Hickey Theology

In April 1965 the Hickey family’s adventure on Dewberry Lane came to an end. The house at 2103 was for sale and the Hickey’s could not afford to buy it. So, we moved to 1216 Trimm Ave on the other side of the Strawberry and became renters, again.

I was so upset that we were moving that I forgot to sign-up for little league baseball. It was going to be a new league called Pan American Little League. When my mom contacted Mr. Grothe, who was the president of the league, he told her that the league was full, but he would put my name of a list. Mr. Grothe said, if an opening happened, he would contact her.

I was lucky that we didn’t move far from Dewberry, so I was able to continue playing with my friends. The problem was they were playing on teams, and I wasn’t. I began to wish for an opening on a team every day.

We had not been in our new house more than two weeks when there was a horrible crash. On May 1,1965 it was at a corner that was less than a block away from our house. A man ran a red light and hit the Spiller family car.

The mother (Dawn) and their 5-year-old son Gregory were killed instantly. The father survived along with the oldest son George and middle son, Ronnie. George would be a quadriplegic for the rest of his life. George would pass away in 2017. In my search for more information, I believe that they weren’t sure that George was going to survive so when they laid Gregory to rest, they already had George’s name of the headstone with the inscription ‘BROTHERS’.

Ronnie spent a lot of time in the hospital recovering from all his injuries. Ronnie would survive and recover, but he wasn’t going to be playing for the Pan-American minor league Owls. I did not know Ronnie, but was deeply saddened by his loss, still I wished every day for an opening so I could play baseball.

My mom got a call from Mr. Grothe telling her there was an opening and he would like to come talk with me. Mr. Grothe arrived and sat with me in our living room. He was a very pleasant, but as he began to talk as much as he tried to smile there was a deep sadness in his voice.

Mr. Grothe explained to me that I would be playing on the OWLS. Mr. Grothe went on the explain that the boy I was replacing was in a car accident in which his mom and brother were killed, and he was badly injured. It was at that moment I realized that I was taking that boy’s place. I had this horrible feeling, of guilt, and shame because I had been wishing for a place on a team and a boy lost his family and because of my wish he was injured and suffered this tragedy so I could play.

There were tears in Mr. Grothe’s eyes as he left. I sat there stunned. How could I have been so selfish, this boy is suffering a tremendous tragedy, and my wish came true. There was a moment when I told my mom I couldn’t do it, the guilt was overwhelming.

I eventually did play. I had to ride my bike to my very first game. There was no one there to cheer me on. I was the odd duck, because not only was I taking their teammate’s place I was so big they could not get me a shirt with OWLS on the front. I entered the game in right field. I caught three flies that night. When it came to batting, I was 3 for 4 (Double, Double, Triple, Walk).

The game ended (we won) and I started home all alone until I had stop to cry. I was overwhelmed with emotion. Through my tears I kept saying, “It should be Ronnie”. I sat down on the sidewalk and cried until my mom came looking for me. I cried as I loaded my bike in the car and cried all the way home. I had celebrated the win, but my mind and heart were with Ronnie.

It was magical season, but it was bittersweet because every time I read my name in the Pasadena Citizen on how I performed I thought of Ronnie. I decided that each time I walked on to field for each game I dedicated the game to Ronnie.

I spoke with Ronnie from time to time when we were in high school together and a few years ago. The physical injuries have healed, but the emotionally wounds still run deep. I still have a very vivid memory of Mr. Grothe and the emotions he was feeling. He told me in later years it was one of the most difficult things he had to do.

Eventually the field we played on became named SPILLER FIELD. My wish came true, but a tragedy happened, and I have never forgotten Ronnie’s loss, and I tried each game to honor Ronnie.

Until Next Time……………………….Grace and Peace