http://www.newyorker.com/fiction
Thoughts on life from someone who has met some of the finest, interesting, loving and humorous people in the world surrounded by a beautiful family; some of whom are by choice and others with whom I'm blessed. I love to write and take everyday things and make others feel, laugh and care. Enjoy!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
The New Yorker
http://www.newyorker.com/fiction
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Sapphire
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The oldest profession
Later in the afternoon I went to get my haircut on the East side and back to Columbus Circle for a good work out before I went to work. The elliptical and I spent some painful, quality time together clearly communicating to my ticker that we have a lot ahead of us - and that is why we are here. Did some leg work, hit the showers and out to the Circle.
I was innocently minding my own business, in average summer attire with dark sunglasses, black shorts, high tops and a plain grey t-shirt with my black gym bag in tow.
This lovely woman starts walking along side me. She has seen the ascent hillside of her 60's and headed to the middle ground, has worked hard on maintaining her beauty as she had few wrinkles, had princess pink lipstick, perfect teeth, dusty blond hair pulled straight and laced with pin curls, a long, lean, willowy figure and was wearing a pink quarter sleeve blouse, white slacks, pink pumps topped off with a warm, pleasant smile.
She asked me if I was visiting NY and I said no, that I lived here. She said she did too right on 57th and 9th and asked if I worked nearby and I said yes. She asked where and I told her right around the corner and I was headed there. She asked if I had a management position and I said I did. She asked if I ever wanted to come over, she reminded me of her location and that it was easy to get to and she had a 4th floor walk up. I said that was very kind of her to offer. She asked if I like to get ....
Well she asked me some specific sexual questions and by the look of horror on my face she promptly asked if I was married. It was not that I was opposed to the questioning but in shock that this kind of thing happens in broad daylight in this manner surrounded by visiting families..
She may want to rush in where angels fear to tread, but in this case I was shocked.
I let her know my own little dirty secret - as much as I appreciate the offer, I am gay.
So we parted ways and it has left me with a lot to think about.
I was a little sad because I thought of my grandmothers, mother, friend's mothers and grandmothers and wondered how do you get to this point? Do we blame Republicans? Social Security mis-management, melted 401k plans, employers expeditious departures from pensions, high-jacked welfare system or just plain old poor planning for our twilight years?
After that exhaustive pondering, it occurred to me that this gal still has it!
God bless her and her pink lips!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Erwin
What I quickly discovered was that he was by far the neatest, cleanest senior leader with whom I have ever encountered and I thought, this old girl (the hotel, not me - I was young and thin back then) is in for some scrubbing! But it was refreshing to have someone concerned about the cleanliness which is very reflective of the service our guests would come to expect.
As the departmental trainer with my dear friend Shane; Erwin was very supportive and drove training and he challenged us to train the other banquet servers on a la carte service. So we did and it was hard considering Tito, Tri Do and some of the others; who we all loved but steak Diane and filleting Dover Sole table-side wasn't everyone's expertise!
Erwin moved on to his next adventure and left the food & beverage operation a better place. Cleaner too!
A few years later Boston was bursting at the seams and needed a second Ritz-Carlton so our sexy, younger sister Boston Common was born under the careful watch and acute detail of Erwin.
At this juncture, I had moved on in my career and opened the hotel as Director of Training & Development and it was a pleasure working with Erwin again and in this new capacity. He has always been a big supporter of human resources and especially training; ensuring i's were dotted (twice, just in case) and t's crossed. Karen Kane was the opening director of HR and I remember this specific day as vividly as if it happened a half hour ago.
The somewhat sceptical Millennium Partners leadership team invited us to share our Ritz-Carlton training and we offered to come to their offices at the Residences. We offered to bring the coffee, muffins, donuts, etc. from Dunkin Donuts as only Karen Kane would have it. Karen and I agree to meet at the 'old girl' and trek over to Dunkin Donuts on the corner of Tremont and Boylston so we can walk over to the MP offices for the presentation. What we did not count on was the torrential downpour, 'summer showers' that left us soaking wet, drowned wash women. We are running in, dripping wet from the core of our beings, setting up and trying to be as composed as possible in light of our weathered state. And in comes Erwin. Pristine, bone dry, not a hair out of place, not a speck of dust on his mirrored glass polished shoes. I looked up wondering where the helicopter landed to drop him off in this condition.
9/11 gave us the bottom low to a very exciting high just days before when Erwin, the proud parent, joined the VIP's cutting the ribbon to warmly welcome The Ritz-Carlton, Boston Common to our fair city. After 14 years of my time in Boston, I moved on to New Orleans and I will not soon forget Erwin's heartwarming gratitude and farewell to me remembering most my genuine smile. It is easy for me to smile because I loved the company and the reason had nothing to do with the cobalt blue, the lion's head or the 400 thread count sheets; rather the people who took the philosophy, the CREDO off the page and brought it to life. It was Erwin who taught me not just the words of the CREDO early in my career, but what it meant by his actions every day, every time.
