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“When Jackie took the field, something reminded us of our birthright to be free,” Jackson said. The silence of the transfixed filled the great church as Jackson paused between his opening phrases. People stood in the outer aisles, in the hallways and in the open bays. “Today we must balance the tears of sorrow with the tears of joy,” Jackson began. Jesse Jackson, who had been on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel on April 4, 1968, gave the formal eulogy.
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Robinson met with King for a rally in Birmingham in 1963.Ī series of ministers bade Robinson farewell that afternoon-Wyatt Tee Walker read from Corinthians-and a 60-voice choir delivered “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” and the Rev. Explore: Never-Before-Seen Photos of Jackie Robinson from 1956 You can see him there, still and thoughtful at a standing rest, solemn as a lion in a tender moment, and then turning his body-the big shoulders and powerful arms, the sturdy trunk, legs thick as the thickest mattress springs, the body that had done its part to change the world-away from the field and beginning to move in his aching gait toward the dugout and on through the tunnel to the locker room, where he would talk to the newspapermen and feel the fresh disappointment of the World Series loss and then peel off his flannels, his Dodger blues, his uniform, for the last time in his life. The ground where he had plied his craft and defined his mission, established himself and asserted himself again and again. You could see Jackie Robinson pausing there after the final out on that October afternoon, and looking out over the ballpark, at the fan of the infield and the white bases and the green outfield grass and the bleachers beyond. When Clem Labine reached Robinson in the thicket of teammates surrounding him on the field, he kissed Robinson’s cheek for all he was worth. The big Brooklyn crowd thundered and roared, and the old stadium shook and shook and shook in the autumn air. Gilliam gathered speed as he rounded third, and when he touched home plate, his fellow Dodgers streamed out of the dugout and some fans spilled out of the seats. But the ball got over him and landed on the cinder path and took a hop off the ad for Schaefer Beer. Slaughter moved sharply toward the ball and leaped with his glove outstretched. You could tell it had a chance by the sound of it- clock!-a high line drive out toward the gap in left-center field. Turley looked in toward the plate, stepped forward and threw the ball, and Robinson swung. Then he got up on the balls of his feet, ready to run. Gilliam kept his hands on his hips as he edged off second base, and then, as he moved farther away from the bag, he dropped his arms so that his hands hung below his knees.
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Turley caught the ball back from Berra and got up on the mound and then stepped off and drew a long breath and then got back onto the mound again. Robinson fouled off the first pitch, and the second came in outside.