In 2008, the one and only eulogy ever given for Babe Ruth was delivered by Bill Jenkinson, a historian who has been scrutinizing the baseball legend for decades. It took place at an event that attracted 2,500 people to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the very place of Ruth’s 1948 funeral, and this was 60 years later. There had been no eulogy at the funeral.
Jenkinson tried to make sense of the profound grief that gripped the nation when the Bambino died at the age of 53.
“I think it was about hope,” he said. “Life had a way of regularly knocking Babe Ruth down. But he always got back up, and when he did he swung for the fences. And Americans everywhere loved him for it. They saw this unlikely man constantly overcoming adversity despite his humble origins.”
In 1918, two seasons before Ruth joined the New York Yankees, he was a star pitcher with the Boston Red Sox and beginning to establish himself as a power hitter — the very first power hitter in baseball. That year, he led the American League in home runs, the first of 12 times that he would accomplish this feat.
But something else also happened to him in 1918. He contracted the Spanish flu — influenza — and not just once, but twice. The history is worth remembering as New York and America struggle to overcome the coronavirus.
A new book called “War Fever: Boston, Baseball in the Shadow of the Great War,” by Randy Roberts and Johnny Smith, explains how the 23-year-old Ruth got influenza more than a hundred years ago.
In May of 1918, after spending the day at a public beach, he went home and his temperature hit 104 degrees. He did indeed have the Spanish flu. The Red Sox team doctor treated him by coating his throat with a compound of silver nitrate which only worsened his condition. Ruth had to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital.
Keep in mind that America had just entered the Great War, and 11 members of the Red Sox had already left for the cause. Losing Ruth, who was widely regarded as the best left-handed pitcher in the American League, would have been disastrous for the team.
But a few days later, he recovered and returned to the lineup. Then, over a period of six weeks in May and June, he walloped 11 home runs which was more than five AL teams would collect for the whole season. Incidentally, out-homering teams would be a staple of the Ruth persona and it is something no other player has ever done since.
Despite the inauspicious beginnings to his 1918 season, Ruth would go on to be the only .300 hitter on the Red Sox, and lead them in home runs and RBIs. But that was only part of the show. On the mound as a starting pitcher, he would win 13 games, lose 7, and sport an ERA of 2.22.
The 1918 baseball season was shortened because of the pandemic and pitchers weren’t even allowed to use the spitball. It was considered a health hazard. The World Series was held in September, but health officials had issued dire warnings about the wisdom of holding it at all since they feared the pandemic might return in a second wave. Sound familiar?
Nevertheless, the powers that be in Major League Baseball were undeterred. The World Series between the American League champion Red Sox and National League champion Chicago Cubs went forward. Ruth was the starter in game one and got a shutout. He then started game four and tossed seven scoreless innings before giving up a run. He won that game too and was instrumental in the Red Sox becoming champions. In other games he played the outfield.
However, health authorities were right about exercising caution. Boston, a port that saw a lot of sailors and soldiers coming and going, became an epicenter for the second wave of influenza. Not only were three World Series games held in Beantown, but there were parades, rallies and a huge war drive with almost 100,000 people on hand to register for the draft.
Wouldn’t you know it, but Ruth caught the bug. Again. In fact, one report said he was so sick during the World Series that he had to lie down between innings because of his aches and fever from the flu.
By the time things petered out, almost 5,000 residents of Boston would die from the Spanish flu, as would 675,000 people across the land. That national tally is roughly equal to how many died in the Civil War, a war that took more American lives than all other wars the country has ever fought put together.
But Babe managed to beat it for the second time and would go on to be the most famous New York Yankee in history.
In his 2008 eulogy, Jenkinson spoke about Ruth’s life. How he had been born into relative poverty. That he had been poorly educated. How he had long battled a weight problem, and the many injuries suffered because of his aggressive style of play. He ended the eulogy this way: “We should recognize his greatest contribution to our common American heritage. It wasn’t the baseball records that he left us. It was his legacy of hope.”
There was no mention of the Spanish flu. But there could have been.
Amernic is author of “Babe Ruth: A Superstar’s Legacy.”
