Me and Jackie Robinson: Awakenings as a Historian

Me and Jackie Robinson: Awakenings as a Historian Harry Reed Mrs., which we pronounced Miz or even sometimes Miss, Nan Gray my sixth-grade teacher, was quite proud of me. She had mentioned to my mother that I was such a good student that I should think about becoming a doctor. Although I had no interest in being a doctor I went along with the program, which included talking to Miz Gray about coUege, the novels I was reading, and also working at her house, cleaning on Saturday mornings. She later lost her admiration for me because I seemed to be less than enthusiastic about going to coUege. We had a conversation in which she asked me directly for the first time ifI wanted to be a doctor. My answer was no. Before that conversation, however, Jackie Robinson intervened and added to my reputation with Miz Gray. The entire school had been called to a special assembly that morning. Unlike other special assembUes, no one, not even the teachers, knew the subject ofthis special assembly. Our school, New Jersey Avenue School, was an enviable physical plant "for a black school," I had heard adults say. NewJersey's auditorium could seat about 400 people on its main floor and about half that number in its balcony. Mr. T. Montgomery Gregory, the principal, was alone on the stage as we filed in. He waited for us to be quiet and take our seats. Mr. Gregory said that something had happened yesterday that was a first, and a great day in Negro History (both were always capitalized by his generation, even in their speeches). He wondered ifany ofus knew what this momentous event was. There was a pause in the packed auditorium. Almost without thinking I raised my hand. As I remember it, I also raised my entire body out of my chair and waved wüdly No other hand in the auditorium was raised. "That Uttle boy in the back. Ifyou think you know, come on up here" Mr. Gregory said. He seemed to be straining to get a good look at me. 86 FIarry Reed87 My class occupied the seats in the second half ofthe bottom floor under the balcony. Everyone was straining to see who he was talking to, and a buzz started in the room. I heard at least one voice say, "That's Gertie Reed's Uttle brother." At Mr. Gregory's invitation, I bolted down the center aisle. When I got on the stage, I put one arm on the podium, crossed one leg over the other, and smiled at the school. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my sister, an eighth-grader, sliding down her seat in embarrassment. Later, when she reported the incident to our mother, she said "He was aU dirty and ashy, his shirt wasn't tucked in back, one ofhis socks was down, the leg of one ofhis knickers had faUen, he didn't stand up straight, and was leaning on the podium and grinning Uke a fool." She was partly right; Mr. Gregoryjust let me stand there. He then said "TeU the school what you know." I fairly blurted out "Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson to a contract to play basebaU for Montreal, the Brooklyn Dodgers farm team!"Through that whole shouted sentence I maintained my grin and my leaning pose. My sister had disappeared into her seat. With that, Mr. Gregory started clapping and of course everybody joined in and almost immediately we were singing, "Lift Every Voice and Sing," the Negro National Anthem. When we finished and everybody was seated, Mr. Gregory told me I could go back to my seat. He hadn 't even asked me my name. My fame was fleeting. Not a single kid, not even any ofmy basebaU buddies , said a word about my performance. It wasn't envy, nor was I looking for their praise, we just went back to being Uttle wild boys in sixth grade. But something else happened. Not only did Mrs. Gray talk up coUege even more, but other teachers were talking to me about my studies and my plans. The attention made sense when it came...