Fifty years ago today, a car crash tragically paralyzed Hall of Fame catcher Roy Campanella, ending his baseball career at age 36. With intense physical therapy, he eventually regained the use of his arms and hands, but he never walked again. However, there's a silver lining to this story, as you will learn in a few moments, if you'll be kind enough to bear with me.
Campanella's career was cut short on both ends. He didn't get his first shot until age 26, in 1948, because of the color of his skin. But he was comparatively lucky in that regard; if he'd been 10 years older (as fellow black catcher Josh Gibson was), he might never have gotten his shot (as Gibson didn't). But he became the Brooklyn Dodgers' second black player, after Jackie Robinson. Given that he was playing in the Negro Leagues at age 15, it seems likely that Campy would have reached the majors several years earlier, had it not been for the poisonous and euphemistically named "gentleman's agreement" that barred black players from the majors.
On a side note, 2008 will mark the 62nd major-league season since Robinson broke the color barrier in 1947. Before that, the last black players to play major-league games were Moses Fleetwood Walker and his brother Welday Walker, who played catcher and outfield, respectively, for the now-defunct Toledo Blue Stockings of the now-defunct American Association in 1884 before racist pressure from the other teams' owners forced Toledo to drop them from the team. So the majors still haven't been integrated as long as they were segregated. What a dirty shame. I've often been bothered by the extent to which race is still an issue in American politics, but when you consider where we came from, it's hardly surprising.
So anyway, Campanella played 10 years for the Dodgers. They were moving to Los Angeles in 1958, so he'd have had to pack up and move out there. He was running a liquor store in Harlem, and was on his way home to Long Island from said store on January 28, 1958, when his car hit an icy patch, skidded into a telephone pole and overturned.
The Dodgers retained Campanella as a spring training instructor for the young catchers in the organization, and in 1959, he wrote (with a ghost writer) the inspirational "It's Good to Be Alive." The book chronicles his recovery from the crash that nearly took his life, and expresses his refusal to succumb to self-pity. I admit I've never read it, but I'd like to. Michael Landon, of "Little House" and "Highway to Heaven" fame, made his directorial debut in a TV-movie version of the book, in which Paul Winfield played Campy.
Roy Campanella died of a heart attack in 1993. He'd been named to the Hall of Fame in 1969 (he was first eligible in 1963; why it took the voters so long is beyond me), and the Dodgers retired his number 39 in 1972. He was posthumously named the 50th best player of all time by the Sporting News in 1999, and in 2006, the Dodgers created the Roy Campanella Award, given to the Dodger who best exemplifies his spirit and leadership. That same year, he was featured on a U.S. postage stamp, along with Mickey Mantle, Hank Greenberg and Mel Ott.
