Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

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Memories Surpass Memorabilia, Part 4

Julia Ruth Stevens, Babe Ruth’s last surviving child, passed away in March at age 102. A decade past, I interviewed Stevens – more accurately, had the great joy of listening to wonderful stories about her “Daddy.” With the Major League season underway, it seems the perfect time to share some of her tales. This is the final in a series of four columns.

.  .  .

Babe Ruth fell deathly ill with throat cancer in 1948.

“Most of those days are fuzzy in my mind,” Julia Ruth Stevens recalled, yet more than a half-century later two mental photographs remained in perfect Ansel Adams-like focus.

The first occurred on June 13, 1948. Celebrating the 25th anniversary of Yankee Stadium – “The House That Ruth Built” – The Babe, wearing a topcoat to keep his frail body warm and using a baseball bat as a cane, walked slowly out to home plate as a tumultuous ovation rained down from the triple-decked stands. Once again, and for the final time, Ruth rose to the occasion and managed to croak out a few words into the microphone.

“I was there and I remember that speech,” Julia told me. “It was a very sad occasion – not just for me and his family, but for everyone who was his fan.”

A dying Babe Ruth, using a bat for a cane, at a day in his honor.

An even sadder moment, she said, came after a doctor’s appointment at Sloan-Kettering Memorial Hospital for Cancer and Allied Diseases: “I’ll never forget when he left the hospital. I looked out the window and watched him need help into the car. Poor Daddy, he had been such a rugged man and to see him so frail. I had a tear running down my cheek.”

Babe Ruth, at age 53, died shortly thereafter on August 16, 1948. Four years later, Julia’s only child, Tom, was born.

“I regret (Tom) never met Daddy, but he’s heard a lot of stories,” Julia said. “He’s heard them all.”

The stories of how much Babe Ruth adored children are not exaggerated, according to Julia, who noted: “He loved kids and wanted to bring them sunshine and happiness. I’m certain it was because growing up he was so alone himself.

“I loved to see kids smile when he gave them an autograph. He’d always sign – never turned down a kid for an autograph, or even an adult. He signed almost everything you can imagine: balls and gloves and bats and caps and shirts, ticket stubs and scraps of paper. You name it, if someone asked, Daddy signed it.”

And yet Julia had no such signed memorabilia.

“I don’t have a single bat or ball with Daddy’s autograph,” she said, adding after a moment’s reflection: “Why would I get an autograph from Daddy? I’d never have thought to ask, ‘Daddy, can I have your autograph?’ To me he was just Daddy.”

Actually, she did ask numerous times for her friends – once they learned who her father was.

“I tried as hard as possible when I met someone new to keep it a secret,” Julia shared. “I’d never tell them because I wanted them to like me for who I was, not because I was Babe Ruth’s daughter. Of course, when they’d finally come to my house they’d be speechless.

“I wish I had an (autographed) ball or bat,” Julia went on, yet without a trace of regret in her voice. “But I don’t and that’s fine because I have my memories of Daddy and that’s even better. As great as Daddy was as a ballplayer, he really was just as great as a father. I loved being Babe Ruth’s daughter! It was just so much fun!”

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

*  *  *

‘Daddy’ Ruth was Sultan of Sweetness

Julia Ruth Stevens, Babe Ruth’s last surviving child, passed away last Saturday at age 102. A decade past, I interviewed Stevens – more accurately, had the great joy of listening to her tell wonderful stories about her father. With Major League Baseball’s Opening Day coming this Wednesday, it seems the perfect time to share some of her tales in this space the next few weeks.

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To baseball fans the world round, George Herman “Babe” Ruth was known by a variety of nicknames, from “The Bambino” and “The Sultan of Swat” to “The Colossus of Clout” and “The Wali of Wallop” to “The Maharajah of Mash” and “The Rajah of Rap.”

To a young girl named Julia, however, The Home Run King was known simply as “Daddy.”

“Everywhere we went people worshiped him because he was the famous Babe Ruth,” Julia Ruth Stevens, then 91, told me. “I worshiped him because he was my daddy.”

To the day she died, nine decades after Babe Ruth married Claire Hodgson and adopted her 12-year-old daughter, Julia still affectionately referred to her famous father as “Daddy.”

“We had so much fun together. Daddy couldn’t have been a better father,” Julia said. “Being his daughter, I was the happiest girl in the world!”

Julia with the famous Babe Ruth–just “Daddy” to her.

A trip around the world as her high school graduation present in 1934 was one of Julia’s grandest memories of growing up as Babe Ruth’s daughter. “We went to Japan, India, England, France – I wouldn’t have traded that for anything,” she said.

