The last time we were here, in 2019, we went to the extraordinary World War I Museum. This time, we went to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. Just as extraordinary.

Growing up in St. Louis, baseball was all about the Cardinals and Browns. I never heard of the St. Louis Giants or the St. Louis Stars. They were already in the past. The Market Street stadium, in the heart of St. Louis’ notorious Mill Valley (notorious because it largely, even in the 1950s, largely consisted of row houses without indoor plumbing), had been demolished.

Now, the Negro League(s) get more attention. Living in DC, I do hear of the Homestead Grays, who played in both Pittsburgh and Washington until 1950, fairly often. But if I had grown up in Washington, I probably wouldn’t have.

The Negro League once drew crowds comparable to major league baseball. But the Depression and World War II hurt the league badly, as did Jackie Robinson’s joining the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947 and Larry Doby joining the Cleveland Indians in 1948.

The museum highlights both the history of the league(s) and individual players. It tells a great story, moving you along chronologically from the days long ago when only Oberlin College had a biracial team, and when there were actually a few Blacks signed by major league teams until there were threats from other teams that they would not play against Blacks and from fans who would not buy a ticket.

The exhibits highlight the talent of the players and the hatred they faced. It is, to a great extent, the story of 20th century America and, as Edie says, a great way to teach children about race in 20th century America. In addition to the lengthy chronology, there is a wonderful 15 minute film narrated by James Earl Jones, a baseball field with life size statues of all stars and much, much more. Google the museum and see how much you will learn.

And then there was my terrific cousins’ lunch (my four remaining first cousins on my father’s side). We live in Kansas City, Washington DC, Portland OR and Hot Springs AR. I think it’s the first time the four of us got together since our grandmother’s funeral in 1972. So much to talk about.

We met in the Plaza District at Jack’s Stack Barbeque, which turned out to be a great place for the reunion. Long table, relatively quiet, very good food, even for the pescatarian.

What else? Breakfast at Succotash, an informal place not far from the museum, located by googling Breakfast Near Me. Informal place, pretty crowded, they serve very good food. We were appreciative that they let us in even though we don’t have any tattoos. And it’s the only place we have been in where several staff members went out of the way to thank us for coming.

We did take the mandatory tour to the block where my father lived until he was 14. And of course went to the pre-wedding party of my cousin (once removed). The wedding takes place this evening.