Category Archives: Baseball Glove and Mitts
Last week I mentioned (see: My First Baseball Militaria At-bat; I Lead-off with the Marine Corps) that I was preparing for a public showing of my collection of baseball militaria at a local minor league ballpark. As a brief follow-up (ahead of an upcoming article about that experience) I should say that the experience and reception was incredible and a great success! Since I am on the subject of reviewing my recent open ended articles that may have left some readers wondering, I did have a great experience with my first restoration of a vintage baseball bat (read: Nothing To Write? I Think I’ll Just Restore a Vintage Bat, Instead).
In recent years, I connected with a few groups of fellow baseball memorabilia collectors with the idea that I wanted to learn from and share my own information among a gathering of others who have a wealth of knowledge. Sharing with and drawing from others who have been collecting for decades longer and in areas that I hadn’t previously committed much energy has served me well and opened my eyes to the extent of passion that others possess. In terms of collecting bats, I only had a smattering of pieces of lumber that I either acquired in anticipation of obtaining a player’s signature or that I landed while working at the aforementioned minor league ballpark, decades ago. Though my scant collection included some game-used wood from players who never went far with their professional careers, it was fun to have their bats (which were signed at one point since I obtained them). The other sticks in my collection were vintage store-model (they look very similar to what professional players receive from manufacturers but are sold in sporting goods stores for amateur use or autographs) bats.
Last year, I obtained an early 1950s store model, Ferris Fain signature bat that had seen a lot of use and abuse. In addition to the heavy wear, accumulation of dirty grime and house paint spills, the bat had extremely faint manufacturer’s stamps and the player’s signature mark was nearly impossible to see. Professional model bats (for game use) have deep and distinct, burned-in markings that are quite difficult to obscure with use and time but the same is untrue for these lightly-marked store-purchased pieces of lumber. Rather than the burned-brands, thes Louisville Sluggers have foil-stamped (the stamps are subtle) marks that get worn or rubbed off with use. By no means am I a vintage bat expert but I have some excellent resources to draw from. In terms of Hillerich and Bradsby (maker of the most famous brand, Louisville Slugger), this reference is very detailed in providing information to discern age and models of ‘Slugger bats.
Store model bats, though sought after by collectors, are quite affordable and can be great display pieces when shown with other items (jerseys, caps, gloves, autographed photos, cards, etc.) when costly game-used bats are unavailable or unobtainable. Player-signature store model bats were made bearing the autographs of the more prevalent stars of the game. Some signature models were continued far beyond the career years of players that transcended the game. However, with some of the more mercurial stars like Fain whose career burned brightly and faded quickly due to his all-out style of play and propensity for injuries (and fighting), signature bats are considerably more scarce. Scarcity doesn’t necessarily drive demand or values upward as they do for well-knowns such as Mantle or Williams (with store-model bat production in orders of magnitude far above Fain models) however, for collectors like me, landing one of his bats in any condition is a bit of a boon. In terms of baseball militaria, a Fain signature (store model) bat would not be a part of any collection as he wouldn’t have had such a bat made for him until he was established in the major leagues in the years following his wartime service in the Army Air Force.
When I brought this bat home and shared it among my fellow collectors, the reception for such a beat-up old stick was mixed with one collector (whom I greatly respect) offering the suggestion of unloading it in favor of one in better condition. The recommendation was that my bat wasn’t worth any restorative effort. Taking this input with a grain of salt, the collector also gave me guidance on how I should proceed and the careful steps that I should take along with the products that I should use in order to protect the patina and signs of use while cleaning it up.
Removing the grime
This bat was quite darkened by usage and years of handling and storage (no doubt in someone’s garage among the paints and garden tools). The surface was heavily oxidized to a dirty gray hue and had a variety of stains and markings from various objects that made contact with the bat. Soaking a small area of a paper towel with Goo Gone, I began to gently massage the handle of the bat exercising a bit of caution and hesitancy as the dirt began to slightly dissipate on the wood’s surface. Moving around the handle and downward (towards the barrel), I continued to wet the paper towel and lift away the dirt a little bit at a time. After nearly an hour, I completed the entire surface and noted that very little was removed despite the appearance of the nearly blackened paper towels that I had been using. After a few more hours of working the bat and noting only slight improvements (while absolutely none of the paint was removed), I decided that something more aggressive than paper was required to cut through the years of soiling.