Her graduation day also provided a memory with a no-trade clause.

“Education was something Daddy really stressed to me. He always regretted the fact that he hadn’t had a real education,” Julia said, explaining that at the Saint Mary’s Industrial Reform School For Boys where Ruth stayed at from age 7 to 19, he had been put to work in a shirt factory at age 12 – ironically the same age Julia was when Ruth adopted her. “So he always promised me he’d be there on my graduation day.”

This was easier said than done because when the big day arrived the New York Yankees were on a road trip in St. Louis.

“Ballplayers weren’t supposed to fly back then because it was thought to be too dangerous.” Julia recounted. “But that was the only way he could get to New York in time, so Daddy flew back anyway. When we got to the airport to pick him up we were told his flight was running two hours late. Graduation was at 1 o’clock and I had to go home and get dressed. The ceremony started without him and Mother arriving.”

Julia paused, warmed by the recollection, and added: “I never doubted he’d make it because Daddy always kept his promises to me.”

Sure enough, before the name “Julia Ruth” was called to receive her diploma a soft buzz began to fill the auditorium.

“I was sitting in the front row and without turning around I knew Daddy was here,” Julia recalled, a lilt in her voice. “When I turned and looked, there he was walking into the back of the room with a beautiful bouquet of flowers for me. I was so happy to see him. He had kept his promise, just as I knew he would. It was absolutely wonderful.”

A similar “absolutely wonderful” occasion was her wedding day when, honoring the bride’s request, Babe Ruth came dressed to the nines in a formal morning suit.

“Daddy walking me down the aisle was one of my proudest moments I’ve ever had,” said Julia, who was then 23.

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

Typing Out A Memorable Story

            Bob Fitch has been married 62 years and in addition to Mo – “most people struggle with Moira, a Scottish name” the husband points out – he loves, to a far lesser degree of course, HO gauge model trains, baseball and typewriters.

In an email, the longtime Thousand Oaks resident shared memories of the latter two, beginning with a high school typing class that changed his life.

“Our teacher, Emma Wrangler, used records to build our speed,” Bob points out. “One I recall most was ‘Tea for Two.’ In my mind’s eye, I can still see her taking the 78-rpm record out of the paper sleeve, putting it on the turntable and setting the needle arm on the record. Then, ‘Ready, Begin.’

“I did well and for high school graduation my grandfather gave me a Remington portable, which I took to college at Bowling Green State University in Ohio. I typed theme papers for other students at 25 cents a page and made some spending money.

“And my speed continued to build. When I reported for basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ, in July 1957, after the busses emptied our incoming class, we were assembled on the parade grounds about midnight.

“The 1st Sergeant yelled out, ‘Who can type?’ Up shot my hand with one other guy. We were told to take our gear to the company HQ dayroom. We typed all night in our ‘civvies’ doing the induction paper work for the rest of the guys.

“When Sgt. Fuentes saw how fast we were processing the men, we were told: ‘You guys are too valuable and your time here will be spent working in my dayroom. When you type duty rosters, i.e. guard duty, KP, etc., leave your names off.’

“The other guy, Steve Gelman, was a sportswriter for ‘Sport Magazine’ and he was a whiz-bang typist from typing all his stories. We hit it off well. We had a great deal and we knew it!

“We spent our entire six months of active duty making Sgt. Fuentes look good with no strikeover morning reports, no misspelling, etc. He was commended by the Commanding Officer for his outstanding paper work. He always thanked us for what we did for him. I’m forever thankful for that typing class. He always took us to the mess hall with him for coffee in the morning. He knew, too, he had a good deal!

“When our class cycled out after eight weeks of basic, in came another group of recruits and Steve and I did ‘our thing.’

Here, at last, comes the baseball memory of two Hall of Fame pitchers and a star second baseman for the Dodgers.

“My claim to fame,” Bob continued, “is that I typed the paperwork for

Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax and Charlie Neal when they were called to Army duty.

“We each sat behind a beat-up wooden desk with our typewriter before us and there was a chair at the side of the desk where the individual sat. We would say, ‘Last name, first name,’ etc. as we tabbed to the blanks on the forms.

“Never looking up, I said, ‘Last name.’ I heard ‘Drysdale.’ ‘First name’ – ‘Donald.’

“I was a huge baseball fan and here I am sitting next to one of the best of that time! Two of the questions asked were, ‘Occupation’ and ‘Salary.’ Both Drysdale and Koufax said ‘baseball pitcher’ and ‘$10,000.’ I always admired them for not trying to avoid service time.”

And this email postscript: “I really had fun TYPING this – all that was missing was the clatter and hitting the return bar!”

