Story 05: Diamonds in the Rough (DRAFT)
Author
Author’s Name: Jeff Collins
Author’s Place of Residence: Normal, McLean County, Illinois
Primary Sources of Information
Personal memories, discussions with friends, Pantagraph articles, Facebook site: When We Were Hornets
Place
Area reported: Village of Towanda, Illinois, and its surroundings
Timespan: 1960-2026
Most Descriptive Characteristics: (select up to three):
__ Scenic __ Prosperous _x_ Historical _x_ Agricultural __ Industrial __ Medical __ Educational _x_ Other: Nurturing
Story
Background
· Author’s interest in the place, why it is “special” to the author
· Brief description of geographic location, surroundings, context
· Brief scan of history of the place
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Focus of the Story
It’s an early summer morning. Sometime in June, July or maybe early August. Early to mid-1970s.
Awakened by the sound of semi-tractor trailers pulling in or out of the Delco. Also known as the Greasy Spoon. The aging truck stop sits across Route 66 – just a couple hundred yards away from my brother and I’s bedroom window. Even with a box fan humming like it had all night, the trucks or maybe a blaring horn still would awaken you. Or just the soaked sweat cooling off from the night’s sleep. No silly alarms needed.
The agenda for the morning is much like most mornings in the warmth of the summer. Get up, change into some “play” clothes and after a quick breakfast of cinnamon toast, Captain Crunch or likewise, we would figure out what time, and which diamond of dreams we would be at today for wiffle ball or otherwise.
It could be our backyard. It could be across North Street, next to the Jim and Luella Richard residence. The lot which was a diamond in the summer, and a football field in the fall and winter --we just called McCurdie’s lot. [is this where Jack McCurdie lived?]
Games could also be scheduled down North Street to the east. That is where Bob and Mardell McLeese lived. They had a big backyard and nice sized side lot. Wiffle ball games could be played directly behind the house. The side lot was used for fast pitch “tennis ball” games. For a few years, there was even a homemade backstop built just like the real diamonds had.
Those were the primary spots, but other yards or lots were never completely out of the question. If there was a game to be played, a prime or convenient location could be found.
Games usually started while the dew was still drying. But in an open yard or lot, thirst still would need to be quenched at some point. A green garden hose with luke warm water would suffice. But if we were at a location with no water supply. You may carry an old thermos. But you could also run or ride to Ike’s Grocery, on Main Street and pick up a drink of our choice. Ike Hirst was the owner. My mother. Lois Collins worked there most days as the cashier. Coincidentally, Ike lived next to us, and his and Betty Ann’s garden sat 10-12 feet over our short right field fence. More than once we were scolded for chasing a home run ball in to their pristine garden. But stopping a game was not an option.
Sometimes we might bike to Texaco or Fat Brown’s FS to grab a soda out of the pop machines. Fats (real name Feron) had a great soda machine loaded with orange and grape Nehi. Root Beer or usually Pepsi were your other choices. Staying hydrated was a must on hot summer days. But we always found a way to keep replacing the sweat with good fluids. Or at least fluids – some today would debate if they were good for us.
Ideally you would have 6-8 kids playing. Three or four to a side. But going one on one and determining what were hits and what were not was also a possibility. In reality, mano a mano was best played with a game of home run derby. This helped avoid any heated discussion on what was a hit and what was an out. Since many times you were swinging for the fences – strikeouts came in bunches too. Yes, you could say we were ahead of our time as today’s Major League game is much the same.
Wiffle ball rarely if ever used a catcher. We might use a lawn chair or an old Radio wagon to be the backstop. If we could find a big piece of plywood – even better. It was the days before step tracking, but I bet we put in thousands just retrieving un-hit or unhittable balls each day. We emulated our heroes. Names like Collins, McLeese, Adams, Messer, Phelps, Miller, Hargis, Risen, Kocar, Broom and Merritt would become Tiant, Gibson, Stargell, Aaron, Williams, Banks, Marichal, Jackson, Seaver, Brock or Mays.
Television shows later would poke fun at organized games and parents bringing snacks. Snacks for us back then consisted of apples, rhubarb, cherries, grapes, peaches and even long green onions. All natural from the local trees, patches and vines closest to the field we were on that particular day.
Heat never stopped a game. Rain never stopped a game and many times was a welcome addition to the contest. Not only cooling things off, but making it much easier to slide into the bases. And let’s face it – we slid if needed to or not. Grass stains, dirt and mud were badges of honor.
There was one thing that could stop a game.
One mid-August in 1970, the morning game was interrupted by a car coming off Route 66 and flying through the ditch and directly crossing into the Collins backyard diamond. There were four of playing that day. We all scattered to get out of the way of the wayward vehicle. It narrowly missed, bushes, an apple tree and a very solid close line metal pole before gently hitting our house. The occupants all from Indiana, were headed to California. Although sore and hurt from the wild ride off the highway and through the ditches, by the grace of God – tragedy was averted.
Just like grass and dirt stains were a badge of honor. The area that was grass, but became a scraped patch of dirt remained as such for what seemed like many years. So we could remember the day.
Fifty-six years later, that story has rehashed on more than a few occasions. Participants that day were myself, brother Jim, Tom McLeese and Brian Risen. The incident scared us all. Jim and Luella Richard told of seeing four boys run from the back of the house to the front, “faster than any boys they seen run.” Tom ran home and hid out under a bed. For an instant, there was panic he was under the car. Thankfully and at just six years of age – he was just freaked out to the core. Who wouldn’t be?
Mom was working at Ike’s – story is she ran home. Especially after hearing the whistle go off, which was the signal for all volunteer firemen to ascend to the station. Those who knew mom and how she ran. Well the afterthought brings a smile to your eyes. To alter the line from Sandlot a bit – simply put….”she ran like a girl” A term used in the 70s not so much in play today.
Not all games ended in such drastic or scary ways. Some games would end in arguments about a call. Those arguments may even sometimes end in a scuffle. Never anything too harsh. Just enough to call off action for the day. Or maybe just a few hours. When the next game started, all was forgiven and you were back living the dream.
Reflections on the Place and Your Focus on It
· Author’s impressions, memories (if applicable)
· The special character of the place
The memories in my mind of Towanda are numerous. Some days so fresh it seems like the event happened just last week. Be it Halloween and fall pranks. Winter time and Christmas time at the grade school and the annual Community Building gathering. And of course the 4th of July and the huge influx of people in town for the Flea Market. But playing on the many diamonds of Towanda are the best in my recollection. Kids being kids. Kids having fun but actually learning the skills maybe to be used down the road.
Proof of that? That hot August day when a car interrupted the game. There were four future Normal Community baseball stars doing battle -- NCHS and Truman Keys were the furthest thing from their mind.
Brian Risen (Class of 76), My brother: Jim Collins (Class of 78), Me, Jeff Collins (Class of 81) and Tom McLeese (Class of 82) were not just having fun – they were preparing for some future diamond success.