As the good fortune of fate would have, both Erwin and I returned to Boston; he to The Ritz-Carlton and me to The Boston Park Plaza. The Park had an identity crisis in terms of brand and positioning and the GM, EC rallied together to align, focus and come up with a compass to move us in the right direction. Erwin graciously offered a magnificent meeting space for us and, no surprise, world class, impeccable service as we came together for a two day EC planning meeting. Knowing Erwin was quoted in the Gold Standard book, I thought what better nuance to add to my presentation on brand but to have him present to the group. It is always a little risky going from one hotel company to another and not over-selling your past passion but I thought I don't know ANY other hotel company or person who drives brand with more vigor or passion than Ritz-Carlton and Erwin himself.
He agreed to meet with us and present to the team. He only had a segment of time of which he went over nearly double - hard to bottle up that passion and limit it to a specified time! After he left, the EC team of The Boston Park Plaza was ignited and our story began with not just a new chapter, rather, a new book! Stuart Meyerson, our GM, said to us, 'Whatever we decide on how our branding will unroll, we ALL need to deliver it with that level of sincerity and PASSION!'
Erwin will be missed and ever remembered with a smile (and a dust pan!) and something tells me our paths will path again with much joy.
Thank you for including me in this! All the best and much success to you Erwin and thank you for all you have done.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
18
Dear Shane,
Before you were born, I promised myself I would write a book to you. Not necessarily a book with distinct chapters nor any real format, but one to document feelings and experiences so I can share them with you. When I first thought of the idea, I decided to present this book to you on or around your 18th birthday. There is a lot I still don't understand, but your existence has made me incredibly wise.
Next Friday is your first birthday, so this leaves me seventeen years to finish this - I'll do my best. I frist started this in a notebook that has been falling apart. I think this book is better equipped to stand the test of time.
Anyway - you haven't even been born yet so I better get crackin'! I started the book in early November at a small cafe in Beacon Hill called Rebecca's located on Charles Street in the old meeting house. I actually was working for Rebecca (an amazingly talented chef!) when your mom and I found out you were coming. It was a catering job at an old library in Beacon Hill (The Boston Athenæum, a membership library, first opened its doors in 1807, and its rich history as a library and cultural institution has been well documented in the annals of Boston’s cultural life. Today we remain a vibrant and active institution that serves a wide variety of members and scholars) Your mom was working on her masters degree at Northeastern and was scheduled for a class. But her mother's instinct kicked in and she had a feeling she was pregnant. Ideally, she would have wanted both of us there when she took the test and make a big dinner, have some wine and make it a celebration! But she did it on her own and tracked me down at work. She called Rebecca's hysterically because she expected the test to be negative and it was positive. Positively wonderful!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Be good to yourself
Well I, and I am certain I am not alone, have come to my senses and know that I am in full control of this self-defacing crippling approach to this great thing called life. My life.
Why do we feel like we don't deserve happiness? While in the moments or cycles of despair, we wish ourselves out of it and wonder through the eclipse of unhappiness why did this happen to me? And yet, when the emotional sun casts its brilliance on us, we feel unworthy of it. God knows we have suffered.
A dear friend called me a week before my birthday and asked what I wanted. I know she has limited means and her generosity usurps her bank balance. I told her to save her money, send a nice card and come to NY and lets spend some time together. I would rather hang out, walk the city, see the park, people watch, sip great wine, try a different place for dinner with her than have her spend money on either a gift card or things that I can buy myself. I enjoy the thought behind gifts and the things I possess all tell a story. A time, a place or a person that brings back all the feelings each time I look at it but in this case, when you at one time spent every day together and miles preclude you from that time, I put more value on the time creating the memory. So she did.
We had a great dinner on night one, great wine, a lot of laughs and watched movies until the wee hours. The next morning we flopped around, napping and watching tv, snacking and of course, talking and laughing and charting our course for our careers and lives. We have all solved the world in the confines of our homes with our friends knowing that if everyone saw things our way, the world would be a better place. And for that moment, it is. We finally got out after 4pm for some pampering, lunch at a French bistro and shopping. I had two nice pairs of sunglasses in my life for many years and one broke and the other I lost a year ago and decided it was time to treat myself. Each of us has something or a handful of things that make us feel good and I found the perfect replacement, a pair of Armani sunglasses. It is a silly thing in the scheme of world peace, literacy and hunger but it was an indulgence that to the naked eye was a pair of over priced sunglasses.
For me, it was being good to myself to say I deserve them.