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

*

Readers Look Backwards at Own Pups

Robert Frost’s Tweet-length poem “The Span of Life,” and last week’s column about my own old dog who “barks backwards without getting up,” had quite a few readers sharing remembrances of their own pups. Here are a few . . .

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“Your thoughtful column brought a few tears to our eyes because we had fairly recently had to bid goodbye to our own ‘lovable backward-barking dog,’ a bull terrier named Sir Elton,” wrote Carol and Bob Olivera.

“Our canine companions (best described by us as ‘children with paws’) have all held a very special place in our hearts, and it is so very difficult when they let us know it’s time to say goodbye.

“We have a plaque in our home that reads: ‘It came to me that every time I lose a dog, they take a piece of my heart with them, and every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog and I will become as generous and loving as they are.’ ”

*

Jim Reynolds’ note greeted me with a warning bark: “Woody, my wife always, and I seldom, read your articles (different politics).”

Then Jim’s tail metaphorically wagged: “However, ‘A lovable backward-barking dog’ brought tears to an old (79) dog lover. Maybe the article had the impact because the old dog wasn’t a dog at all; maybe me, much younger, and me now.

“And perhaps Frost’s dog was my two 13-year-old dogs that died in my lap, or perhaps it was one of the other five dogs my wife and I raised and then passed ‘beyond backward-barking.’

“Your readers and I were blessed by Frost’s dog and poem, and your discovery of the poem (so long ago) and especially your sharing the wisdom in today’s column! Thank you for an insight that I will treasure.”

Jim then added his own deep wisdom: “I believe that if a dog’s human always tries to do their best for their dog, they have done their part of God’s plan. A dog’s life cycle is shorter than I prefer – but then I can treasure, love and care for more dogs. Perhaps that’s the tradeoff that’s best for both us humans and the dogs that God loans us to love, to learn from, and to care for.”

*

“Your column brought back memories and some blurry eyes, thinking of our old dog, Pinky,” wrote Rick Throckmorton.

“Bought as a reddish-blonde cocker spaniel pup for my two small boys, Pinky was part of our lives for 17 years, until, like your Murray, he would ‘bark backwards’ at times as he protected the family hearth from some unknown and unseen intrusion.

“Gosh, we loved that dog. When he left us, it was as if tearing away a part of the family. Could never replace him!

“Anyway, you brought back a memory of a Tom T. Hall song that also brings tears when I hear it on the radio. While ‘only a song’, it is poetry in its true form.”

Rick shared the full song which includes these lines: “Ain’t but three things in this world that’s worth a solitary dime, / But old dogs and children and watermelon wine. … Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes; / God bless little children while they’re still too young to hate. … That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime / Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine.”

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

 *   *   *

Poetic Reality: My Old Dog Barks Backward

It is not one of Robert Frost’s most venerable poems, certainly not among his longest at a mere 20 words including the title, but “The Span of Life” has long been one of my favorites by the masterful poet.

Penned in 1937, the poem has been on my mind in 2019 – including now as I write this column with our 12-year-old boxer sleeping nearby – for Frost’s words are about Murray surely:

“The old dog barks backwards without getting up. / I can remember when he was a pup.”

Murray, with a bandage where IV was, recovering after recent surgery.

Murray, named after my writing idol and late friend Jim Murray, has become an old dog too weary to get up and turn around before barking at something behind him. And this is if he hears a noise in the first place. Indeed, in recent months his hearing has faded ever as much as his once jet-black muzzle and mask has faded to charcoal and snow.

As if it were only a week ago, that being yesterday in dog days, I can remember when Murray was a pup. His name in the litter was Dave, but we changed it on the drive home. Nearly as quickly he earned the nickname “Gator” because he attacked hands and shoelaces, and even a wooden molding corner at the top of the stairs, with the fervor of an alligator.

In his early months, Murray also chewed up the backyard sprinkler system and took out an entire flowerbed of plants. “Spirited” is the word the laughing veterinarian used to describe the young Gator.

Now when Murray barks backward, if he barks at all, it is with a few less teeth, three having been pulled recently.

Nor does the ol’ guy see much to bark at these days. Despite two eye surgeries, he has grown nearly blind. No matter, Murray navigates the house nimbly by memory and gets around the neighborhood on twice-daily mile-plus walks remarkably well by familiar scents.

Of the eight dogs I have had in my life, Murray is my paws-down favorite. One reason, in fact four, is because he has always made my daughter, son, wife and me feel like we are each his favorite human in the entire world.

Example. Throughout four years of high school my son took recovery ice baths after every cross-country and track practice with Murray always keeping him tub-side company.

