In Appreciation of Carl Erskine

Like many old Brooklyn Dodger fans, I was saddened to learn of the death of Carl Erskine at the age of 97.  Erskine was an important part of the Dodgers' pitching staff in the early 1950s, but by the time I became a fan in 1956, he was past his prime as a player.  In fact, I don't remember him ever pitching in a game I watched on television or listened to on the radio.  Fortunately for me, however, I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to interview him for "Ebbets Field: Essays and Memories of Brooklyn's Historic Ballpark," a book Paul Zinn and I edited. I had written a letter to Carl asking him if he would share with me, and, therefore, our readers, his memories of Ebbets Field.  He sent back the return postcard asking me to call him in Indiana.

Carl Erskine in his prime

I placed the call early one October morning and got a recorded message that I had reached Carl Erskine, but he wasn't available.  There was no option to leave a message so I hung up, resolving to try again the next day.  I was then about to move on to my next project, raking leaves - a major autumnal sport in Verona, New Jersey.  There was no one else home and I was literally about to go out the door when the phone rang and a voice said "Hi, it's Carl Erskine, I saw that you called."  My first thought was that Carl Erskine was calling me from Indiana at his own expense. 

We talked for about 45 minutes or, I hope, he talked and I listened, until he said "I've probably taken enough of your time."  There was no way that was even remotely possible and the conversation went on until I said goodbye and thank you as profusely as I could.  What follows are some of the memories he shared with me that day. 

I was just a skinny kid from Indiana who was lucky to play for that team, at that time, in that place.  The whole experience meant so much to me that I want to do what I can to preserve the history of that time.  It is probably no surprise that my best memories of Ebbets Field have to do with games that I pitched there.  However, for someone who pitched two no-hitters at Ebbets Field, it probably is a surprise that those games rank only as my second and third best memories.  My top memory at Ebbets Field was the third game of the 1953 World Series against the New York Yankees. It was a matchup between Vic Rashi and me – Casey Stengel used to say that if he needed a pitcher to win one game, his choice was Raschi.  Not only did I win a close pitcher’s duel, 3-2, I struck out 14 Yankees, a World Series record at that time.

Brooklyn Daily Eagle - October 3, 1953

The other fascinating thing about that game was that Roy Campanella was scheduled to be on the first Edward R. Murrow “Person to Person” show the next night.  Since it was a live show, they rehearsed on Friday at Campy’s home.  The rehearsal went well, and at the end Murrow said to Campy, “Now all you need to do is hit a home run to win the game tomorrow.”  And sure enough that’s exactly what happened.”  

I got an award a few years ago called the Casey Stengel “You Can Look It Up” award for something that was both obscure and noteworthy – in my case it was the fact that I was the only pitcher to throw two-no hitters at Ebbets Field. There was something like nine all told, but I was the only one to pitch two there.” 

Daily News - October 3, 1953 

People [in Brooklyn] treated us like we were part of the family.  It was never because we were famous.  We just knitted together into one community.  I think it had a lot to do with Brooklyn sort of being an orphan borough, no glitz, a residential area with a lot of different ethnic groups.  The intimacy of Ebbets Field may have contributed to that; the fans were so close it was easy not only to talk to them, but to hear everything they said. I often wondered whether the sense of community in Brooklyn had something to do with Branch Rickey’s decision to bring in Jackie Robinson – the culture was right for that kind of change.  While the Dodgers had some periodic success before Jackie got there, after that we were either in the World Series or contended every year.  I think that gave the people of Brooklyn something to be proud of that they didn’t have before.

Once my conversation with Carl Erskine was over, or so I thought, I hastened to transcribe my notes into something legible.  Then I was about to return to those troublesome leaves which unfortunately were still there.  Again, I was about to go out the door when the phone rang and a now familiar voice said "Hi, it's Carl Erskine, I forgot something," which is found below. 

Gladys Goodding

One of the people that everyone remembers from Ebbets Field is Glady Goodding, the longtime organist.  Not surprisingly, the song she played more than any other was the “Star Spangled Banner.”  But people might not know that the song she played the most after that was “Back Home in Indiana.”  During my time in Brooklyn, there were three of us from Indiana on the Dodgers: me, Gil Hodges and Billy Herman, our third base coach.  Anytime I came in to pitch, Billy Herman went to third base or Gil Hodges hit a home run, she would play that song.  I am very proud of my home state, and it made me feel very good to hear that song.

Not only was Carl Erskine proud of his home state, Indiana was proud of him, as were the Dodgers (both Brooklyn and Los Angeles) and everyone else whose lives he touched.  And well they, and we, should have been.  Carl Erskine was the ultimate gentleman who as Rudyard Kipling put it could "walk with kings - nor lose the common touch."  He went out of his way to help prominent writers from Roger Kahn to Tyler Kepner, but also had time for people like me. Few of us can emulate Carl Erskine the baseball player, but all of us can strive to be as good a person and that may be his greatest legacy.