Needing something with a bit more abrasive power, I grabbed a section of 0000 steel wool, wetted it with the Goo Gone and repeated the cleaning cycle. The steel wool began to peel away the layers of dirt with relative ease leaving a warm, aged color to the wood while retaining the usage markings and indentations in tact. The paint required a bit more attention but was no match for the fine grit of the steel pad.
Restoring the Foil Stamps
Fortunately with store-model Louisville Slugger bats, the brand and signature markings can be distinguishable even if the black foil (which resembles the burned-in brand has faded or been worn off. Since none of the black foil remained on my bat, I decided to replace it with something indelible and that would hold up to the final step in the restoration process (reconditioning the wood surface with oil). Any novice restorer might be convinced that locating an extra fine tipped pen (to re-trace the near-needle-thin lines) would be well-suited for such a task. However, ink would be problematic when met with linseed oil. If one were to forego the oil-reconditioning, the ink would be subject to oxidation and fading with time. What my fellow collector recommended was to use a pen that, instead of paint as its medium, acrylic black paint would be used to fill in the stamps and markings. The challenge that I faced in seeking a paint pen marker was to locate one with an extra-fine head and unfortunately, the best option was a 1.5mm tip. I used the Molotow ONE4ALL Acrylic Paint Marker, 1.5mm and a boatload of patience.
At my age, free-hand tracing of fine lines required the use of ample light and magnification to be able to see the original markings. Using a jeweler’s magnifying lamp afforded me with the best opportunity to carefully guide the pen through each stamped indentation. For those who are not familiar with the mechanics of paint pens, they can be quite a challenge as they require depressing of the tip (in order to draw the paint downward) which can be a bit messy and cause more paint to flow onto the bat’s surface than intended. I recommend using a newspaper to press the tip of the pen to the desired paint-saturation. I spent a few hours, stopping to rest my eyes and hand at intervals and to allow the paint to dry and avoid transferring it to my hand and to other areas of the bat.
Once the painting was done on both the brand and the signature stampings, I didn’t like the crispness of the paint. I also had a few spots where I was unable to keep the pen tip within the lines. I followed the painting with careful and deliberate application of dry steel wool removing the over-painted areas and the shiny paint surface to match the used and aged condition of the bat.
All that remains with the restoration of the Ferris Fain bat is to carefully apply linseed oil to properly treat the surface of the wood. Looking through my wood finishing supplies I see that I am lacking in linseed oil which will leave this Fain bat unfinished at present.
When I began my research for my lone World War II vintage U.S. Navy service glove, I inadvertently discovered an obituary for a man who passed away in 2002. In quickly reading the article, I noticed that he had a moniker, “the Glove Doctor” and I was interested in learning more about him as he was also mentioned as the glove designer for the Rawlings Sporting Goods Company, a role (along with the moniker) he inherited from his father, Harry Latina. In my article about Elmer Riddle and his signature glove, I focused on the aspect that though the pitcher never served in the armed forces, gloves bearing his name saw service across the globe throughout both theaters of combat operations.
To most non-ballplayers and non-collectors, a baseball glove is nothing more than a functional tool constructed of animal skin that is intended to assist the baseball player in receiving the (seemingly) rock-hard baseball from its flight having been batted or thrown. The soft leather and padding provide the fielder with more surface area for sure-handed catches and insulation to reduce pain from the impact of the fast-moving orb into their hand. It is purely a fundamentally functional object. However, to the ball player and collector, the glove has vastly more significance.
In the book, For the Love of Baseball: A Celebration of the Game That Connects Us All, Stefan Fatsis wrote in his essay, My Glove: A Biography,“ that he had wanted to “write about my glove for years. Not only is it the single most personal object that I own – the one thing that I would be devastated to lose – it is my last, best connection to the baseball that defined my life as a kid. Not just playing the game incessantly, but being a crazy fan of it, too. My glove is a reminder that the innocence and thrill that made baseball so great and so important still exist in this thirty-year-old hunk of leather.” The glove is the long-lasting personal interface between the individual and the game. One might argue that the same could be said of other equipment; bats, uniforms, spikes or even the ball itself; all of these items are either subject to wear or obsolescence during a season or even within a single game. A ballplayer’s glove will last for an entire career. In holding my own glove (that I have used since I was an adolescent) or my WWII vintage Elmer Riddle, I never once thought of the person who invested his time and expertise into the design or the significance of the imprinted patent numbers that can be found on many of them.