Example. Normally, Murray stays off all beds even if invited up. However, when my daughter called off her engagement during the last week of grad school and came home to mend, Murray leapt up and curled beside her for weeks on end.

Example. Murray is, quite simply, my wife’s shadow.

Example. Murray keeps me company when I write at home and keeps watch for me out the window when I’m out. Even now, with veiled vision, he keeps faithful vigil. Indeed, his brown eyes have clouded over but they still clearly register bottomless unconditional love.

Our dear old dog just had another surgery, this time to remove a lesion from his lower lip. “Epitheliotrophic lymphoma” the pathology report stated in a medical mouthful of scary syllables. Has it spread? Only time will tell.

For the time being Murray is back to his older self, still strongly muscled at 79 pounds, still with a supersonic stubby tail when happy, still enriching our lives beyond measure.

As The Span of Murray’s Life winds down, it seems to me Frost’s poem misses the mark in being wistful about his pup. It is a natural feeling, yet all in all I think an old backward-barking dog is even more lovable.

* * *

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Is your Club or Group looking for an inspiring guest speaker or do you want to host a book signing? . . . Contact Woody today!

* * *

For a Personalized Autographed copy of “STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME” or “WOODEN & ME” use the PayPal link on my home page or mail a check for $25 to:

Woody Woodburn

400 Roosevelt Court

Ventura, CA 93003

Rants and Raves About This and That

 Harrumph! If you were anticipating 600 words of warm maple syrup over waffles-like sweetness this morning, put down the newspaper and phone your grandma. I’m in a the-rains-have-chased-an-ant-farm-into-my-kitchen kind of grouchy mood.

But I do love the rain, especially the softer showers that my great-grandfather, a farmer, used to call “a million-dollar soaking.”

*

I’m annoyed that we citizens get soaked with more and more taxes every year while fewer and fewer potholes seem to get filled. In Ventura, Johnson Drive especially resembles a road that’s been bombed by enemy aircraft. Throughout Ventura County every city and neighborhood has its own neglected moonscape roads that are as zig-zagging difficult to navigate as diagramming a sentence spoken by Donald Trump.

But I do love how rarely modern tires get flats compared to eons ago when I first learned to drive.

*

Speaking of driving, I’m annoyed that there’s more than a three-month wait to make an on-line appointment at the Ventura DMV to get a license renewal with a REAL ID. Harrumph! I want to see the eye chart before my birthday, not get tickets to see “Hamilton.”

But I love being at the DMV and seeing the radiant smiles of 16-year-olds who have just found out they passed their driving test.

*

I’m annoyed by the New England Patriots’ selfishness and greed in hogging the Vince Lombardi Trophy.

But I do love New England clam chowder.

*

Call me a Pa Ventura-like ol’ fuddy-duddy, but the halftime show of the Super Bowl usually annoys me and this year was no exception.

But I do love that Maroon 5, headliners of the 2019 midgame-snack-rush-bathroom-flush extravaganza, donated its entire $500,000 payday to the children’s charity Big Brothers Big Sisters of America

I also loved Gladys Knight’s rendition of the National Anthem at Super Bowl LIII.

*

The NFL stubbornly still using Roman numerals to designate the Super Bowls annoys me.

But I loved Roman Gabriel when he played quarterback for the Rams in the 19LXs and early ’LXXs – and I think even at age LXXVIII, ol’ jersey No. XVIII would have played better than III-year pro Jared Goff.

*

I am beyond annoyed at the assault on Mother Earth and Her clean air and water by U.S. president XLV, big business around the globe, and mankind in general.

But I love that Patagonia, founded by Yvon Chouinard and headquartered in Ventura, is donating the additional $10 million in profits the company earned in 2018 as a result of corporate tax cuts to grassroots groups battling climate change.

*

I get annoyed when I see a police officer behind the wheel commit an infraction – such as recently driving in a heavy downpour, where the visibility was horrible, with his headlights off and nearly causing a traffic accident because of it – that would get the rest of us a ticket.

I love seeing a speeder get pulled over.

*

I am annoyed that the profession of journalism is grossly undervalued and constantly under fire in America.

But I loved the Washington Post’s “Democracy Dies in Darkness” one-minute commercial that aired during Super Bowl 53. Narrated by Tom Hanks and featuring powerful images, it was powerful poetry:

“When we go off to war. When we exercise our rights. When we soar to our greatest heights. When we mourn and pray. When our neighbors are at risk. When our nation is threatened. There’s someone to gather the facts. To bring you the story. No matter the cost. Because knowing empowers us. Knowing helps us decide. Knowing keeps us free.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

• Personalized signed copies are available at WoodyWoodburn.com