Happy July 4th week everyone! Let’s set aside the cynicism of the political press and celebrate democracy like we really care about it.

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Chicago, which has a special place in our family’s history, is on my mind this week. My father was stationed there during World War II. Seventy-four years ago today—on July 1, 1950—the newlyweds Tom and Helen Brown pulled into Chicago for their honeymoon after traveling all night on The Georgian, which they boarded in Nashville’s Union Station. On July 4th, the honeymooners took in a White Sox vs. St. Louis Browns game at Cominsky Park. Several years later the family took the first vacation that’s part of my personal memory bank. We went to Chicago.

Holidays such as Independence Day are a good time to consider memories. We often plan and celebrate these days of remembrance based upon family traditions or past experiences. On Thursday, for instance, Candice and I will attend the annual Takoma Park Independence Day parade. I’ll take another picture of our congressman to add to my collection. Later, we’ll fire up the grill for dinner. That’s what we do.

Memory is an essential part of consciousness. While memory is the remembrance of things that have happened, it is not always about the past. The writer Richard Powers suggests that “Life has a way of talking to the future. It’s called memory.”

While lecturing around the world with National Trust Tours I suggest that memories are one of the key reasons we should care about old places. So many memories are tied to old places. Landmarks help us tell our stories.

It is important, however, to remember Marie Howe‘s assertion that “memory is a poet, not a historian.” Memories fade with time and they change as others share the story of the same event. Points get lost—or found—in translation. What begins as metaphor ends up being repeated as fact. Memories are shaped and reshaped in thousands of ways we seldom recognize or acknowledge. Our memories are not infallible. All of which suggests that there will be differences in how we see places, whether in our hometown or halfway around the world.

These truths hit home recently as I was cleaning out the garage.

My mother kept amazing scrapbooks. I don’t know how she did it with five children, but I came across two of mine in our ongoing project of decluttering the house. They were full of photographs, mom’s notes, and . . . oh, yes . . . this little bit of history.

I’ve long reminded my siblings that I was the only one in the family to win a national award in a cutest baby contest. And here’s the proof!

But then I came face-to-face with the realization that at times my memory is more poetic than historic. I’ve often told the story that I went to my first major league baseball game at Wrigley Field during a 1964 family vacation to Chicago. I wax eloquently about how we saw the Cubs play the St. Louis Cardinals in the year the Cards were World Series Champions.

Except I had the wrong year. Mom’s notes in the scrapbook were clear: our Chicago vacation took place in 1963.

Oops.

The Los Angeles Dodgers were 1963 World Series champions. I was correct about the winners of the 1964 Series, but that’s not the year I saw the Cardinals play.

Now I’ll have to revise my stories. And my memories.

Mom helpfully pasted the program in my scrapbook, where it still reminds me of the famous names in both dugouts. Hall-of-Famers Stan “The Man” Musial and Bob Gibson were there that day, along with Curt Flood who should be in the Hall of Fame except for the fact that the owners blacklisted him for his role in gaining free agency for ballplayers. There were other excellent everyday players for the Cards such as Ken Boyer and Tim McCarver (who made the HOF as a broadcaster).

Not everyone was great, of course. Outfielder Charley James said the following about his most famous Cardinal teammate that year:

“Stan (Musial) and I get along very well. He goes his way and I go mine. Stan goes to the deposit window and I go to the credit department.”

The Cubbies weren’t as good, of course, but they still featured Hall-of-Famers Ernie “Let’s play two” Banks, Lou Brock (who had fine seasons with the Cubs before going over and completing his HOF career with the Cardinals), Ron Santo, and Billy Williams. Their pitchers were all forgettable.

The program was a treasure trove of information and memories.

Box seats for the Friday, July 26, 1963, game would set you back $3.00. I sat in that section a few years ago, with tickets that were a gift from a friend. If $3 was too rich for your wallet in 1963 you could sit in the grandstand for $1.51 (tax included) for adults and 60 cents for children. This is where I sat for that memorable game with my family. Then there were also the bleacher seats (where I’ve also watched a game) which would set you back 75 cents. I’m pretty sure I paid much more than that in 2012.

Because baseball keeps such wonderful records (at least for the segregated white major leagues), I now know that the Cards won that 1963 game 4-1. Musial, in his last year, did not play. The two-time Cy Young Award winner (for best pitcher) and one-time league MVP Bob Gibson was the winning pitcher that day, going a full nine innings. Both Williams and Banks doubled off the tough righthander, while Boyer had the game’s only homerun for the Cardinals. Gibson—a great athlete and a ferocious competitor (his Wins Above Replacement was 89.2, in the top 50 in baseball history)—got an RBI that day. In 2024 we don’t even let the pitchers hit.

Played in front of 17,917 fans, including the Brown family, the game took a brisk 2:04.

Emotions run through places.

Let your memories take you back to some wonderful spot with family and friends this week. But don’t be too hard on yourself if a few of the facts slip. Just get the poetry right.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo by Rirri on Unsplash