20 - October 1959

Victoria lay on the bed next to Robert, her body curled in a half-moon shape around him as the long dusk of Sunday morning stretched out before her. After a rain-filled week, the coldness and dampness finally gave way to one last gasp of Indian summer. Victoria watched through the thin white gauze curtain as the sun broke the horizon. It filled her with a sense of calm.

“Robert, how upset would you be if I told you I was pregnant?”

“You’re what? You’re pregnant?”

“No, I’m not pregnant. But what if I was?”

Robert exhaled deeply.

“I guess that answers it,” she said with a twinge of sadness in her voice.

“Honey, we’ve talked this to death.”

“We haven’t talked it to death if nothing’s been resolved.”

“You know I want children, too, but…”

“But there’s a chance they’d have Sickle-Cell. I know this, but when I married you, there was an agreement between us. You said we’d still have children someday. I think someday is now.”

“Not while I’m traveling with the team.”

“Oh, Robert…”

“My arm is still at 100%.”

“It’s not your arm the team’s worried about. It’s the rest of your body. They’re not going to re-sign you. You need to start looking for something else.”

So, there it was, Victoria’s unblinking opinion, out in the open. Still, it was hard medicine for Robert to swallow.

“I’m a pitcher and you know I still have a few good years left.”

“You know what all the doctors said.”

“They’re wrong. I just know it.”

“Oh Robert…”

Victoria slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen, leaving Robert behind. Pauline was there.

“It’s a perfect morning, don’t ‘cha think?”

“I did when I first opened my eyes…”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Robert. He’s convinced he’s going to return to pitching.”

“Well, maybe he still can.”

“I don’t want to keep going through this every time he has an episode.”

“You have to talk to him about it.”

“You know Robert. He’s as stubborn as a damned old mule.”

Pauline tapped her teeth with the end of one fingernail. It was her way of trying to sort things out.

“Maybe I can get Chick to talk some sense into him.”

“I hope so.”

Moments later, Robert showed up in the kitchen. Victoria did not exchange a word with him. The tension in the air was thick.

“You know, Vick, I’m going to see the coach about this tomorrow morning.”

“Do whatever you want. You always do.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she muttered.

“Maybe you should worry a little more about you and a little less about me.”

“Robert, it’s my job to worry about you.”

“Not now. Not about this.”

By the time Monday rolled around, Robert decided to make a special trip to Red Wing Stadium. In the meantime, both of the girls had cornered Chick. Robert would have to find his own way there.

“C’mon, Chick.”

“I can’t take you there in good conscience.”

“I’m going to get there, with or without you.”

“Then, I guess it’ll have to be without me.”

Robert called for a taxi and took it to the stadium. When he arrived, Chick was already talking with the coach.

“C’mon Chick,” said Robert, “Let me talk to the coach for a bit.”

“Chick, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got two home stands left, one against Buffalo and the other against Columbus. You won’t be in either one.”

“Come on, Coach. I’m in tip-top shape.”

Coach folded his arms and shook his head.

“Just one game.”

“No means no, Robert.”

Robert stood there between Chick and coach. Neither man said another word to him as he looked both of them over. He just shook his head and went back the way he came. Unfortunately, the taxi had left, so Robert just headed home.

An hour or so later, the screen door banged as Robert arrived home. The girls sat next to each other on the living room couch. They glanced up at Robert. Robert studied them, much in the same way he’d studied Coach and Chick.

“All right, already, you win.”

Victoria and Pauline hopped to their feet and threw their arms about Robert. They both embraced him tightly.

“What made you change your mind?”

“The season’s over and I’m not getting any younger.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll find a job somewhere.”

“What about law school?”

“One thing at a time, Victoria.”

He did just that, handling one thing at a time. First thing first: the job search. He canvassed Rochester and visited every small business he could find. He applied for every accounting job these small businesses had available.

Unfortunately, the only answer he ever got was ‘no’. That was if he was lucky. Usually, he didn’t even get a ‘no’. Instead, he get anything at all.

Although this was the north, things weren’t as different from the south as one might think. Black was black and white was white and in between there was still a great divide. It was the end of October before he got his first callback. It was for a part-time data clerk job. The interview, however, was just as tough as one for Public Accountancy.

“But I have an college degree. That has to be of some use,” he said to the man.

The man, old and small in general stature, sat in his rigid wood chair on the other side of the desk. The man was hunkered over, fixated on Robert’s resume. It was the first resume from a college graduate the man had received. Most of his applicants were students.

“I just don’t have a use for someone like you.”

“Don’t you have anything for someone like me?”

“No.”

“I need a job. I’ll take anything.”

“I don’t think you get it. I don’t have a job for your type. That’s just how it is.”

Then, it became crystal clear. The man moved Robert’s resume to one side, with the rest of the applications, and plopped his arms on the desk between them. Robert stared him down for a few moments. Then, he got up and left.

Robert had noticed ‘it’ before, but hadn’t acknowledged ‘it’. One girl took his resume and application and put it aside, as if it was headed for the trash the moment Robert left the room. Maybe Robert was being paranoid, maybe not. It was hard to tell.

