Courage On and Off the Field

Alton Waldon Jr. couldn’t believe his eyes. It was 1947, and Waldon, then 11 years old, was outside his school in Brooklyn, New York, playing stickball with his friends, when up walked their hero: Jackie Robinson. It was one of many times that the first baseman for the Brooklyn Dodgers would stop and chat with the boys and share batting tips.

Robinson wasn’t just any ordinary ballplayer. He’d shattered professional baseball’s color line when he took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers on April 15, 1947—becoming the first Black player in Major League Baseball in the modern era.

Growing up as a Black boy in Brooklyn, Waldon listened to games on the radio and cheered Robinson from the stands. He still remembers it as one of the most inspiring times of his life.

“It changed how you felt about yourself,” recalls Waldon, who grew up to become a U.S. congressman from New York. “We had more glide in our stride and dip in our hips.”

Today, 75 years later, Robinson’s debut with the Dodgers is considered one of the most important moments in civil rights history. At a time when segregation was deeply embedded in the United States, he became a beacon of hope that the color lines existing throughout American society—from neighborhoods and schools to the military—could also be broken. Paving the way on the ballfield, however, wouldn’t be easy. Robinson would have to overcome challenges unlike any athlete had faced before.

Alton Waldon Jr. couldn’t believe his eyes. It was 1947. At the time, Waldon was only 11 years old. He was outside his school in Brooklyn, New York, playing stickball with his friends. Then out of nowhere came their hero: Jackie Robinson. It was one of many times that the first baseman for the Brooklyn Dodgers would stop and chat with the boys. During the visits, he shared batting tips with them.

Robinson wasn’t just any ordinary ballplayer. He’d crossed professional baseball’s color line when he took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers on April 15, 1947. On that day, he become the first Black player in Major League Baseball in the modern era.

Growing up as a Black boy in Brooklyn, Waldon often listened to games on the radio. When he attended in person, he cheered Robinson from the stands. He still remembers it as one of the most inspiring times of his life.

“It changed how you felt about yourself,” recalls Waldon, who grew up to become a U.S. congressman from New York. “We had more glide in our stride and dip in our hips.”

It's been 75 years. Robinson’s debut with the Dodgers is still viewed as one of the most important moments in civil rights history. Segregation at the time was deeply rooted in the United States. From neighborhoods and schools to the military, color lines existed throughout American society. Robinson became a beacon of hope, and his rise suggested that all of the color lines could also be broken. But paving the way on the ballfield wouldn’t be easy. Robinson would have to overcome challenges no athlete had faced before.

“His legacy is not only that he broke the color line in this very important and high-profile sport,” says Gerald Early, a professor of African American studies at Washington University in St. Louis, “but also the level of discipline and self-control that it took for this experiment to work, and to show people that integration could work.”

“His legacy is not only that he broke the color line in this very important and high-profile sport,” says Gerald Early, a professor of African American studies at Washington University in St. Louis, “but also the level of discipline and self-control that it took for this experiment to work, and to show people that integration could work.”

When Robinson was growing up in Pasadena, California, segregation plagued the nation, especially in the South. Jim Crow laws and local customs prohibited Black people from using the same public facilities as White people—including restaurants, schools, and even bathrooms and water fountains.

Segregation extended into baseball, America’s most popular sport at the time. Since the 1880s, Major League team owners had maintained a “gentleman’s agreement,” or an unwritten rule, to keep Black players out of the league. Prohibited from playing in the Majors, Black Americans—as well as Latin Americans—formed their own leagues, called the Negro* Leagues. Players in the Negro Leagues were just as talented as those in the Major Leagues, but they were paid far less. As they traveled through segregated towns, they were frequently turned away at Whites-only hotels, restaurants, and gas stations.

Robinson enrolled at the University of California, Los Angeles (U.C.L.A.) in 1939, where he became the school’s first four-sport varsity athlete—earning fame in baseball, basketball, track and field, and football. Three years later, after the U.S. entered World War II (1939-45), he was drafted into the U.S. Army, serving like 1.2 million other Black men in segregated units.

Robinson grew up in Pasadena, California. During his childhood, segregation plagued the nation, especially in the South. Jim Crow laws and local customs kept Black people from using the same public facilities as White people. That included restaurants, schools, and even bathrooms and water fountains.

Segregation extended into baseball, America’s most popular sport at the time. Since the 1880s, Major League team owners had kept Black players out of the league. They maintained the ban by a “gentleman’s agreement,” or an unwritten rule. Unable to play in the Majors, Black Americans—as well as Latin Americans—formed their own leagues. They were called the Negro Leagues. Players in the Negro Leagues were just as talented as those in the Major Leagues, but they were paid far less. As they traveled through segregated towns, they often got turned away at Whites-only hotels, restaurants, and gas stations.

Robinson enrolled at the University of California, Los Angeles (U.C.L.A.) in 1939. He became the school’s first four-sport varsity athlete—earning fame in baseball, basketball, track and field, and football. Three years later, after the U.S. entered World War II (1939-45), he was drafted into the U.S. Army. He went on to serve in a segregated unit, like 1.2 million other Black men.

In August 1945, Rickey invited Robinson to his office at Ebbets Field, where the Brooklyn Dodgers played. In his autobiography I Never Had It Made, Robinson recounts how Rickey hurled every insult he could think of that Robinson might encounter to test how the ballplayer would respond.

