to 45 MPH. The humming stopped.

“Better?”

Pauline nodded.

Progress from that point on was slow. Every so often, Chick accelerated just beyond Pauline’s limit and the rope would vibrate outside. Robert and Chick both took turns trying to hold the rope tight.

Finally, they both put their hands out the windows and held the clothesline between the roof and their bags. That helped. Unfortunately, it also cramped their shoulders. Robert used his left hand to prop up his right arm. After a bit, he switched off, holding the steering wheel while Chick propped up his own arm.

This lasted for about four hours, until they both had to stop and take a break. They climbed into the back seat and exited the rear doors as they headed towards the gas station restrooms.

“It’s your turn,” said Chick.

“What?”

“Both my arms are worn out.”

“Fine.”

Pauline took the next shift behind the wheel. Soon after she got onto the highway, she found herself also tired of the slow/quiet pace.This, of course, bothered Pauline as much as the clothesline’s buzz. She exited at the very next offramp.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing this.”

Pauline shimmied over the seat and crawled over Chick before he could even get out of her way. She went around to the back of the car and unloaded some luggage.

“Untie that rope.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m rearranging things.”

“Where do you think you’re putting your bags?”

“Right there,” she said as she pointed a finger directly at her extra luggage.

“What?”

Pauline slammed the trunk and returned to the driver’s seat. This time, though, she didn’t have to climb over the seat because she could open the front door. Robert and Chick just sat there in the back and said nothing.

“It always takes a woman to solve man’s problems.”

Neither Robert nor Chick pointed out that Pauline’s extra bags were the cause of the problem in the first place. They were just happy to get back on the road and travel the actual speed limit again.

They arrived in Russellville, Kentucky city limits just after 10 p.m. At that rate, they’d be driving almost four days. Still, nobody wanted to drive, so they stopped there for the night.

There were a handful of Motor Inns along the roadside. Pauline spotted one overlooking the road called The Lamplighter. An old man worked the cashier window. Pauline rang the bell.

“Hello, sir. Do you have any rooms?”

“We’re sold out.”

“Your lot is completely empty.”

“I said, ‘We’re all sold out.’”

Pauline left in a huff and returned to the car.

“No luck?” asked Victoria.

“No.”

“Let’s find another.”

“They’ve got rooms,” said Chick.

“Of course they do,” said Victoria, “but let’s find another.”

Before they even made their way down the road, the ‘NO’ in the No Vacancy signs lit up on a handful of motels. The rest simply turned them away. They turned around and headed north.

By the time they reached the Ohio River, it was just about sunlight. Chick was driving when he saw the sign for the Colonial Motor Inn. It didn’t look any promising than the rest of the places they stopped, but they were no longer in rebel country. Chick followed the arrow that pointed the way to the Colonial Motor Inn, which sat back and away from the road. It was a far piece from the main highway. Still, they felt they didn’t have much to lose.

Faint blue neon outlined the figure of a faded gray and white colonial soldier, who stood at attention out of the ratty old motel. There were about eight rooms, all in a row. And, of course, there wasn’t a car to be found anywhere.

“We gotta give it a try,” said Robert.

Chick hopped out of the car and went inside the motel office.

“Is there any chance we could get a room?” Chick asked the clerk.

The clerk used a single finger to pull the curtain aside. He peered out the window at the old car. Tires were affixed to the front and back bumpers and three colored people waited patiently inside,

“All our rooms have one twin-sized bed. How many rooms you need?”

“Two.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten dollars.”

“Alright,” said Chick enthusiastically. He dug a crisp ten dollar bill and slapped it down on the table. The clerk dropped two key fobs on the table and drew the money into his hand in one quick swoop. Robert and Chick each grabbed a key and rushed outside.

Everyone hurried to their rooms and went to bed without any fuss at all.

At noon, a pounding on the door startled Robert and Victoria. It was the same guy who had checked them into their room in the wee hours of the morning. He was holding a tray full of food.

“I’m sorry, but it’s check-out time. I brought you some toast and tea. If you need more time, we don’t expect the place to fill any time soon, so do what you need. I know you had a short night.”

“Thank you,” stammered Robert, “Thank you very much.”