With minimal research effort, one can easily see how Harry B. Latina had an incredible impact on the game beginning with his work immediately following World War I. According to The Fascinating History Of The Baseball Glove, “Rawlings came to the forefront of glove manufacturing in 1919, when St. Louis (Cardinals) pitcher Bill Doak went to the company with the idea of putting a web between the thumb and index finger. Known as the Bill Doak glove, it transformed the way a baseball glove was viewed: no longer as a means of protection, but as a tool.” The primary person at Rawlings who worked with Doak was Harry “The Glove Doctor” Latina who would be on the forefront of countless innovations and patents that would vault Rawlings to the forefront of glove manufacturers over the course of the Twentieth Century.
Aside from the many advancements in baseball glove design, perhaps Harry’s greatest contribution to baseball originated within his family. Harry and his wife, Florence had three children: Harry B. Jr., Roland and Carol Lee “Mimi.” In the 1940 federal census, Harry Jr is listed as an assemblyman with an electric motor manufacturer, heading in a different direction from his father as did Carol Lee. Roland, however took an interest in his father’s profession joining him at Rawlings a few years following the end of World War II (in 1947).
“What does all of this have to do with the military?” you might ask. I could stretch out the idea that Rollie worked with ballplayers returning to the major leagues from the war (he did) but that isn’t it. I could refer to Rollie’s father’s innovations appearing on the makeshift ballfields in the war theaters, but that isn’t it, either. No, Harry’s middle child contributed to the war effort of his own accord, enlisting to serve in the United States Navy soon after graduating from high school in East St. Louis, IL in 1942. In researching Rollie’s service, the Gunners’ Mate spent his time serving in the Pacific theater aboard a few ships as well as an amphibious landing group aboard a Landing Craft Tank (LCT).
Latina’s earlier ships, the Anthedon and Clytie were both part of the Navy’s auxiliary Forces – submarine tenders (essentially, sea-going submarine repair, refit and refueling facilities) before he made his way to the front lines. Serving aboard landing craft – vessels that deliver U.S. Marines and SeaBees to enemy-held beaches while under fire could be considerably hazardous duty during the island-hopping allied offensive in the Pacific Theater. With further research, one might be able to determine more specifically the battles and engagements his units may have participated in. Prior to his LCT service, GM3/c Latina detached from the Clytie and was assigned to serve under the Commander Seventh Amphibious Force, Rear Admiral Daniel Barbey for a few months before reporting aboard USS LST 881.
During the next two years following Latina’s service during the war, he joined his father at Rawlings working alongside Harry as he learned the art of glove-making while listening to professional ballplayers to continue the advancement of designs. When Harry Latina retired, Rollie took over the role and soon became known by the same “glove doctor” moniker that was with his father for more than 40 years. Rollie would retire from Rawlings in 1986 having developed many of his own patented designs:
A Sampling of Rollie “The Glove Doctor” Latina’s Patents:
- Wrist strap construction for a baseball glove
- Ball glove having a concave backstop
- Baseball glove construction
As a collector of baseball militaria, I am constantly researching and educating myself about the men and the equipment, ephemera, documents and uniforms they used in and surrounding the game in association with military service. The more that I educate myself I discover that there is considerably more to learn and this mindset holds true with WWII gloves and their makers. Part of my education process is to capture and document as much information regarding gloves that were used by service members, focused primarily upon the WWII time-frame. I am hopeful that the result of this effort would be some form of a visual database that collectors can refer to when they acquire a military glove.
- Sports Illustrated: Glove Story
- Baseball’s Glove Man – Bob Clevenhagen
- For the Love of Baseball: A Celebration of the Game that Connects Us All
- Good Glove photos are tough to find – Harry/Rollie Latina Photos
- Rawlings’ Patents
- Rawlings Sporting Goods Co., Inc. History
- Rawlings’ ‘Glove Doctor’ dies
- Roland Latina’s Findagrave Memorial
With a few of my earlier posts, I have covered some of the professional ball players who temporarily traded their professional flannels in exchange for a uniform of the armed forces. While some of these men filled the ranks both in combat and support units, others used their professional skills to provide the troops with a temporary escape from the harsh realities of the war by providing them with a taste of home that can be found within the lines of the baseball diamond.
