No Regrets!

Just outside of Cleveland is the grave of deadball baseball star Ed Delahanty. He’s an interesting figure in baseball history.

Edward James Delahanty (October 30, 1867 – July 2, 1903), nicknamed “Big Ed”, was an American professional baseball player, who spent his Major League Baseball (MLB) playing career with the Philadelphia Quakers, Cleveland Infants, Philadelphia Phillies, and Washington Senators. He was renowned as one of the game’s early power hitters, and while primarily a left fielder, also spent time as an infielder. Delahanty won a batting title, batted over .400 three times, and has the fifth-highest career batting average in MLB history. He was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1945.

Delahanty died when he was swept over Niagara Falls in early July 1903. He was apparently kicked off a train by the train’s conductor for being drunk and disorderly. The conductor said Delahanty was brandishing a straight razor and threatening passengers after he consumed five whiskies. After being kicked off the train, Delahanty started his way across the International Railway Bridge connecting Buffalo, New York with Fort Erie (near Niagara Falls) and fell or jumped off the bridge (some accounts say Delahanty was yelling about death that night). Whether Delahanty died from his plunge over the Falls or drowned on the way to the Falls is uncertain. His body was found at the bottom of Niagara Falls two weeks after his death.

Calvary Cemetery is huge with meandering roads over gentle slopes. There are some impressive tombstones in this one, making our slow drive through serenely beautiful. Using the map posted by the entrance, it was easy to find Delahanty’s section. He rests in a Delahanty family plot right next to road, buried between his parents and sister. There were no baseballs or memorabilia this time, just a standing tombstone with the family name and small markers for each family member, all of them filthy.

Rob took it upon himself to clean some of the dirt off of Ed’s grave marker. Sad that they don’t keep these things clean.

I knew that Ed had a baseball player brother named Jim, but Jim didn’t seem to be there with the rest of the family. Research revealed that Jim was buried in the same cemetery but in a different section. It was a fun little scavenger hunt as we drove around and finally found it, stopping to take a few more photos along the way.

From there, we headed into downtown Cleveland, finding it browner, older, crumblier, and generally crappier than Pittsburgh in almost every way. The most modern buildings seem to be from the 70’s and 80’s. Doesn’t seem like they had the money or the movement to revitalize the city and give it a bit of style, as Pittsburgh has done so successfully. The haze hanging in the sky makes an already dreary city even more dreary.

Our first stop in town was League Park, once home to the Cleveland Indians and a park that looks beautiful in old-timey photos. Today, only the ticket office and part of the grandstand wall remains, while a new turf field has been laid exactly in place over the original playing surface.

The ticket office has been turned into the small Baseball Heritage Museum. Rob talked at length with the staff, while I walked around and browsed the displays on my own. There are a few relics of interest, including Babe Ruth’s #436 home run ball signed by Ruth and many other stars, but the uniforms and trinkets that fill the rest of the room are mediocre. Some photos of the park in its glory days would really help give the current structure a sense of place.

The surrounding neighborhood is very old and very run-down, with some houses over a century old falling apart and other lots presumably with houses torn down and left completely empty.

We returned to downtown Cleveland to park the car. On our walk through the crumbling city streets, I asked Rob for his first impression of Cleveland: “dirty shithole”. At a local bar called City Tap, we met John and Keegan, guys I know from an online baseball simulation league I play in. We caught up over drinks.

Progressive Field was just around the corner. Rob and I got there early and soaked up the scene for an hour before the game started. The ballpark has brown and beige coloring matches the city, and there are a few nice touches like a small, open pavilion in centerfield, cubical glass suites that jut out over the seats, and what must be the biggest damn scoreboard in the league, but overall I find the park to be mostly business and lacking personality.

Once again, we were treated to bleacher seats in left field, but at this park, we are raised up quite a bit higher than the playing field. Being so far removed means we’re quite a bit removed from the players and game but also that any plays near the left field wall are not be visible to us.

In the 6th inning, in what seems to have become a tradition, Rob and I took a walk around the ballpark to explore the views and take some photos, and I admit that Progressive Field feels more balanced and the sightlines are more impressive when viewed from above. However, on this walk, we were accosted by the same midges that famously swarmed Joba Chamberlain in Game 2 of the 2007 ALDS. As far as ballparks go, Progressive Field is slightly above average for me.

John and Keegan were excellent company, and Cleveland slugger Jose Ramirez had the game of his life, hitting 3 home runs and making a couple of dazzling plays at third base. Cleveland came away with an easy 10-3 win over the Boston Red Sox.

After the game, we went across the street to the Thirsty Parrot to hang out. A great evening with those guys, lots of laughs.

A long day, but another fun one. We got to our hotel and crashed hard.

