The event was planned and orchestrated by the (then) new owners of the Red Sox who called the event "A Celebration of An American Hero," and it WAS just that. It was the greatest tribute ever paid any American hero, Patriot or sports star in our history. Everything was tastefully done with class and dignity. It was not a spectacle, wasn't "showy or glitsy" but, instead, had an elegance to it that was slightly understated. As each segment unfolded it was done with style and grace which is the way I would describe every plate appearance Ted ever made. Teddy Ballgame at the bat was indeed the picture of style and grace. Even Ted himself, as much as he insisted that there be no wake or funeral for him, would've been happy and appreciative of the considerations and effort put forth by the new Red Sox owners.
From the huge American Flag covering the entire left field wall (which, when lowered, revealed several pictures of Ted in various stages of his carreer) to the beautifully sculpted #9 (in white flowers) covering all of the left field grass that he had patrolled for so many years, all the love and care that was put into the evening shone through. Fenway Park had never looked so magnificent.
When a Marine bugler played taps, then a flock of NINE white doves were released and immediately cicrcled over left field, while a flight of Marine jets flew over Fenway and executed a commemorative "Missing Man Formation" in honor of their departed comrade, the misty eyes and lump in the throat that we all experienced were of pride, not sadness. This was indeed a celebrtation of the life of Ted Williams. He, himself, would have been very happy, and proud, as all his friends came to Fenway Park to share their remembrances of Ted would tell you.
Listening to private recollections of Ted by teammates and friends, Johnny Pesky and Dom DiMaggio (who Ted affectionately referred to as "Dommy,") were priceless. You could feel the love and affection these men, greats in their own right, felt for Ted. There was also a sense of "protectiveness" for Ted's memory shown by DiMaggio as he read a carefully written statement confirming Ted's last wishes to be cremated and his ashes spread over the Florida coast in the deep waters he loved to fish so much, and denouncing any proceedings that claimed otherwise.
The applause tendered Dom's action left no doubt in the minds of anyone there that Ted was loved and respected by all he ever came in contact with and deserved to be treated with dignity in death and his last wishes to be carried out to the letter.
John Glenn, another true American hero, related some combat experiences he had with Ted while serving together in Korea. (Ted was Glenn's wingman). He also shared a few personal memories while both were on leave in Japan that confirmed that Ted's baseball legend had indeed spread to that country. It could be said that Ted had a lot to do with baseball's current prominence in Japan.
One of the most stirring memories of the evening was provided by humorist, Dick Flavin, who recited his own version of "Casey at the Bat," which ends with..."For there is no joy in Mudville, Mighty Casey had struck out." Flavin's verse had DiMaggio and Pesky getting key hits "with two outs) enabling "The Kid" to stride to home plate. As Flavin describes, in dramatic voice, Ted takes two called strikes (strongly protested by the fans)...the Fenway crowd actually became hushed, not knowing how Flavin would describe the next pitch..."And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, and now the air is shattered by the force of Teddy's blow:---"Oh somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright...the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light...and somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children shout...(The Fenway crowd is silent in anticipation of the next line (as Flavin's voice peaks)....."And they're cheering here in Boston cause our Teddy Ballgame hit it out!"
The crowd let out a thunderous cheer, with glistening eyes and and a collective "thumping heart" full of pride for the memory of "The Kid." An affirmation that Ted is not gone....for his memories will always be with us.
All of the dignitaries and teammates that came to celebrate Ted's life, and I promise you that's exactly what it was, gathered around the enormous #9 sculpted into the left field grass ( with white flowers) in yet another expression of their love, respect and devotion. The big screen in center field, which had been a continuous montage of Ted's life all night long, kept on going as Ted's favorite songs of the Big Band era played in the background: Glen Miller's "In the Mood," then Benny Goodman's "Sing, Sing, Sing." Everyone picked a flower then drifted off the field as the sound of the music echoed, eventually fading away. Yet another subtlety and understated style Ted would have loved and appreciated.
And suddenly the evening, at least the on-field part, concluded as the celebrities retired to the .406 lounge for more private recollections of Teddy Ballgame. I refrain from saying "ended" because I don't feel anything about Ted will ever come to an end. His legend will most definitely live on with different generations having their own particular memories and perceptions of this great American hero. The people who saw Ted play and were affected by his life will have their own private memories. Others will recall the legend, but, rest assured, nobody will ever forget him. Yes, the media said Ted Williams had died but they were wrong for he'll live on in our hearts.....forever.
NOTE---I'll write out the entire Dick Flavin poem, "Teddy at the Bat," soon, right here. I'll also, from time to time, have some other "tidbits" about Teddy.....stay tuned