According to Gary Bedingfield’s extensive research, more than 4,500 professional baseball players placed their careers on hold in order to serve in the effort to defeat fascism and tyranny that was sweeping across Europe, Asia and the South Pacific. There were more than 500 major league ball players who served in the armed forces throughout the more than four years of the war (including the last few weeks of December, 1941 when many players like Bob Feller rushed to enlist). Conversely, there were roughly 2,800 men who continued to play major league baseball during the same period, avoiding service for a myriad of reasons (age, unfit for duty, etc.). I have focused this blog on two over-arching subjects; baseball militaria – items used on the diamond (or in relation to it) by servicemen who may or may not have played the game professionally; the people who played the game during their time in uniform. Today’s post, while centered on a contextual (to this blog) object, it also addresses one of the nearly 3,000 MLB players who never served and yet was well-represented on the diamonds across both the European and Pacific theaters during WWII.
Before I delve into the subject matter of this article, I must first offer a disclaimer that I am decidedly not a baseball glove collector nor do I possess any measure of expertise on this very interesting area of baseball collecting. With this being the Chevrons and Diamonds blog where I provide research and insight pertaining to baseball militaria, my interest is more broad. As I researched this topic, I realize that expertise in military gloves and mitts are significantly more specialized and as with other areas of military baseball, is limited (at least that is my assertion) as compared to baseball gloves outside of what was used during the war.
As a Navy veteran, I tend to focus my collecting interest around naval-themed items and within the realm of military baseball, I remain consistent. When I began looking at obtaining a baseball glove for my collection, I found a World War II vintage model that was rather ragged and yet held my interest as it was stamped, “U.S.N.” across the wrist strap. Before making the purchase, I took note that the glove was also missing the web between the thumb and index finger and that there were fragments of the leather lacing remaining protruding from a few of the heavily-oxidized eyelets. I considered the condition and weighed it against the current pricing trends and decided to make the purchase, thinking that I would be able to get the glove into shape.
When the glove arrived a few days later, I unzipped the two-gallon sized zip-locked bag to find not only was it, at one point water-damaged with remnants of mildew or mold, but also that the leather was dried and cracking. It was in far worse shape than I anticipated. Perhaps this was the reason that I was able to acquire it for less than so many other of the scarcer Navy versions had been selling at premium prices in the months prior to me pulling the trigger on this one. In the few years since, only a smattering have since been listed in online auctions. Regardless, this dried out, cracking and smelly glove is now in my possession and it is my desire to attempt to breathe new life into it with the hope that I leave it in better condition than when I received it.
I broke one of my self-established collecting rules; before I purchase it, I had virtually no understanding of vintage glove models, styles, manufacturers or the many details that a true glove collector can recite with ease. My extent of knowledge stems from examining vintage photographs and taking a peripheral view into what a fielder or position player may have on his catching hand. To me, the all generally appeared the same. Until I began researching for this article, I hadn’t spent any time attempting to understand how diverse and expansive vintage baseball glove field really is. In the coming months, I hope to take some deeper dives into this area of collecting as it pertains to military service teams and the gloves that were issued to the members of the armed forces.
After a cursory pass in working over the dried leather of my Navy-issued glove (with Horseman’s One Step Leather Cleaner & Condition), I began to see some of the markings that might lead me to determine the manufacturer. One of the obvious markings was the “DW” stamped just above the heel. After nearly two weeks (following the treatment of the leather), more of the manufacturer’s stampings and markings began to emerge as the leather became supple and started to return to its previous shape. Beneath the DW, “Hand Formed Pad” was discernible. Towards the pinky-finger side of the palm, remnants of a signature were visible – “Riddle” with “Trademark” centered directly below. A quick search of the web revealed that the glove was a GoldSmith Elmer Riddell fielder’s glove model.
Armed with details of the make and model of the glove, I spent some investigating the details in trying to confirm the age (I wanted to be certain that the glove, though marked as a U.S.N., that it was, in fact, from the WWII time-frame). I also wanted to gain a little bit of an understanding about the other information present on the glove:
- Inside the glove on the heel pad:
- Horesehide Lining
- On the outer heel pad:
- Hand Formed Pad
- On the pinky side-edge:
- Elmer Riddle (signature)
- In the palm:
- Inner Processed
- GoldSmith (logo)
- a Preferred Product (trademark)
To properly date the glove, the logo is the most revealing aspect (which, in the case of my glove is partially discernible). As with so many companies, logos changed during significant events (such as mergers, ownership changes, spin-offs, etc.). Noting that my glove has the GoldSmith logo along with the “A Preferred Product” trademark, it predates the merger with the golf brand, MacGregor which occurred between 1945-46 (in 1946, the company changed their name and logo to MacGregor-GoldSmith). By 1952, The company was known solely as MacGregor. Prior to 1938, the company logo was different and the name was P. GoldSmith (named for its founder, Phillip GoldSmith). Considering the company name and logo, I am able to determine that the manufacturing date of the glove lies somewhere in the 1938-44 range. There is still more information that will narrow this date range down.
