Looking Back:
The Iconic
‘Grab-and-Run’
Some historical events just get burnt into your brain. If you are my age (or older) you will remember exactly where you were in 1963 when JFK was shot. You remember where you were when you heard about and watched the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Of course, the tragic 1968 assassinations of MLK, and Bobby Kennedy will be forever frozen in our minds and hearts. On a positive note, do you remember looking up into the sky during the first moon landing? “...One giant leap for mankind.” I can tell you exactly what I was doing and feeling during all those events. In 1986 I was supervising a school lunch room in Harrisonville when the Challenger spacecraft exploded on takeoff killing all seven astronauts. As a school, we had been following the launch, because of Christa McAuliffe being the first teacher in space. We were shocked and worried about how the kids would be affected. Memories burnt into my brain.
Let me add three nice frozen memories. I can clearly remember the first time I saw it on TV. In fact, I saw it many times. I still like seeing it. It was a simple “grab-and-run”, but it will go down as one of the most iconic patriotic moments of the ‘70s, heck maybe in post-Civil Rights history. Hard to imagine that it was at a baseball game. I am not talking about a special National Anthem, the Blue Angels flying overhead or a wounded soldier being recognized. It was done by a 30-year-old centerfielder named Rick Monday. It was on April 25, 1976. Monday played for the Cubs and they were playing the L.A. Dodgers on the road. In the fourth inning when two protesters (a father and a son) ran into the outfield and were preparing to ignite an American Flag, Monday ran in and scooped up the flag. That one simple grab is forever frozen in millions of grateful minds. Monday ran across the field with the flag waving, and walked it into the Dodgers dugout. The fans cheered, but many were not sure what had just happened. When Monday came up to bat in the top of the fifth he got a standing ovation. The scoreboard flashed “Rick Monday, you made a great play.” He later said, “If you’re going to burn the flag, don’t do it around me. I’ve been to too many veterans’ hospitals and seen too many broken bodies of guys who tried to protect it.” Monday had served, while playing MLB, a six-year commitment with the United States Marine Corps Reserve.
Even though 1976 was our country’s Bicentennial, in many ways, it was a troubling time for our country. The country was still healing from Viet Nam, Watergate, the Energy Crisis, the Cold War, Race Riots, Patty Hearst, the Son of Sam, etc. In other words, it was a tough decade. Folks did not have a lot of confidence in their government, or maybe even in themselves. Somehow that grab-and-run grabbed our hearts. Something so simple, but yet so good, so needed. The Cubs lost the game that day, but Monday helped win the hearts of many patriots, young and old. Monday received considerable attention over that patriotic decision. Monday, now age 77, still has the flag he saved from the protesters. It was presented to him on “Rick Monday Day”, May 4, 1976, during a pregame ceremony at Wrigley Field. He has been offered up to $1 million to sell it, but has declined all offers. For the serious baseball fan, you might know that Rick Monday was the very first pick in the very first MLB draft in 1965. He went to the KC Athletics. He spent 18 years in the majors. He will be remembered for being a pretty good player, a great teammate, and the man that rescued the American flag. He helped shore up our country’s patriotism at a time when we desperately needed it. He still gets invitations to talk about the ‘rescue’ and he is glad to do it.
On a personal note, I have felt those patriotic goosebumps recently while being at two different ball games. At these ball games, during the National Anthems, the speaker system died, but the crowd continued singing, and they sang with purpose, almost like they were glad the sound system broke, so their voices could be heard. Somehow it felt good. Corny I know.
My last frozen patriotic memory was a visit to the ‘Tomb of the Unknown Soldier’ in Washington D.C. There were a lot of tourists milling around and many loud rambunctious teenagers. I was worried about how respectful the crowd, especially the teenagers, would be when the hourly ‘Changing of the Guard’ took place. I had nothing to be worried about. When the ceremony started everybody stopped, hats were taken off, and young and old alike stood perfectly still. I was proud of them, and my country.
Until next time.
