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Woody Woodburn

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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.

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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.”

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!”

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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