Robert returned to bed with the tray in hand. Victoria sat up and they enjoyed their first official meal together. It was something. They were important guests at a motel, not second-class citizens. Victoria scooped grape jelly out of the rectangular packets and spread it on the toast. He relaxed against the headboard and enjoyed every last bite. They quickly got read as soon as they finished. When they arrived at Chick and Pauline’s room, the two of them were also ready to go.

It was a hot and sunny day. Everyone rolled down the windows as Victoria took the wheel. Hot wind whipped through the interior of the car.

“Rochester city, here we come!” she shouted.

The second day of travel was much quicker than the first, with Victoria driving the whole way. She cut across Ohio and rode along the Lake Erie coastline all the way to Rochester. Pauline and Robert, the New York newcomers, gawked out the window most of the way there.

 The remaining eleven-hour trip was almost cut in half with Victoria behind the wheel. Pauline’s hands clenched the seat at both sides of her. When they arrived, Pauline quickly darted out of her seat. Everyone else casually followed.

“It’s so good to finally be here,” she said.

“I told you New York was nice.”

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” said Chick, “Nothing like I expected.”

“Is anyone else hungry?” asked Robert. Everyone nodded.

“Let’s take a walk and see what we can find,” suggested Victoria.

The lakefront was dotted with restaurants of all types. More surprising were the soul food establishments and the intermingling of blacks and whites. It was a different world from home.

“Let’s get some barbeque,” suggested Chick.

“We just had barbeque all weekend,” said Victoria.

“But I like barbeque.”

“Let’s eat something else.”

Victoria led the way to a small hamburger stand. A row of new-fangled fluorescent lights lined the roof. Barstools sat along the counter, like an old Coney Island hot dog stand. Victoria picked out a seat and placed her order.

“I want a foot long with chili and cheese.”

“Me, too,” said Robert.

Pauline looked to Chick. She was hoping for something a little more fancy. Unfortunately, when Chick joined the newlyweds, Pauline was once again left without much choice.

“When in Rochester,” she said with a meek smile.

“That’s more like it!” said Victoria.

Victoria let her hair down and went with the flow as best she could. That, of course, lasted a very short while. After dinner, they found a small bed and breakfast to spend the night. It was owned by an old black couple that seemed to handle all the operations, from front desk to housekeeping to maintenance.

“Are there any good rentals around here?”

“I can rent my rooms by the month. Is that good enough?”

Robert nodded.

“How long do you need?”

“We’ll start with a month and go from there.”

“Alright,” said the old man.

The men paid for their rooms and followed the old man through the old Victorian house. Robert and Victoria were in a cozy room downstairs while Chick and Pauline had one of the upstairs bedrooms. When she arrived in her room, Pauline realized she’d made a terrible mistake.

“Oh, gawddammit!”.

“What’s wrong?”

“I left my bag that held my favorite sundress beside that gas pump in Decatur.”

“There’s probably no getting it back now.”

“Don’t even…”

“It’ll be alright. You can go shopping for a new one.”

The lost luggage may have been the perfect diversion for Pauline’s frazzled mind. She and Victoria would spend the next few weeks getting acclimated to their new surroundings. Pauline shopped and Victoria hunted for a hospital job.

Meanwhile, the boys checked in at the Rochester Red Wings clubhouses and got back to the business of baseball.

“You got our wheels?” asked the coach.

“There’s still on the car.”

“On the car?”

“Our team mechanic had to fix them to the bumpers.”

“Let’s take a look.”

Chick, Robert, and the coach all took a good, hard look at the tires. The bolts had stripped their threads during the long trip, making it impossible to remove the wheels.”

“I’ll have to get a mechanic.”

“You don’t have a mechanic on the team?”

“Oh, we have one, but he’s drunk more than he’s sober and I don’t really trust him to draw straight lines from home to the foul pole, let alone fix something with an actual set of tools.”

“Where are the tools?”

“I think there’s some behind the outfield wall.”

He took Chick and Robert to the tools. A heavy black tarp was draped over an old broken tool chest where the tools were stored. The tools were in worse shape than the chest. All were rusted, some were broken, and very few worked at all. Still, it was all they had. Robert and Chick picked out what they needed and returned to Chick’s car. Chick picked up a monkey wrench and began twisting, but the nut wouldn’t budge.  Chick tightened the jaw of the wrench onto the nut and stepped up and onto the wrench handle.

“You don’t want to do that, Chick. That wrench might snap and you’ll crack your leg wide open.”