The glove has a major-league pitcher’s endorsement (as indicated by the signature that is embossed), Elmer Riddle who played from 1939 to 1949 with the Cincinnati Reds and Pittsburgh Pirates. His best years were 1941, 1943 and 1948 (his only all-star season). Most likely, Riddle signed an endorsement deal with the P. GoldSmith Company during the early part of the war in 1942 following his ’41 19-2 season (he was the 4th runner-up in MVP balloting). With all of the information at my disposal I determined that my glove was made between 1942-44. Aside from my brilliant deduction skills, I am also fairly adept at tapping into available resources and knowledgeable experts. I reached out to a fellow collector who has a fantastic wealth of information in his site, KeyManCollectibles.com, specifically his Baseball Glove Dating Guide.
In viewing his archive of catalogs, the 1942 GoldSmith Preferred glove catalog shows the initial appearance within their Professional Model glove product line, sharing the page with the RL Model – with the Leo Durocher signature. The product description reads:
“Compact, flexible, streamlined, “Natural Contour” Model (Licensed under Pat. No. 2231204) bearing signature of Elmer Riddle, of the Cincinnati “Reds”. Genuine horsehide with full horsehide lining, and hand formed asbestos felt pad. Inner processed greased palm, oiled back. Leather welted diverted finger seams and reinforced thumb seam. Roll leather bound edge, roll leather bound wrist, leather laced through metal eyelets. Improved double tunnel web with leather connector, laced through metal eyelets. Wide leather wrist strap.”
(Note: seeing that the glove is constructed with asbestos in the padding, I need to be careful in handling the glove as the leather is cracking and could open up enough to create an exposure risk.)
In the process of learning about this particular glove model, I made an interesting discovery. As war was taking hold across Europe, American citizens began to change their stance regarding the conscription (or draft) of young, able-bodied men into compulsory military training as a means of preparedness for what was seemingly inevitable; the United States being drawn into war. With President Roosevelt’s signing of the Selective Training and Service act of 1940, the first U.S. peacetime military conscription commenced requiring all men aged 21 to 35 to report for 12 months of service. By 1941, the age range was expanded, reducing the minimum age to 18 and the upper age to 37 and extended the length of service to 18 months.
As I viewed Mr. Riddle’s stats, I took note that he had no broken time during the war which stood out as a curiosity considering that he was a 27 year-old athlete who was actively playing baseball. While many of his peers were helping with the war effort (away from professional ball), Riddle continued to play the game. During the 1943 season, Elmer Riddle had a very productive season, making 36 appearances (starting 33 games) and winning 21 (he completed 19). In 260 innings, he only surrendered 6 homeruns. How could he have avoided the draft (provided he didn’t volunteer)? There are a number of deferments that were applied to a large number of men who fell into the age range of selective service. One thought that often arises when discovering a person who didn’t serve during WWII is the only son or only surviving son provision within the Selective Service Act (the premise of the fictionalized portrayal of retrieving a sole surviving son in the film, Saving Private Ryan). However, this provision only applies to peacetime conscription. During a national emergency or Congressionally declared war, even sole surviving and only sons will be called to serve. What is baffling is that even Riddle’s older half-brother, catcher Johnny Riddle, played along side Elmer in Cincinnati, avoiding service in the armed forces.
Prior to the 1944 season, he reported (in March) for and passed his pre-induction physical. According to Riddle’s bio at the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR) website, “The Army advised him to report to spring training while awaiting induction. Apparently, he was never called up, because, according to United Press sportswriter Jack Cuddy, he started the season ‘like a burning haystack.’”
While Elmer Riddle never served his country in the armed forces, his name, affixed to a lot of baseball gloves, saw action wherever GIs took breaks from combat action. According to Vintage-Baseball-Gloves.com, the GoldSmith DW Elmer Riddle glove is, “THE (sic) classic wartime glove. More of these were issued than all other models combined.” I can almost imagine players like Joe DiMaggio and Pee Wee Reese donning an Elmer Riddle glove as they took the field in one of their many service team ballgames. While most collectors might not enjoy it, I do see the lovely irony.