This morning, we finished our Cleveland tour by hitting a few highlights. First was Edgewater Park to give Rob his first look at Lake Erie and a view of the distant Cleveland skyline. Walking out onto the pier, with Lake Erie’s rolling, crashing waves and featureless horizon, it looks and sounds just like the ocean. Then we walked over to the beach to stick our finger into Lake Erie. Yup, feels just like water!

Next was a quick stop at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to get some photos in front of the iconic pyramid. Tourists getting in the way of photos annoyed Rob.

Then off to the Christmas Story house, the actual location to shoot the 1983 movie. The movie was not a staple of my childhood, but Rob enjoyed the stop. More interesting than the house was the impressive gift shop across the street. So much stuff!

For breakfast, we went to Grumpy’s Cafe, a local TripAdvisor recommendation. While the Raspberry Hibiscus Iced Tea was delicious, my Cinnamon Apple Walnut French Toast was disappointingly bland. How can something with that many ingredients flavors be bland? I don’t know, but it made me grumpy.

Then back to the car for a long stretch of driving. Rob’s car is strangely infested with ants. I first discovered this last night when I tried to drink from my water bottle and a few dozen of them fell onto my face and into my mouth. On today’s ride, I felt a few more crawling on me but stayed on the alert and made sure things didn’t get out of hand. Also, I have become adept at imitating the sound of the Kia Forte turn signal with my mouth.

We drove into the rolling hills of rural Pennsylvania in search of Unity Cemetery, where the grave of children’s television star Mr. Rogers can be found. Fred Rogers was not a baseball player, but Rob and I have a lot of respect for the guy, especially after the slew of recent documentaries, so we wanted to make sure we stopped here on our trip.

Fred McFeely Rogers (March 20, 1928 – February 27, 2003), better known as Mister Rogers, was an American television host, author, producer, and Presbyterian minister. He was the creator, showrunner, and host of the preschool television series Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, which ran from 1968 to 2001.

His work in children’s television has been widely lauded, and he received more than 40 honorary degrees and several awards, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2002 and a Lifetime Achievement Emmy in 1997. He was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame in 1999. Rogers influenced many writers and producers of children’s television shows, and his broadcasts provided comfort during tragic events, even after his death.

Unity Cemetery lays in the hills near Rogers’ hometown of Latrobe. The day had started with glorious blue sky, sunshine, and a cool breeze, but by the time we got here, gray clouds blanketed the sky, helping to set the mood.

While some Rogers family members are buried under markers, Fred lays in a small adjoining mausoleum curiously labelled with the name Given (a family name on his mother’s side). I had expected more of a shrine with more trinkets, but all we found on the mausoleum door was a dried flower, a keychain, and some loose change. Looking inside the tiny door windows, we could see Fred’s crypt, with gentle light shining through stained glass on the opposite side.

Many of the nearby gravestones have impressive, almost photographic-quality etchings on them, some of them in color. Either the local mason does great work, or there’s some technology that makes this really easy now.

Our next stop was the nearby Flight 93 National Memorial, and we were running a bit late, so Rob exceeded the speed limit through traffic over hilly roads and aggressively engaged cruise control around blind turns. Full props to Rob for getting us to the visitor center 20 minutes before it closed.

Inside the visitor center are pieces of wreckage, horrifying audio recordings, and graphic details about the crash and recovery operation of Flight 93, a plane deliberately crashed into a field during the terrorist attacks of 9/11. The content is powerful, especially after I learned that the plane turned around near Cleveland and took nearly the same route we did to get here today. As we perused the displays, the National Park staffers were oddly cheerful. Maybe toning it down a bit should be a part of their training for this place?

Outside, Rob and I walked the thoughtfully and dramatically designed memorial grounds, soaking up the scene and and feeling the feelings. We walked down to the memorial gate near the crash site and had the place to ourselves for a while, the only sounds being birds chirping and the sound of wind in the trees.

There’s a tragic beauty to this place. Rob and I were both moved. We usually like to have a good time, but we didn’t crack any jokes here.

Back in the car, Rob, the ants, and I headed into remote, thickly forested back roads to find Gravity Hill, a much-needed, quirky, light-hearted stop. A gravity hill is a place where the layout of the surrounding land produces an optical illusion, visually confusing the true direction of a slope. The gag is to drive onto the slope, put your car in neutral, and be amazed when the car starts to roll the wrong way. At this particular location, the visual effect works best when approaching by car from the east, climbing a steep hill, and cresting the top before coming “down” onto a section of road that is in fact still going up.

With our action-packed day complete, we stopped for dinner at Texas Roadhouse in Chambersburg. When traveling, I try to avoid chain restaurants, especially ones that play very loud music, especially ones that play very loud country music, but this was just about the only place open late.

Now in our hotel room and wrapping it up for the night. One more action-packed day tomorrow with a visit to Gettysburg in the morning and a trip to Baltimore for a few more graves and one final baseball game.