“Maybe you should look for work at a law firm,” suggested Victoria.

“I can’t even get a job as a data clerk. Who’s going to hire me at a law firm?”

“Why don’t you try a black law firm.”

“I shouldn’t have to go to my brothers. This is the north. This is the last stop on the railroad. This is America.”

By ‘the railroad’, Robert meant the Underground Railroad. It was common knowledge among the black community that Rochester held one of the most important places in the black conscious. Slaves who escaped as far as upstate New York were nearly free. They stayed in one last safe house at the place where the Genesee River met Lake Ontario – a literal hop, skip, and a jump away from freedom – before heading to the other side, to Canada, and to freedom.

Like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, the Freedom Crossing stretched from Rochester to Buffalo and connected Lake Ontario to Lake Erie. It offered some sort of security to the slaves who admired the Canadian shore from the windows of their safe houses.

“I just don’t know what to do next,” said Robert.

“Did you try Kodak?”

Robert crossed his eyes.

“I know, it’s a big company and you like to be a big fish in a small pond. Why not dive in the deep end for once?”

Just then, Chick’s car pulled up outside. Robert grabbed his overcoat and darted out the door.

“Hey, what’s up, buddy?”

“We’re going on a road trip.”

“We are?”

Robert nodded. He gave directions, but did not reveal his final destination. It became clear, though, as they pulled onto Lake Drive and the buildings of Kodak Park loomed overhead.

“Wait right here.”

So Chick did as he was told…for two or three long hours. Meanwhile, Robert was looking for a shot at the big time.

Kodak owned the photography world in those days. They supplied most of the cameras to housewives and movie directors alike. They also made the film and the processing equipment.

“Where’s the Human Resources office?” Robert asked the receptionist. She pointed him down a long, narrow hall.

A mass of people sat in a classroom, filling out applications. They were from every part of society: white and black, rich and poor. Their fingertips were rugged and manicured. From janitors to captains of industry, this room had them all.

“Sir?” said a girl, “Do you need an application?”

Robert nodded. She plucked a clipboard from the pile beside her and handed it to Robert, along with two No. 2 pencils.

“Find a job on the listing there on the wall and fill out this application. When you’re finished, return it to me and I’ll have one of our interviewers talk to you.”

Robert scanned the list until he found a listing he liked.

“That should do,” he said as headed to an empty chair. He took off his overcoat and made himself comfortable before he started. He’d become proficient at filling out applications lately, so he quickly scrawled his info and returned it to the girl. It wasn’t long at all until he got his interview. His interview, however, kept Chick waiting for a very long time.

“So, Mr. Johnson?”

“Yes.”

“You’re looking to become a data clerk.”

Robert nodded.

“But you have all this school.”

“But I was told I didn’t have the necessary experience.”

“By whom?”

“Everyone I interviewed with in Rochester.”

“What do you want to do?”

“What?”

“What would be the perfect job for you?”

“I’d actually like to work for a small business.”

The interviewer looked at him intently.

“Doing?” she said.

“I am good at math.”

“Then why are you applying for a data job? Let’s not put square pegs into round holes.”

“I’m thinking of going back to law school.”

“Wait right here,” said the interviewer.”

Robert shrugged.

“We have a gigantic legal department. Let’s find a place for you there.”

The interviewer disappeared for twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Still, Robert waited patiently. When she returned, she brought a gentleman in a black three-piece suit.

“Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Hoaglund. He’s the head of the Legal department. I showed him your application and he would like to speak with you. Is that okay?”

Robert nodded.

“Robert, I always have a need for good accountants. It says here that you graduated from Morehouse. Is that right?”

Robert nodded.

“I went to Emory, but that was a long time ago. What have you been doing since you graduated?”

“Playing baseball. I’m a pitcher with the Red Wings.”

“Hey, my son and I go to games. Maybe we’ve seen you pitch.”

“Maybe,” said Mr. Johnson.

“That’s great! Can I have a moment with my interviewer?”

“Sure thing,” said Robert.

They left only momentarily, but they both had smiles on their faces.

“Would you like an Accounting job in the Legal department of the one of the largest companies in the world?”

Robert nodded enthusiastically. Mr. Hoaglund handed him a small scrap of paper.

“This is what we’re offering.”

Robert gave it a look. He was hardly able to contain himself.

“Is that good for you?”

Robert nodded.

Mr. Hoaglund stuck out a hand. Robert promptly shook it.

“The interviewer will work out the details.”

She left Robert in the interviewing room again, only to return with brochures on “The Kodak Way” and his list of benefits and the job description. He signed the necessary paperwork and then he was out the door. Chick was reclined in his seat, his ball cap over his eyes. When Robert opened the passenger door, he popped to life.

“Did you get it?”

Robert waved the paperwork at Chick.

“This calls for a celebration!”

“I just want to take a ride around town.”

“We can do that, too!”

Robert leaned back in his seat as he took it all in. The quaint, quiet streets of Rochester were a place Robert loved again. Really, though, he’d never lost faith. He had been short-selling himself with the job search. It was mostly because he still saw himself as a pitcher, but he also didn’t want to admit defeat. Taking an office job meant spending his entire day inside. That was where he spent too much of his childhood, confined to beds and looking out windows. To him, that pitcher’s mound always meant freedom.