After Katrina, a friend of mine who has now become a very dear friend, was at The Ritz-Carlton, South Beach at the same time I was. We had a very teary eyed, wrap your arms all the way around embrace that neither wanted to let air take over. We started to talk about our personal experiences and she held her breath and became very emotional because she missed her collection of pocket books. Like all of us, we have the things that make us feel good and our indulgences and hers was the pocket book. She felt very sad about losing everything but that really struck her. She told me how each one was a very special gift that was significant because it either represented a milestone, a sister, a lover, her Mom and she felt so guilty about feeling so badly about losing her pocket books. I told her I just saw another friend of ours and she had left everything behind except one suitcase - filled with photographs. What you miss is not the Prada, Gucci or Fendi, rather the moments in your life that the people who cared so much about you came to life in each of those gifts and not to feel guilty.
My point is - live now. Don't wait. If you like designer jeans and are a little curvier than you would like to be now, buy them now. If you want a good book but want to wait for the soft cover, get it now; one of the bookstores or Amazon always have a little discount. For me, I am walking around in my killer sunglasses with my fat jeans living life today. The way it should be.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Perseverance
What is perseverance?
• Perseverance is commitment, hard work, patience, endurance.
• Perseverance is being able to bear difficulties calmly and without complaint.
• Perseverance is trying again and again.
You show perseverance when you ...
• Give up your tv time to spend hours studying
• Try a new sport that is very difficult but you don't give up
• Have a learning disability but keep studying even when discouraged
• Come from a home where there is fighting and unhappiness but you still try your best
• Have missed a week of school but you work hard to catch up
• Are at the end of a difficult race but you cross the finish line
• Save money and make sacrifices to buy something
• Spend hours practicing on your music
• Study and work hard to raise your grade
• Try out for something you weren't successful at the first time
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Donate Life
I attended an all employee event at our hotel at the time and my friend and colleague brought her beautiful daughter as her guest. We ate, had wine, lots of laughs and a few twirls on the dance floor and it was a spectacular night and was sometime in March with a springtime theme. The next day, I went to see my friend whom I have have known now for over 22 years and asked her about her daughter. I had known something was wrong health wise but not sure of the details.
She told me her daughter was fine, she was feeling well and that her kidneys were functioning at 15%. I, not knowing much about what that really meant or what options were available, asked. She told me that she is on a list and they are waiting for a cadaver.
I'm no mathematician but I knew that 15% was low and in my mind, time was running out and not working in our favor.
I said I wanted to be tested and she told me no, we will be fine, she can go on dialysis if we don't find a match and it will all be ok. I told her she had two choices. Either she calls her right now or I find the number and hunt her down myself. Reluctantly she dialed. I worked with her daughter, she came with me to the hospital and did all the necessary tests, which were easy.
Shortly thereafter we found out that three out of six of our antigens were a perfect match. I have no idea what an antigen is but I was delighted to find that I have them and they are in good shape and match my friends. For those of you into science:
An antigen is any substance that causes your immune system to produce antibodies against it. An antigen may be a foreign substance from the environment such as chemicals, bacteria, viruses, or pollen. An antigen may also be formed within the body, as with bacterial toxins or tissue cells.
Besides our blood types being compatible, based on the above (11 years later I am discovering this) it seems as though the likelihood of rejection would be minimal. If this was a two part harmony, we could take this live with a little piano and acoustic guitar.
Deep inside my soul, I felt I could do something so special, so relevant for someone and really help her in a way no one else could and in a way I have never been able to helps someone before. This would be intense and before I had time to digest my own feelings, I had to think of my wife and two sons and the rest of the family. My elation was subject to mild turbulence.
The whirlwind to follow involved every imaginable test including all types of blood work, a three dimensional CT scan, (48) hour urine samples (yes, the cooler in my office was not very popular). I was able to see all of my insides on a computer which is pretty cool, fascinating really. It makes you re-think a cookie or extra butter because there in plain lcd illumination is layers of fatty tissue. Why does frosting look so much more appealing on a cupcake rather than the 'cushion' around your liver? I had work to do this spring and early summer to harvest my organ for my friend!
We met with many doctors. Although I am intentionally leaving out names, I will mention one - Dr. Ko. He was my doctor - the taker! He is a terrific person, very bright, down to earth, great sense of humor and can explain the most finite medical procedures and deliver them in ones own language. We had a 'family' meeting and I thought it would be more like a picnic. There was no barbecue, no potato salad, no green jello ambrosia and not a frisbee in sight. We were in an OR lit for surgery with transplant nurses, specialists, her doctor, her mom, her, me, my wife, a not so witty psychologist and we sat in a big circle. There were questions ricocheting around and I was relatively numb as the seriousness was setting in. My wife was trembling throughout the meeting and I knew that we needed to get into the layers before the big day. But I will never forget my friend at this meeting.
