Pick Up Your Oar and Start Rowing

I have been fussing over what story to send today, but last night something happened, and the decision was made.

A story dropped into my lap. A reader of my stories sent me an article.

After reading it, I sat in shock. Could it be?

Thank you for sending it along, Chris.

PS I posted this last night, but it didn't seem to go out. I am making a second attempt. Please forgive me if you receive this twice.

Mike

Keep On Waving

               Pick up Your Oar and Start Rowing

My boss, two co-workers and I stood behind the seats. We were

in the front section, on the first-base line at Shea Stadium, home

of the New York Mets. We were so close to the infield, there was a

protective net over our heads. I was new to the New York City area

and had never been to Shea stadium. These were dream seats. My heart

pounded with excitement.

We stood with our umbrellas held high, as the rain beat down on

everything around us. It bounced off the seats and quickly formed

deep puddles on the cover protecting the field. There was no sign of

it stopping.

"Steve," I asked my boss, "How did you get such great seats?"

"They came from Ed at the office. His dad is a blind sports

writer and has a long-standing relationship with the Mets and

Yankees."

The game was called due to rain. We left the stadium disappointed.

On the long subway ride back to Jersey City, I wondered about the

man behind the seats. How could a man be blind and be a sports

writer?

Years have passed since that rainy night. Old friends back in

Canada often ask if I have gone to a baseball game in New York yet?

I'll say to them, "I've been to a few, but let me tell you about the

best seats I ever had, but couldn't use." Whenever this happens,

the memory of that night comes flashing back, and I once again

wonder about the blind sports writer. What was his story? It had to

be special.

I sat at my computer one night. An email popped into my in-box. I

didn't recognize the return address. The subject line said,

"Inspirational SI article about my dad, Ed Lucas." I was curious. I

opened the email. It was from a gentleman sending me a clip from a

story written by Steve Rushin for Sports Illustrated. It was a

wonderful read about a special man. Through the article and the man

who sent it to me, I learned the full story.

The following is a synopsis:

12-year-old, Ed Lucas ran home from his school in Jersey City. It

was October 3, 1951. He arrived in time to see Bobby Thomas win the

pennant for his favorite team, the New York Giants. After the game,

Ed ran out to play ball with his friends. During the game, Ed was

hit between the eyes by a line drive. The force of the blow detached

both retinas, leaving Ed permanently blind.

Ed became depressed. His mother, Rosanna, took matters into her

own hands and took Ed to a Newark men's store. There, she introduced

him to Phil Rizzuto, a part-time employee of the store and a Yankee

star. Phil befriended Ed.

Rosanna wasn't done yet. She wrote the Giants Manager, Leo

Durocher, about her son. Leo asked her to bring Ed to, what was then

called, the Polo Grounds. On June 14, 1952, young Ed sat in the

clubhouse with the members of the Giants. It was the beginning of a

special relationship.

Ed enrolled at St. Joseph's School for the Blind in Jersey City.

The nuns were demanding. Ed learned to make his bed and match his

clothes. If he whined about being blind and not being able to do

what other kids could, Sister Anthony Marie was quoted saying,

"Isn't that a shame? We're all in the same boat here. Pick up your

oar and start rowing."

Ed enrolled in university to study communication arts. He worked

hard. He knew no other way. The nuns had made sure of that. He

graduated in 1962 and became a regular in the Shea and Yankee

Stadium press boxes, where he interviewed the players. In 1965, a

young Mets rookie, Ron Swoboda, took Ed by the hand. Together they

walked the warning track around the field. Ed traced his fingers

along the outfield wall. His fingers, sensitive to reading Braille,

seemed to read the history of the park, through every dent, scratch

and chip he touched.

Later that year, Ed married. He and his wife had two sons, Eddie

and Chris. Sadly, at a very young age, their mother left forever. Ed

had to raise his two sons alone. With the strength learned years

ago, at St. Joseph's, Ed took on the task. Through example, he

taught his sons to be strong.

It was not uncommon for the two young boys to see Billy Martin in

their home. "Huge stars like Mickey Mantle would tell me my dad was

their hero." Chris was quoted as saying.

Years later, a friend came to Ed and told him about a nurse,

Allison Pfeifle, whose detached retina left her legally blind and

unable to continue her profession. He asked Ed to speak to her.

Ed and Allison talked on the phone for many years before meeting

in person. They were baseball fanatics and spent their first date at

Shea Stadium.

On March 10, 2006, at Yankee Stadium, Allison will walk from the

dugout to home plate, and become Ed's new bride. With his two sons

at his side, Ed will start a new life, at the place he holds so

dear, and with the woman who captured his heart.

Ed, now 67, was quoted saying, "Baseball took my sight, but it

also gave me my life."

***********************

I sat in shock. Could it be? I mailed Chris back and told him

about the seats we couldn't use that rainy night. He confirmed, his

father was the man who provided those unused seats. Chris told me

later, "They are the first couple in the 80 year history of the

stadium to have the honor of marrying there."

I finally know the story. It was sure worth waiting for.

We can all learn what Ed did, "Pick up your oar and start

rowing.

Michael T. Smith

Keep on Waving

Michael Smith
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Archived Version of this story: http://www.zinester.com/lr/448754/10069747