“Let’s stop at a bar and grab a few drinks,” said Chick.

“Nah, let’s go home and tell the girls.”

“All right.”

“We can stop and get a case of beer and drink it out on the porch.”

“But we don’t have a porch.”

“We have some steps. That’s a good enough porch for me.”

“Yeah,” said Chick, “that’s good enough for me, too.”

The boys returned to the house and sat on the front stoop. Robert was still in his suit.

“Get out of that thing before you rip a hole in your slacks!” scolded Victoria, “I’m not mending it and we can’t afford another.”

“Oh yes we can,” said Robert.

“What do you mean?”

“I got a job.”

“Where?”

“Kodak; I’ll be working as an accountant.”

“That means you’ll be working days?”

Robert nodded.

“Five days a week?”

Robert nodded again.

“Looks like you’ve finally got him trained,” laughed Pauline, “when you gonna fix mine?”

“I’m fine just the way I am,” said Chick.

“Yeah,” added Robert, “he doesn’t need you changing a thing.”

Pauline snagged the beer out of Chick’s hand and took a swig.

“I’m his wife. I do not defer to him. I stand beside him.”

“But you’re sitting down,” said Robert pointedly.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m standing or sitting, the point is that it’s my prerogative to change him.”

“Why don’t you worry about you…”

“…and I’ll worry about me!” chimed everyone else in chorus.

Chick laughed as he held his bottle of beer over his head.

“I’ll drink to that,” he said.

“Me, too!” Victoria clanked her bottle to Chick’s. Pauline joined in. Finally, Robert joined in, too.

“I didn’t even tell you the best part of this new job.”

Robert reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny scrap of paper. He held it tightly between his two hands, displaying it for all to see.

“You can’t be making that much!”

“I most certainly am.”

“Oh, Robert, that’s perfect timing, because I’ve also got some news.”

Robert glanced over to Victoria.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, come on, Vic.”

“No, Robert, I mean it this time.”

Robert looked to Chick and Pauline. Pauline nodded her head affirmatively. Robert looked to Victoria while she waited for him to respond. He jumped out of his seat and embraced her as tightly as he could.

“Ooh, baby, you’re hurting my ribs!”

“Sorry, but I’m just so damned happy.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am. How could I not be?”

“I thought you were worried about the Sickle Cell.”

“We’ll worry about that bridge when we come to it. Let’s get over this next hump first.”

“Oh, Robert! You make me so happy!”

With a baby on the way, Robert buckled down for his first full-time job. It was not what he had expected at all.

One of the secretaries led him to the Legal department’s accountancy room. His desk sat in the middle of a sea of desks. Accountants, all dressed in suit and tie, sat at their separate stations, working diligently on their ledgers. His desk was plain, with a single general ledger sitting between two banker’s lamps.

“Someone will be with you shortly, Mr. Johnson.”

One-by-one, the accountants greeted Robert and made small talk.  Robert instantly felt at ease even as he settled into his desk. He saw Mr. Hoaglund across the room. When Mr. Hoaglund approached, Robert rose to his feet. Mr. Hoaglund waved him off. Robert smirked slightly.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I’ve always been the one waving off my catcher.”

“Well,” said Mr. Hoaglund, “you’re in the big leagues now. No more calling your own pitches.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just call me Sonny.”

“Okay, Mr. Hoaglund.”

Mr. Hoaglund returned to his office at the head of the room and one of the other accountants introduced himself. Robert thought it was weird, because he was black, just like Robert.

“My name’s Ryan. I’m your supervisor. Let me show you around the place.”

Robert followed Ryan as he was led through strange rooms and introduced to more people than he could ever remember. Robert was surprised when he saw other blacks in manhy of the departments. This is what he expected from a northern town – blacks and whites working side-by-side, just like in northern baseball.

Kodak was far from the only pioneer to find a home in Rochester. There was also Frederick Douglass and Susan B. Anthony.

They’d both spent a good part of the 19^th Century working with the abolitionist movement, trying to get rid of slavery for once and for all.

Once in 1836 and once in 1837, Frederick Douglass attempted to escape his white captors In 1838, however, he met Miss Anna Murray, a free black woman. She gave him the money, disguise, and all the necessary papers for his passage to freedom. He traveled by trains and ferries to Maryland.

The couple married and settled in the northeast for a short while before coming to Rochester.

When in Rochester, Frederick Douglass became involved with the anti-slavery movement. Additionally, he supported women’s right to vote, speaking at women’s rights events, like the Seneca Falls Convention of 1848.

At approximately the same time that Douglass was participating in women’s rights conventions, Susan B. Anthony moved to Rochester. She quickly began participating in the suffrage movement, which promoted a woman’s right to vote. It was then that Anthony and Douglass started moving around in these same social circles, each one supporting his or her half of the struggle.

So, for Robert to be part of Rochester’s real-live labor force, working side-by-side with his white peers, that was something truly unexpected, but divinely sweet

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