More details regarding the GoldSmith/MacGregor-Goldsmith DW Model Glove
GoldSmith (and MacGregor-Goldsmith) produced (at least) three DW models of the fielder’s glove:
- GoldSmith DW – Elmer Riddle (years played: ’39-47 CIN; ’48-49 PIT)
- MacGregor-GoldSmith DW – Joe Cronin (years played: ’26-27 PIT; ’28-34 WAS; ’35-45 BOS [AL])
- MacGregor-GoldSmith DW – Buddy Kerr (years played: ’43-49 NYG; ’50-51 BOS [NL])
A few collectors noted that the initials in reference to models pertain to the original player for whom the signature model was created.
- MO – Mel Ott model
- PD – Paul Derringer model
- CG – Charlie Gehringer
- RL – Red Lucas model (subsequently becoming a Leo Durocher endorsed model when the LD Durocher was dropped)
- JC – Joe Cronin model (however the JCL model was a Pete Reiser signature model and yet Goldsmith never created PR model)
- HC – Harold Craft model (which transitioned to a Dixie Walker endorsed model)
Consistency is king in helping archaeologists, archivists and researches to easily map out how companies conducted their businesses and yet seldom do we find that they were consistent. As noted in the very brief sample of the GoldSmith/MacGregor-GoldSmith glove model list, the DW model did not have a ballplayer for whom the letters represented. It is assumed by collectors that it was created for Dixie Walker (most notable with his tenure in Brooklyn) and yet the glove he ended up endorsing was the (MacGregor-Goldsmith HC model (formerly the Harold Craft model). Why was the first player signature glove for Elmer Riddle the DW model rather than an ER?
In my younger days, I dabbled in baseball card collecting and focused primarily on cards from the 1950s and 60s. Being a lifelong Dodgers fan, I sought out specific cards from “my” team. I was myopic with the cards that I pursued. This hyper focus was in direct alignment with my limited budget as I had to take into account that the cards of my favorite ballplayers were also some of the most valuable and sought after by collectors. For example, I couldn’t attempt to acquire an entire 1956 Topps set, opting instead to pursue the 1956 Topps cards of the Brooklyn Dodgers (which included Hall of Famers, Sandy Koufax, Duke Snider, Pee Wee Reese, Jackie Robinson and Roy Campanella).
Over those years, I pieced together “team sets” from 1955 and 1956 of my beloved Bums from Brooklyn landing some very nice examples (though none have been graded) of the likes of Roy Campanella, Jackie Robinson, “The Duke” and many more. Acquiring Sandy Kofax and Don Drysdale rookie cards we crowning achievements from those days. My interest in the cards tapered off and I put it all away when I realized that the money I invested would not yield a return should I decide to divest it. I also started a family which further reduced my disposable income. I moved away from collecting all together.
Years later, I received two groups of military treasures that belonged to my grandfather and grand uncle, sparking an interest in researching and learning about military history and my family connection to history. My interest in military baseball was piqued when I received my paternal grandmother’s photo album from the 1930s and saw the images of her little brother in his navy ship’s baseball uniform, posed for team photographs. I was reminded of my own participation with my ship’s baseball (and football) teams when I served in the Navy. I was hooked but only did I slowly begin to research America’s Pastime and how it is intertwined with the military.
When I was contacted by Gary Bedingfield regarding research that he was conducting for his (then) book project (that would become Baseball’s Dead of World War II: A Roster of Professional Players Who Died in Service) as he searched for a sailor who was lost in the Battle of Savo Island, August 8-9, 1942. I was fascinated by his amazing online resource, Baseball in Wartime that primarily focused on professional ball players who traded their spikes for combat boots to fight for our nation. I was able to complete his research, locating Ensign Norman K. Smith who was killed in action aboard the USS Quincy (CA-39). Through spending time immersed in Gary’s site, I noted several of my favorite players who also served in uniform. I was hooked!
My entrance into military baseball collecting was through a purchase of a 1943-44 US Marines road gray wool flannel baseball uniform (jersey and trousers) that was in immaculate, yet game-worn condition. My interest expanded from there as I began gathering vintage photos, scorecards or anything that is associated with men who played ball during their serving this country, dating back to the early years of the 20th Century. Years later, my collection has grown to the point where I was asked to share it with the general public, displaying it my state’s largest fair (which is also ranked in the top 10 largest in the nation) with the potential of as many as 1.4 million visitors viewing this unique baseball collection.