Chick hopped down.

“What should I do?”

“Maybe if we squirt some oil on it.”

“We don’t have any oil handy,” said the coach.

“Let me try this.”

Before Robert could stop him, Chick started unfastening the entire front bumper. The bolts that held it quickly came loose. He went to the rear bumper and pulled it off, too.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Chick.

“We’ll find an auto shop and have them take it apart just like Henry put it together.”

“Why didn’t you just leave it on the car?”

“My car might be in the shop for a long time.”

The two boys carried the bumpers to the fence.

“They’re all yours, coach.”

“Alright boys,” he said, “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

When Robert returned to his room at the bed and breakfast, Victoria was huddled under a pile of blankets and overcoats, trying to stay warm. Chilly winter air flowed in through a quarter-inch gap around the windowsill. The wall radiator in their room just couldn’t keep pace.

Robert decided to do talk to the owner about it.

“Hal, we’ve got a terrible leak in the seal around our bedroom window.”

“I know, but I’m just not that handy.”

“Would you mind if I fixed it in exchange for a reduction in rent?”

“Sure!” said Hal

Robert made a trip to the hardware store and bought some supplies. He rolled a bead of sealing caulk around the edge and wiped a finger across the seam. There was a noticeable change within seconds. He fetched Hal for a quick inspection.

“That’s some work! What do I owe you?”

“It was no problem, just reimburse me for the supplies.”

“I can’t possibly do that. This place is a fixer-upper and I could definitely use a guy like you. I’ll even pay you. Do we have a deal?”

Robert nodded. The side job would go a long way to make living a little easier.

However, when Robert and Chick returned the next day for practice, there was something else that needed fixing. The fenders to Chick’s car were gone. The Red Wing handyman, so it seemed, had taken it upon himself to remove the wheels. He used hacksaws and hammers to pound, scrape, cut, and pry the two things apart. The wheels finally came free. Unfortunately, so did both bumpers – and they were in several pieces.

“Damn it, Coach!” shouted Chick, “we’ve only been here twenty-four hours and I’ve already lost money.”

“I’ll talk to management and see what I can do.”

The process of trying to get money out of the managers of a minor league team was easier said than done. The coach made promises of pay dates, but when each pay date came and went, Chick still didn’t have money for new bumpers.

 He rode to the hardware store and purchased two 4x4 spars and the hardware to fix two new bumpers in place. He returned to the motel and began assembling his new jalopy as soon as possible.

“What’s all this racket?” said the manager.

“I’m fixing my car.”

“You’re making lots of noise. Why don’t you get Robert to help you? He’s a real handyman, you know.”

“I’m alright.”

But, of course, he wasn’t. His 4x4s extended about six inches beyond each side of his car.

“That’s probably a safety hazard.”

Chick dropped the wrench at his side and went inside. After he cooled off a bit, he came downstairs to Robert’s room. As he passed the front desk, the old man gave him a nod. Chick just ignored him.

“Robert, I need your help.”

“Sure, buddy, what’s wrong?”

“My car is what’s wrong.”

Robert followed Chick out front. He burst out laughing as soon as he saw the bumpers. The car now looked like a Swiss toboggan like the ones they use in the Alps.

Robert fetched a hacksaw and made short order of the work. Afterward, he pressed a foot down on the bumper and gave it a stress test. It didn’t budge an inch.

“Good as new…but different.”

It was definitely different. He got warnings from several of the local police officers. He told each one the story of how he and his best friend were traded for tires. That story probably saved him several hundreds of dollars.

Spring practices were held inside a large high school gymnasium until the weather cleared enough for outdoor practices.

As soon as the team went outside, the pace picked up. In addition to two-a-day practices, there were classes and seminars, just like their days in college. There were also hours of film study and homework.

This was old hat for Chick. He had been in triple-A ball before. Robert, however, found it exhausting. Worse yet, when he got home, there were miscellaneous duties as both handyman and husband. Robert didn’t have a moment to rest.

He enjoyed the challenge, but it was taking it’s toll. As the season continued, he found himself growing weaker. He slept in film studies and even laying his head back against the dugout wall to catch some shut-eye during games. He also found himself throwing up regularly. It wasn’t so bad when he was full, but when his stomach was empty, his abdomen was seizing and all that came out was phlegm.

Something somewhere would have to give.

.