“Mr. Rickey,” Robinson asked, “are you looking for a Negro who is afraid to fight back?”

“I’m looking for a ballplayer with guts enough not to fight back,” Rickey replied.

Not retaliating wouldn’t be easy for Robinson, who had railed against discrimination earlier in his life (see “A Civil Rights Pioneer” below). But he agreed to play by Rickey’s rules if it meant putting an end to baseball’s color line.

“He was a man who had great racial pride,” says Early, the professor, “and great willingness to sacrifice for his people.”

In August 1945, Rickey invited Robinson to his office at Ebbets Field, where the Brooklyn Dodgers played. In his autobiography I Never Had It Made, Robinson recounts how Rickey hurled every insult he could think of that Robinson might face to test how the ballplayer would respond.

“Mr. Rickey,” Robinson asked, “are you looking for a Negro who is afraid to fight back?”

“I’m looking for a ballplayer with guts enough not to fight back,” Rickey replied.

Robinson had fought against discrimination earlier in his life. Not striking back wouldn’t be easy for him (see “A Civil Rights Pioneer” below). But he agreed to play by Rickey’s rules if it meant putting an end to baseball’s color line.

“He was a man who had great racial pride,” says Early, the professor, “and great willingness to sacrifice for his people.”

Sure enough, when Robinson joined the Dodgers in 1947, there were already signs of trouble. Some of his teammates began preparing a petition, saying they wouldn’t play with a Black man. A few asked to be traded. And some teams discussed going on strike.

But league officials and the Dodgers staff came to Robinson’s defense. On opening day of the 1947 season, Robinson made history when he stepped onto Ebbets Field for the Brooklyn Dodgers, in front of more than 26,000 fans. But his impact went beyond the baseball diamond.

“You have made every Negro in America proud,” the civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. would later tell Robinson, “through your baseball prowess and your inflexible demand for equal opportunity for all.” 

Sure enough, when Robinson joined the Dodgers in 1947, there were already signs of trouble. Some of his teammates began preparing a petition, saying they wouldn’t play with a Black man. A few asked to be traded. And some teams discussed going on strike.

But league officials and the Dodgers staff came to Robinson’s defense. On opening day of the 1947 season, Robinson made history when he stepped onto Ebbets Field for the Brooklyn Dodgers. More than 26,000 fans attended the game that day. But his impact went beyond the baseball diamond.

“You have made every Negro in America proud,” the civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. would later tell Robinson, “through your baseball prowess and your inflexible demand for equal opportunity for all.” 

After baseball, Robinson remained active in the quest for racial equality. In the 1960s, Robinson traveled to the Deep South, giving speeches at demonstrations that would help lead to the passage of civil rights legislation, such as the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which outlawed segregation in public places. Robinson also wrote a weekly newspaper column where he continued to fight for civil rights in sports and beyond.

On October 24, 1972—10 years after he was inducted into baseball’s Hall of Fame—Robinson suffered a heart attack and died at just 53 years old. Today, his number, 42, is the only number retired throughout Major League Baseball. The only time it’s worn is on Jackie Robinson Day each April 15, when every player in the league wears number 42 on his back in Robinson’s honor.

Indeed, 75 years after his debut with the Dodgers, Robinson’s legacy continues. In recent years, many professional athletes—from Colin Kaepernick to LeBron James to Maya Moore and other W.N.B.A. stars—have spoken out against racial injustice. Many historians say that if Robinson were alive today, he would support those athletes standing up against discrimination.

“If I had a room jammed with trophies,” Robinson once wrote, “and a child of mine came into that room and asked what I had done in defense of black people and decent whites fighting for freedom, and I had to tell that child that I had kept quiet, that I had been timid, I would have to mark myself a total failure at the whole business of living.”

After baseball, Robinson stayed active in the quest for racial equality. In the 1960s, Robinson traveled to the Deep South. There, he gave speeches at demonstrations that would help ensure civil rights. That included the passage of laws like the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which outlawed segregation in public places. Robinson also wrote a weekly newspaper column where he continued to fight for civil rights in sports and beyond.

On October 24, 1972, Robinson suffered a heart attack and died at just 53 years old. Only 10 years earlier, he was inducted into baseball’s Hall of Fame. Today, his number, 42, is the only number retired throughout Major League Baseball. The only time it’s worn is on Jackie Robinson Day each April 15. During the celebration, every player in the league wears number 42 on his back in Robinson’s honor.

Indeed, 75 years after his debut with the Dodgers, Robinson’s legacy continues. In recent years, many professional athletes have spoken out against racial injustice. That includes a range of athletes, from Colin Kaepernick to LeBron James to Maya Moore and other W.N.B.A. stars. Many historians say that if Robinson were alive today, he would support those athletes standing up against discrimination.

“If I had a room jammed with trophies,” Robinson once wrote, “and a child of mine came into that room and asked what I had done in defense of black people and decent whites fighting for freedom, and I had to tell that child that I had kept quiet, that I had been timid, I would have to mark myself a total failure at the whole business of living.”

^{*The term Negro, referring to Black Americans, was in common use in the middle of the 20th century but today would be considered offensive.}

^{*The term Negro, referring to Black Americans, was in common use in the middle of the 20th century but today would be considered offensive.}