Reese Embraces Robinson, Embraces Change
By Patrick Dougherty, with comments by Billy Oppenheimer
[1] In 2005, New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg unveiled a monument dedicated to the historic moment when Pee Wee Reese put his arm around Jackie Robinson in an act of solidarity and unity during a game in Cincinnati. It comes as no surprise that director Brian Helgeland would set this moment up to be the pivotal scene of acceptance and racial triumph in his movie 42. The statue of Reese and Robinson and this film commemorate an event that occurred during Robinson’s rookie season during an away game in Cincinnati. But the historical accuracy of this event is still very much in question. Unlike today’s vigorous and in-depth sports reporting, sports coverage in Robinson’s day was sparse. Ironically, there was “very little reporting on†Robinson’s historic first season in 1947 (Cronin). To make matters worse, there are very few mentions of this historic event in literature on Robinson’s life or in interviews given by Robinson about the event. Dodger pitcher Rex Barney “recalled the event 40 years later†in a book about the history of the Dodgers (Cronin). In his autobiography Robinson places the event “in Boston during a period when the heckling pressure seemed unbearable." Reese, he says, "left his position and walked over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and began talking to me†(Robinson 64). This time-gap makes Barney semi-unreliable. Perhaps more reliably, Robinson himself stated in a 1952 interview that this momentous occasion occurred in a 1948 game in Boston. Robinson “later repeated the same story in his 1960 book†(Cronin). In his autobiography Robinson places the event “in Boston during a period when the heckling pressure seemed unbearable." Reese, he says, "left his position and walked over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and began talking to me†(Robinson 64). This would make the time and place of the Robinson-Reese embrace seem definite. Yet the event yet again falls into question because “Robinson and Reese, later in their lives, claimed the Cincinnati version as the truth†(Cronin). Regardless of the date or location of the event, Helgeland thought it necessary to his film.
[2] This scene is integral to the success of the movie. It truly is the crucial moment of acceptance, and Reese serves as the hero who has the courage to reach across the battle lines and physically and figuratively embrace Robinson not only as a teammate but also a human being. (see comment by Billy Oppenheimer) The scene chooses to open with a jovial, and fictional, conversation between a young white boy, who idolizes Reese, and his father. Together they express their high hopes for Reese’s performance that day. But as quickly as that, Robinson steps foot on the field, and the white father and the rest of the white audience begin an unrelenting verbal onslaught on him. For a brief moment we are able to see the hate in the face of the father as he hurls racial slurs toward the field. Helgeland chooses to keep the camera trained primarily on the face of the young white boy as he becomes nervous and confused. He is unsure what to do and uncomfortable with the anger around him. The boy suffers a few more moments of confusion but then decides to join in with his elders in yelling racial epithets at Robinson. The boy’s reaction serves as proof that racism is not an inherent quality in human beings. Rather, it is taught and learned by impressionable people.
[3] The Dodgers are getting into their inter-inning warm-up as the white Cincinnati crowd continues to torment Robinson. Prior to this scene, we learn that Reese is particularly worried about how he and the Dodgers would be welcomed, especially because his hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, is so close to Cincinnati. While the Dodgers are warming up, the camera shows us the stress that the crowd is causing Reese. So, instead of throwing the ball to Robinson, Reese trots from the short stop position over to Robinson at first base. Robinson mentions that the crowd is full of “crackpots still fighting the Civil War.†Reese awkwardly responds with a joke, at which Robinson doesn’t laugh, about how the South might have won if “the cornstalks had held out.†It is at that moment that Reese grabs Robinson and puts his arm around him, only to greater boos from the crowd. Helgeland chooses to have the camera positioned below and behind Robinson and Reese so that the vastness of the crowd can be seen during this embrace. Here, we are meant to view Reese as making a decided effort to change and be different than his white family members and friends who undoubtedly have filled the stands. Reese says that “they need to know†where he stands on racism in America. This scene is meant to prove that Reese stands united with his black brothers. (see comment by Billy Oppenheimer)
[4] As Reese utters these sentiments to Robinson, the camera immediately cuts to the young boy again, this time, with a look of shame in his face because he was just taunting a man who his hero, Reese, clearly accepts. This final cut of the camera masterfully serves the purpose of showing what kind of effect this gesture might have had on society and, in particular, this young white boy. Reese’s actions in this scene are a manifestation of Reese’s own words decades later when he said that on that day he “was just trying to make the world a little bit better†(Cronin). This effect on the white boy is the ultimate purpose of the scene. Hegeland is making the claim that change can, and must, start with one simple act. This simple gesture has gone down in history.
[5] It is worth noting that in August 2013, the statue of Reese and Robinson was vandalized with racist words and Nazi symbols written in black marker (Thomas et al.). As powerful as Reese’s embrace of Robinson was, maybe Helgeland is correct that there are still people “fighting the Civil War.†At least it can be assumed that, while society has come infinitely far from the days of segregation, there are still members of society who wish that it was not so. Racism did not die in 1947 when Robinson broke the color barrier, nor did it cease to exist after the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s or the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Racism, unfortunately, is still alive and well in our country. Helgeland’s depiction of Reese and Robinson in the movie 42 is so full of impact because it shows the massive positive effect that just one individual can have on the world in which he lives. It is almost entirely certain that Pee Wee Reese did put his arm around Jackie Robinson during a game played for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Regardless of where and when, this moment, forever immortalized by the statue in Brooklyn, should stand as a reminder of how far our country has come on the path of acceptance, equality, and fairness. But let it also stand as challenge to all who see it that the work of equality is not over, that more can always be done.
Comments
I am reluctant to agree with the usage of a word like “hero†in association with anyone in this film besides Jackie Robinson. Yes, it was admirable and courageous of Reese to put his arm around Robinson in front of a stadium full of people who hate him, but I’m not sure if he was heroic. Heroism is taking abuse from thousands of people day after day simply because they don’t accept the color of your skin and doing so not for your own good but the good of humanity. My favorite scene in the movie comes when Dodgers owner Branch Rickey first brings Robinson into his office. Rickey warns Robinson about the abuse that inevitably awaits him ands asks if he's “got enough guts not to fight back†when provoked by other players or fans. I think it is important to remember that Robinson was not the best player in the Negro Leagues. He wasn’t the most talented fielder or the most powerful hitter. But Rickey believed him to be the one toughest enough to withstand the backlash of whites. It is scary to think about what might have ensued if a weaker man were selected to step into that fire.
I would like to further this idea that “This scene is meant to prove that Reese stands united with his black brothers.†The umpire breaks up this embrace of Reese and Robinson, asking if Reese is here to socialize or play ball. Before Reese trots back to shortstop, he says to Jackie, “Maybe tomorrow we’ll all wear 42, that way they won’t tell us apart.†This is a great line in the movie, and, interestingly enough, every year on April 15th, Major League Baseball celebrates Robinson by having every player wear No. 42, the only number retired across the entire MLB. On this day, just as Reese hoped, it is difficult to tell players apart, banding all players together, black and white -- a true tribute to what Robinson endured and the tremendous barriers he broke down.
