Boomer’s Journal

It is These Moments That We Remember

By Tom Anselm

It happened on this same day, Oct. 27, five years ago. Game 6 of the World Series. St. Louis Cardinals versus Texas Rangers, who were up three games to two on us

Cardinal third baseman David Freese, a hometown kid, at bat in the bottom of the ninth. Redbirds down 9-7, two on, two out, one-two count. One swing, one out, maybe one pitch away from a Rangers championship.

Freese laces an outside fastball off the wall in right field. Two runs score to tie the game.

The Rangers plate two in the top of the 10th. Cards tie it, again, in their bottom half. Rangers fail to score in the 11th. So who comes up first in the Cardinal 11th?

David Freese.

He deposits a 3-2 Mark Lowe pitch halfway up the hill beyond the center field wall. Walk-off dinger. Improbable 10-9 win. Game 7 guaranteed and the 11^th World Championship

Memories of moments. We’ve all had them in our own lives. For many, they may be sports related. That catch or the goal that won the game. The tackle that saved the day. And there are others, less competitive in nature, but no less mind sticking.

I have been blessed to have many such moments. Count the meeting of The Lovely Jill, the births of our children and grandchildren, family weddings. Our wedding day.

Another 27^th; April of 1973. It was an overcast Friday. I was off that day with no particular responsibilities but to show up on time at St. Pius X church. Guys have it so easy, right? For some reason, I went to Bermuda School’s playground to shoot some baskets. Why? Who knows? Just killing time.

I was very simple, doncha know? Today I would probably be approached by the schools security officer and escorted off the grounds. I went back to our apartment at Lucas Hunt Village, took a nap (a staple for me, even then) and went to mom and dad’s for something to eat.

My best man and brother Rick drove me to the church in dad’s gold Plymouth Duster… a cool little coupe.

The sun came out later that afternoon, revealing a lovely spring day. The bride was stunning… of course. It was a great Mass by ‘The Family Priest’ Father Mike Owens, and wonderful reception full of dancing and craziness, with a traditional St. Louis wedding reception meal of roast beef and ham, mostaciolli and green beans, beer and set-ups.

I think it cost $1.10 per plate. Jill’s dad Jack had a number of bottles of adult beverages placed on tables. Well-done, sir.

The wonder-filled parade of children began not too long after that. Number 1 came on our second-married-Christmas Day, then Bastille Day, then D-Day, then July 4th, then my (and Elvis’s) birthday, then almost-April Fool’s Day. A Happy Host of Holiday happenings.

But just as life sends us lollipops and roses, it also deals us some tough hands. Sadness and grief enter our journey at expected and unexpected junctions. Neither way is it easy. My parents passing came after short illnesses, with dad’s labored, at least in his finals days.

Watching him, literally, take his final breath… not so good a memory. Mom’s was in a hospital room. I was asleep at home. Again… not good. Jill’s parents both went suddenly, terribly. Like I said, neither way is easy.

And the unexpected phone calls bringing exclamations of disbelief and instant grief, confusion, anger. Especially when it brings news of the loss of a child, or a young person. Those ‘how could this be?’ moments. We remember, we commemorate, these unhappy dates, the year, the … moment.

Clearly, the more days you are allotted and the more people in your life, the more you put yourself out there, the more you share your heart, well, the more of these times you will experience. As we read in Ecclesiastes, “To everything, there is a season.”

And so these moments, these seasons. Joyful, exhilarating wonder-filled… awesome. Sad, painful, unexpected… terrible.

May you savor the former, and have the strength and faith to weather the latter.

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