Jackie Robinson was a game-changer on and off the field: ‘His activism is probably something that is underappreciated’

A Life Is Not Important Except In The Impact It Has On Other Lives.” — Jackie Roosevelt Robinson’s Headstone

My grandmother took me to Mets games during the summer of 1964 when I was 10 years old.

Walking down the stairs from the elevated No. 7 train, I noticed a tall Black man with white hair signing autographs.

My grandmother smiled and I asked who was that man?

“That’s Mr. Jackie Robinson,” said the long-time Brooklyn Dodgers fan sporting one of her brightest smiles.

I was puzzled and asked, “Who’s Mr. Jackie Robinson?”

She told me he was the first “colored man” (her words) to play pro baseball.

I thought Nana was losing it. Baseball has been around forever. Was Mr. Jackie Robinson 200 years old?

No, she said, colored men weren’t allowed to play baseball until 1947.

“Why not?” I queried, really confused.

“Because he was colored,” she said.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” said the naive little boy.

“Exactly,” she replied.

As we walked away from Mr. Jackie Robinson, he was still signing autographs and my Nana was still smiling.

And I was more confused than ever because I just didn’t know his story.

Every April 15, Major League Baseball celebrates Jackie Robinson Day as every team member gets to wear Robinson’s league-wide retired No. 42 as remembrance and honor.

And rightfully so, for Robinson breaking the color barrier in baseball and for suffering the racial injustices that put him into an early grave in 1972.

He was 53.

People are right to celebrate his athletic achievements: he became the first athlete to letter in four sports (baseball, football, basketball and track) at his alma mater UCLA; breaking baseball’s color barrier with the Brooklyn Dodgers; Rookie of the Year; MVP; World Series champion; Hall of Famer.

The Jackie Robison Museum, an idea that was started in 2008 by his widow Rachel, is a lower Manhattan staple.

One of the biggest signs of the times when you tour the museum is Robinson’s 1955 World Series championship ring. It looks like a pinkie ring that could fit inside the humongous baubles they give out in the NBA or NFL today.

But don’t forget his legacy off the field.

He was a game-changer.

What you probably didn’t know was he was America’s first influencer.

When he decided to retire, he didn’t do it through the Dodgers, after he was traded to the New York Giants, he did it exclusively through Look Magazine.

And yes, he got paid for doing it.

“He was a fighter. No shrinking violet. He’d kick your ass,” said Willie Randolph, former captain of the Yankees and manager of the Mets. “I talked to Buck O’Neill, Monte Irvin and those guys and Jackie was no joke. A lot of people didn’t want to mess with him.”

For all things Jackie, The Jackie Robinson Museum, located at 75 Varick St. in lower Manhattan which opened in July 2022, is more than just gloves, balls and bats. There’s more to him than just being a pioneering baseball player.

The museum shows you all sides of the man and even boasts 42 video monitors with famous athletes like Sandy Koufax, CC Sabathia and others in and out of sports talking about the pioneering Cairo, Ga., native.

Robinson was an activist in a time that stubbornly wasn’t ready for it.

The Minnesota Twins line up on the base line wearing No. 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson before a baseball game against the Boston Red Sox, Friday, April 15, 2022, in Boston. (AP Photo/Michael Dwyer)

***

For the past 19 years, Della Britton has been the President & CEO of the Jackie Robinson Foundation. She knows he was a great athlete, but there is so much more to the man.

FILE – Jackie Robinson, infielder for the Brooklyn Dodgers, swings his bat in this action pose at Ebbett’s Field in Brooklyn, N.Y., on May 9, 1951. (AP Photo File)

“Jackie often said the ballot and the buck are the keys to advancing our community,” said Britton, a graduate of Princeton and Columbia Law School. She wants the museum to show people another side of Robinson. “We want them to see the prolific life that Jackie had beyond baseball, including making sure the pieces were in place to level the playing field across our society.”

Robinson left his mark in so many ways and arenas.

During the war years, he was a Second Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. One time Robinson refused to sit in the back of the bus, which was a Jim Crow “understanding,” and was court-martialed for it but acquitted.

He helped desegregate hotels that did business with the Dodgers including the five-star Chase Park Hotel in St. Louis.

In 1959, Robinson went into the whites-only waiting room in the Greenville (S.C.) Municipal Airport and refused to leave.

The former All-Star infielder also served as an analyst for the Major League Baseball Game of the Week and wrote for the Pittsburgh Courier and Amsterdam News newspapers.

He was a pioneer in business as he was the highest-rated Black executive for a major company as the Vice President of Human Resources for the Chock Full o’Nuts corporation.

Robinson co-founded the Freedom National Bank on 125th Street in Harlem and supported political candidates, both Republicans and Democrats. He was also a special assistant for New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller.

The fact that Robinson endorsed politicians on both sides of the aisle didn’t sit well with many.

“That rubbed some Black folks wrong,” said Bob Kendrick, president of the Negro Leagues Museum in Kansas City where Robinson played for the Kansas City Monarchs. “He was very polarizing from that standpoint.”

Besides all the accolades he captured on the field, Robinson was posthumously awarded the prestigious Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1984 by President Reagan and the Congressional Gold Medal in 2005 presented by President George W. Bush.

While people can quote his on-the-field accomplishments, they might be surprised to discover all he’s done off the field.

“It is surprising for a lot of people to learn that his career was so expansive,” stated Kendrick. “His activism is probably something that is underappreciated.

“Here in the Museum, we always talk about him from the context of him being a central figure in the Civil Rights movement,” Kendrick said. “He’s right there shoulder to shoulder with Dr. King.”

“It’s less documented just how he was so active on the political front,” noted Britton. “We want people to see the broad impact that Jackie had well beyond the playing field. We want to inspire people to recognize how one person can make a difference.”

The Foundation does that by giving 242 scholarships this year with grants through the JRF Impact Program averaging $30,000 with the proviso that each scholarship winner does four years of community service. Students can apply for the scholarship program at the time of their high school graduation by contacting the Foundation, which has some very generous donors.

“Derek Jeter has been one of our most generous professional athletes to support the Foundation … him and Michael Jordan,” Britton said. “That’s activism in my view. I think [Jackie] would be proud of the organization.”

Through all that Robinson endured, he is still remembered, fifty years after his passing, with reverence.

“He was my inspiration,” Randolph, a six-time second base All-Star and owner of six World Series rings who never met the man, said. “I grew up not too far from Ebbets Field. Because he looked like me and because he was an infielder, I wanted someone to look up to.

“He was a strong, dignified man. He reminds me of my uncles and father. He inspired me and it was an honor to wear his uniform number during the WBC (coach, 2013 and 2017 first place). Any connection with him is very special to me.”

The Impact Program is separate from the Scholarship Program. The Impact Program is an online resource for college students who have not received scholarships to follow.

***

A few months after our visit to Shea Stadium, my grandmother was taking me to Macy’s for hamburgers at their upstairs luncheonette counter.

As we walked past a Chock Full o’Nuts restaurant, I saw him sitting at the counter.

“Nana, isn’t that Mr. Jackie Robinson who we saw at Shea?” I asked.

Robinson was reading a newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee (… Better Coffee a Millionaire’s Money Can’t Buy …).

Nana smiled and nodded yes. I asked her if we could go inside and say hello.

“No,” she said. “We don’t want to bother him.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Jackie Robinson for the last time and after all these years, I wished we had bothered the iconic baseball player and activist.