Martin Luther King, Jr. remains the most respected and well-known civil rights activist in this nation's history. Along with him we cannot forget Thurgood Marshall and his battle to desegrate schools in 1954 or Booker T. Washing
ton's intellect and boot-strapping philosophy that hard work, perservance, and good attitudes would pay off for African Americans. Tomorrow Barack Obama will take his place as the first U.S. African American president. His "never give up" attitude has instilled hope into all Americans for a brighter future. It will truly be a historical day--a day you can retell your children and grandchildren.
But there are days that we have missed, in which we were not there to account for the social, cultural, and political significance of an event. Yet, these roots should never be forgotten. 
Roots that take us back to the days of slavery, when blacks began to become athletes and the progress of those athletes open doors of equal competition, social tolerance, and equal rights. Evidence of black slaves playing baseball is well documented. It was a game they invested in and taught there children. However, the first African American ball players, John "Bud" Fowler and Moses Fleetwood Walker, quickly found out that despite their ability, the color of their skin was against them. A gentlemen's agreement amongst white team owners and players kept blacks away from the game dubbed as the National Pastime for decades.
Blacks continued the game on their own, though. Rube Foster formalized the Negro Leagues in 1920 at a YMCA in the 18th and Vine district of Kansas City, Missouri. Teams like the Kansas City Monarchs and the Chicago American Giants were formed, along with the Washington Grays, Birmingham Black Barons, Pittsburgh Crawfords, New York Black Yankees, the Newark Eagles, and many others. In between league games, these teams barnstormed the country with a game built on speed, agression, and passion. Players stole home regularly at the games. They turned signals into doubles. Pitchers, like Hilton Smith and Satchel Paige, threw complete games often on back to back nights.
This type of play attracted both white and black spectators, who came to the ballpark dressed in fashionable attire. In fact, in towns like Kansas City church would get out early so people could attend the games. Men dressed in suits, ties, and fedoras. Women preened with polished jewelry and prom-like dresses. In fact, one black Kansas City sports writer stated that the Monarchs did more to break down the social barriers than any other organization in the state. While the Kansas City Blues, a Yankee minor league affiliate, had segregated seating at their games, the Monarchs allowed whites and blacks to sit next to each other.
Negro League All-Star games at Comiskey Park drew more than 40,000 fans. Owners of the Monarchs invented night baseball in the Negro Leagues, years before the Major Leagues decided to do so. Legendary players like Paige, Josh Gibson, Buck Leonard, and "Cool Papa" Bell played in the Negro Leagues and caught the eye of Major League scouts, especially with they way they regularly pummeled white all-star teams in the off-season.
But it wasn't until the fall of 1945, when Jackie Robinson, after playing one year with the Monarchs, signed an offer from Branch Rickey to become the first modern black baseball player to play professionally. In the minor leagues for the Montreal Royals, Robinson proved himself by leading the farm team to a championship, making his appearance on the Major League stage in 1947 a practical certainity. Much like Obama, Robinson carried the hopes and dreams of millions of African Americans, who were looking to him to make good as a Major League player. Robinson shined immediately, helping the Dodgers reach the World Series in his first season and being voted Rookie of the Year.
Robinson's success opened the doors for other great African American athletes to follow, and opened the eyes to all Americans that no matter the skin color, all human beings are capable of greatness. Even before Robinson there was Jesse Owens and Jackie's brother, Mack, winning gold and silver medals, respectfully, at the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games. Of course we can't forget Joe Louis, a.k.a. "The Brown Bomber," who has held the heavyweight title longer than any person before or after him.
These athletes not only changed the landscape of their sport, but they were catalysts for social and culture change in America. These athletes, especially those in the Negro Leagues, played a major role in leading to the civil rights movement and leading up to the moment of a black president. Civil leaders pointed to the success of Robinson as a example of how blacks and whites can exist and succeed together--in fact do more together than apart. This was a change we so desparetly needed. Today will do well to remember this portion of our past. The times of segregation were not that long ago. Each of us may have grandparents who remember those times of struggle, tension, and conflict.
I myself became interested in this topic when I came across Byron Johnson, a former Negro League all-star, in Denver. I was finishing up my bachelor's degree in journalism at the time when I came across the 92-year-old man through a history professor. I found his 
story fascinating and reported on him for a our weekly college paper. I remember walking into his apartment, which was really part of a retirement home, and feeling a sense of nostaglia wash over me. He had a glass case of Negro League baseball souvenirs. His daughter was sporting a Kansas City Monarchs jersey at the time. Johnson had played for the Monarchs and the Satchel Paige All-Star's from 1937-1940 before being drafted. He was The Wizard (see Ozzie Smith) of his day. A nimble fielder with unmatchable range to both sides and a bullwhip arm that can gun a runner down at first from deep in the hole. In the two hours I interviewed him, I learned about the hardships of black baseball players. How they were denied access from restaurants and hotels by the same white fans who watched them play and cheered them on. Johnson remembers not being able to buy a baseball because of the color of his skin, so he used a Coke bottle cap or a crushed can instead. He retold tales of separate schools, bathrooms, and how the "black only" drinking fountain gurgled and spit out water laced with the rust from pipes, while the white fountain flowed pure and clean. He told of his military days during WWII, when captured enemy troops were fed in mess halls, while blacks received there food out back. As a boy, he swam in creeks, rivers, lakes, while whites swam in chlorinated pools. Despite all this he had no regrets. For baseball winched him through the segregation period. During those nine innings he forgot about color. All he saw was a baseball and he had to hit it, dive for it, and rip it across the diamond to gun down a runner at first base. 
I have since visited the 18th and Vine district in Kansas City, Missouri, and the Negro League Baseball Museum now located there. I've stood in front of the YMCA where the formal Negro Leagues began. From that point, baseball players and black sportwriters fought for equality to exist on the playing field. And as impartiality dispearsed across playing fields, the equality stretched across athletic boundaries and spilled into social and politcal landscapes. The experience of African American athletes have woven important threads in America's tapestry.
So Martin Luther King, Jr. Day isn't a day about one man. It is a day about a race defying odds and expectations. It is a day to glance back to put modern history into perspective. Tomorrow America will appear more democractic, but we have always been brothers and sisters, every connected despite the divisions--now generally personal divisions--that we have put up. We may be seperate as fingers are separate, because we each have different backgrounds, but we are one just as a hand is not complete without the inidividual fingers.
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