Trio reminisces about 1964 Little League All Stars team

WINSTON-SALEM, N.C. (AP) — As three gentlemen just past retirement age waited patiently near a rusting backstop, a feisty and short-legged dog happily rolled in the outfield grass.

The infield, minus bases or anything resembling a pitcher’s mound, looked as if groundhogs and field mice had been handling the grounds maintenance. The diamond at Miller Park was no field of dreams.

Still, for a trio of 70-year-olds who’d brought gloves, bats and balls — and plenty of jokes about pulled hamstrings, aching joints and Bengay — the meet-up perhaps represented something better.

For the next 30 minutes, they were afforded a chance to discuss memories from a simple time when the only thing that truly mattered happened on ballfields — and the one that got away, a possible trip to the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylvania.

THE JOY OF YOUTH

Saved and preserved across five-plus decades, a color photograph in the possession of Philip Whitney looks as if it could have come from a scrapbook compiled by untold millions of other Americans.

Two rows of 12-year-olds, tall ones in front on one knee, shorter ones standing behind them, lined up in front of three coaches with the time and patience to teach kids how to hit a cutoff man.

Some of the boys grinned, others tried to mimic poses immortalized on big-league baseball cards.

“We used wood. Metal bats hadn’t been thought of yet,” said Terry Phelps. “And we played in flannel.”

Polyester uniforms, like aluminum bats, were years away from commonplace in 1964.

“We were good,” said Philip Whitney, the main organizing force behind a long overdue reunion scheduled for later this spring. “Twelve of the 14 are still with us, most of them local. We were good; this close to making it all the way to the Little League World Series.”

Of course he’d say that. Peering back through time with rose-tinted glasses and fuzzy memories, we all would say something similar.

But in this case, there is evidence buried deep in drawers filled with microfilm at the Forsyth County Central Library carefully stored in the North Carolina Collection.

Then, as now, print headlines out front dealt with serious matters of the day. “Civil Rights Act Now Law; Johnson asks all to comply,” reads one from July 3.

A far-off war in southeast Asia was heating up, and a name had been picked for a new arts school in Winston-Salem. Barry Goldwater and Lyndon Johnson were prominent names.

Deep inside the pages of the Winston-Salem Journal (and the afternoon Sentinel) is where uplifting community news could be found.

Articles about the Winston-Salem Little Leaguers — three of whom I’d just met — started small, competing for space with accounts of the Soap Box Derby and local tennis.

“Winston-Salem beats Southwest 10-4, advances to play Randleman in state playoffs.”

A couple more wins, 10-1 over Randleman and 10-3 over a team from Hickory, meant these boys would get to travel out past Asheville to Canton for a chance to advance in the single-elimination tournament.

“We didn’t think about the stakes or anything,” said Rick Easter, a star of that team who’d go on to play in high school and college. “It was just fun.”

CHOCOLATE, SODA AND PLANE RIDES

The idea to get the team back together is something Whitney had long considered.

He wanted to do it in 2014 to make it an even 50-year reunion. But real life, as it tends to, got in the way.

Still, he didn’t give up. Earlier this winter, he harnessed the (good) power of social media to track down his teammates. He found them all, rented a shelter at Miller Park for later this summer and sent out invitations. All accepted.

In a sort of preview, he, Phelps and Easter agreed to an early meeting one recent weekday morning.

“What else have I got to do?” Phelps cracked.

Some of their stories centered on baseball, an abiding love of which they still share. Easter just laughed recalling that he’d played competitively until his joints wore out or he turned 50, whichever came first.

“I didn’t think I’d live to be 50,” Easter said.

“Yeah, 50 was real old back then,” Phelps helpfully added.

Each of the men remembered a teammate named Jimmy Hylton, a prodigious hitter of home runs.

They swear they recall Hylton hitting a ball over Stratford Road from the old ballfield where businesses along Trenwest Drive now sit.

The more vivid memories, however, were sweeter, literally and figuratively, reflecting the fact that the games were played for (and by) kids.

Phelps remembered coaches giving them chocolate bars before games “for energy.” Easter recalled that any kid who hit a home run received a voucher good for a case of soda. “Tab, I think,” he said.

Even better (to 13-year-olds) was a chance afforded by Piedmont Airlines to go up in a real plane to fly around Pilot Mountain.

By the time the team got to Canton, interest in Winston-Salem had grown to the point where newspaper accounts contained the byline of Sentinel sports editor Carlton Byrd.

The Twin Citians, as Byrd called them, beat Tri-Communities (a small town amalgamation representing Caroleen, Cliffside and Henrietta in Rutherford County) 9-7 to advance to the state finals.

One game against Greenville remained; one more win and they’d get a shot at a regional competition that would be played back home in Winston and the World Series, a big deal but years from being the fixture on late summer TV that it is now.

Winston-Salem lost 5-2. “It wasn’t Winston-Salem’s day,” said Dick Easter, Rick’s dad and the team’s coach.

Maybe not. But innocent memories of candy bars, plane rides and friendships enduring over a lifetime are worth a whole lot more.