There she was. At the head of the circle. The one who was in need, sitting tall, composed, long brown hair knowing at center stage she had to make sure, in light of all of these specialists, that everyone kept in check. And her brave soul responded to the questions with ease and said to the group, 'I am going to be ok, I am not sick, We will all be fine.' I looked at her in awe and thought to myself, as well as I know her, she never passes up a chance to take my breath away. Even in her time of angst she sat there braver than anyone of us!
My wife and I went to see the transplant shrink after this meeting. As much as we spoke about it, something was wrong. I felt resentful because I could not be scared myself. I had to put the armor on and be strong for everyone else which is fine - I am comfortable there. But for a moment, I needed to have someone on which to lean. The doctor told us this story about a man, a racist white man who was a member of the KKK and outright nasty to anyone who was not like him. He said this guy was in n-stage renal failure and in desperate need of a kidney. Even with dialysis, nothing removes toxins and does the job of a kidney. He was jaundice, felt weak, face sallow, hunched over and always felt like his head was between a migraine and pure fog. Well, good news came. There was a cadaver and he was a perfect match. They wheeled his sorry white ass up to the OR and performed the transplant. The next day, the doctor came to see him and asked how he felt. Even though it is major surgery, the recipient of the new kidney starts to feel great right away. So he told the doctor about how for the first time in how long he cannot even remember, he could feel his skin, he had color in his face and could think clearly. He asked the doctor about the surgery and from whom the kidney came. The doctor said that usually he would not reveal any of this, but knowing him, he let him know it was from a black man.
It occurred to him that for his entire miserable life, he had hated an entire class of people based on the color of their skin. He did not know any black people personally, he has hated them outwardly and in private. He made it a part of his life to take action against blacks. And here he sits in a hospital bed feeling better than he has in years. As he held his head sobbing in repose, it resonated with vivid color that it is what's inside of us that is most important!
This is only chapter one of this entire journey. Today needed special attention for my dear, sweet, beautiful friend. I love you and your Mother with all my heart and thank God for you both for making me a better person! Hugs and Kisses, Tim
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sometimes it takes a dream - it is how most influential things happen in this world. We wake up and remember; we feel the water wash the soap from our hair and we wander out of our world into another and come back together in our minds with something better. We are running in the park and losing our mental footing to the beat as we encompass a plan to change the world in some small way and there are times when we are chatting with friends planning a trip to Fripp Island to write a screenplay. Or listen to a famous chef who towers over you who in the midst of opening a new restaurant tells you he just finished his own book - a candid account of how to live life with a condition that others may be stifled by and now he says - you have a friend.
So as I listen and read the words of King, it inspires me to do more. To say more. To stand up for those who cannot and to hold someone's hand in need and let them know they are not alone. Make a difference, a small one; a big one - one that you can just by pouring your heart into it. Take the risk. Rather than sit back and wish you would have made the call, sent the card or hugged someone - do it. You will be energized by the smile, the laugh, the hug back.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
In 1945, Jackie played one season in the Negro Baseball League, traveling all over the Midwest with the Kansas City Monarchs. But greater challenges and achievements were in store for him. In 1947, Brooklyn Dodgers president Branch Rickey approached Jackie about joining the Brooklyn Dodgers. The Major Leagues had not had an African-American player since 1889, when baseball became segregated. When Jackie first donned a Brooklyn Dodger uniform, he pioneered the integration of professional athletics in America. By breaking the color barrier in baseball, the nation's preeminent sport, he courageously challenged the deeply rooted custom of racial segregation in both the North and the South. Rickey made it clear and told Robinson, “It’ll be tough. You’re going to take douse you never dreamed of. But if you are willing to try, I’ll back you all the way.” And Rickey was right.
Racial slurs from the crowd and members of his own team, as well as from opponents, were standard fare. During one game as a Dodger, Robinson was up to bat and the crowd started yelling racial slurs and throwing debris on the field. He had booted two ground balls and the boos were cascading over the diamond. In full view of thousands of spectators, Pee Wee Reese, the team captain and Dodger shortstop, walked over and put his arm around Jackie right in the middle of the game. “That may have saved my career,” Robinson reflected later. “Pee Wee made me feel that I belonged.”
At the end of Robinson's rookie season with the Brooklyn Dodgers, he had become National League Rookie of the Year with 12 homers, a league-leading 29 steals, and a .297 average. In 1949, he was selected as the NL's Most Valuable player of the Year and also won the batting title with a .342 average that same year. As a result of his great success, Jackie was eventually inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962.
The power of belonging, of being part of a team, enables us to conquer and win.