The Corner

Gerald Davies Right

“Are the Tigers playing in Detroit?” A question I’ve asked many times preparing to visit Motown. However, this time I found that question printed in a tattered, yellowing, newspaper clipping from the Detroit Free Press dated Saturday, September 25, 1948 carefully tucked away in a scrapbook. The ball-club was and two young boys realized a dream, I can only imagine what that was like . . .

While going through a box of old files from Lori’s late father I came across an article titled Youth’s First City Visit. A piece co-authored by 15 year old Gerald Davies from the farming community of Marlette, Michigan about his experiences visiting Detroit. The photo journal and article was a promotion sponsored by The Detroit Free Press as a student exchange. Gerald (Jerry) Davies from Marlette MI would meet his namesake Jerry Davies from Detroit, together they would visit and work on the farm, take a trip to the city, and attend a big-league ball game.

The weekend highlight was The Corner, the nickname for the intersection of Michigan and Trumbull Avenue, Briggs Stadium, (re-named Tiger Stadium 1961). That day two young boys were the VIP guests at a major league ball game, met Tigers manager Steve O’Neil and chatted with star players from the 1948 Tigers. The photo caption read, "Gerald was particularly impressed with outfielder Hoot Evers," (Walter Arthur Evers) who batted .314 in 1948.

Reading through the tattered article 65 years later, I can only speculate what game they saw that day. Scanning the Baseball Almanac, I'd like to think it was the 1948 pennant winning Cleveland Indians. A ball-club powered with such greats as Bob Feller, Lou Boudreau, and Larry Doby. The Indians whipped the Tigers 9-3. I'm going to dig deeper in that box, maybe I'll find the ticket stub? That would be very cool.

Be it nostalgia, the love of the game, or simply the longing to recreate the past, to this day, I’m able to follow the Detroit Tigers, my American league team, via my iPhone and MLB’s At Bat app. Its as if there’s a connection somehow. Maybe there is . . .

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