“What I want to say I’ll say even more forcefully. If the Castro regime continues with its policy of aggression against Venezuela and [other countries] the moment will come when those governments will lead a joint action of their armed forces by air, sea, and land to make war on Fidel Castro, on his 300 thousand militias, and on his Soviet military advisors.” — Rómulo Betancourt, papers, 1972
While it is true that Rómulo Betancourt founded the Communist Party of Costa Rica in the 1930s, it is also true that he moderated his views over the years.
That allowed him to see through and size up Castro very quickly: he must have wondered why many in Venezuela’s army leadership seemingly did not see what he saw. Vice Admiral Wolfgang Larrazábal, the leader of the military coup against Marcos Pérez Jiménez in 1958 and the provisional government’s president, was at the very least sympathetic to Fidel Castro, even giving the effusive welcome speech on Castro’s arrival in 1959. Although he vehemently denied providing weapons to Castro’s Communist guerrillas, there is much evidence to the contrary, including a letter from Fidel thanking him for his “noble gesture.”
(Although seemingly counterintuitive, the Venezuelan army was mined with leftists enamored with Communism. For example, Wolfgang Larrazábal ran for president, with Communist support. He was defeated by Betancourt. And we should not forget that Hugo Chávez himself came to prominence leading two Communist-supported army coup attempts in 1992. We in the West all-too-often unthinkingly genuflect before military leaders. We should be more cautious.)
But Larrazábal had plenty of company: Fidel was feted by many Venezuelan luminaries, including future president, Rafael Caldera, perennial presidential candidates and political leaders, such as Jóvito Villalba, and intellectual elites such as Prieto Figueroa.
President Betancourt was the only major politician in Venezuela, and very likely in all of Latin America, who understood from the start the grave danger Castro posed to national, regional, and hemispheric stability. He recognized a “gangster” who sat before him in 1959. He readily understood that this man was willing to sink his own island nation just to retain power or destroy the United States — preferably both — by any means necessary. His willingness, nay, his craving to destroy became clear to the rest of the world a few short years later during the 1962 missile crisis. This suicidal disposition is a common trait with apocalyptic dictators, including Hitler.
Betancourt, almost alone, saw this.
In 1972 he led efforts to raise a legitimate multinational Latin American army to confront Castro’s tyranny. However, this objective died along with Betancourt’s failing health and subsequent death in 1981.
But his greatest legacy also became a danger to his country and region: he not only spurned Fidel Castro, he defeated him time and again. Castro backed deadly guerrilla and army uprisings in Venezuela, including Barcelona in 1961 and Carúpano and Puerto Cabello in 1962, not to mention the very real attempts to disrupt the 1963 elections. Betancourt’s energy and vigilance ensured the defeat of all such attempts, which inflicted great loss of life and property. And profoundly angered the Cuban dictator.
We must also credit his successor, President Raúl Leoni, who acted with energy in repulsing Castro’s attacks, including an armed landing in 1967 of Cubans and Venezuelans trained in Cuba. President Leoni’s 5-year term was also attacked by Communist activists and guerrillas including yet another military coup attempt in 1966, which was quickly squashed. That same year, Leoni felt compelled to order an army search for revolutionaries in Central University in Caracas. By the end of his term, however, most subversive activity had practically ceased.
Castro never gave up on his designs on Venezuela. After Betancourt, his obsession grew apace.
In the high councils of Havana, it must have grated when another politician who saw through Castro uttered the following words upon President Betancourt’s death:
“I speak for all Americans in expressing our heartfelt sadness at the death of Rómulo Betancourt. While he was first and foremost a Venezuelan patriot, Rómulo Betancourt was an especially close friend of the United States. During the 1950s he considered the United States a refuge while he was in exile, and we were proud to receive him. We are honored that this courageous man whose life was dedicated to the principles of liberty and justice spent his final days on our shores. We join the Venezuelan people and those who love freedom around the world in mourning his death.” — President Ronald Reagan, September, 1981
It is necessary to understand the above background if one is to understand the Cuba-Venezuela nexus and the quid pro quo between Castro, Chávez, and Maduro.
To be continued.
Large crowds welcoming Fidel Castro on his visit to Venezuela, January, 1959. He was invited by Vice-Admiral Wolfgang Larrazábal, leader of the military coup against Marcos Pérez Jiménez. The crowds were composed mostly of the recently legalized Communist Party in Venezuela (Betancourt later outlawed it), but also, it must be said, many in the AD and other parties.Father Luis Manuel Padilla holds a dying Venezuelan soldier shot down in Puerto Cabello, Venezuela, during an army uprising of leftist army personnel backed by Fidel Castro’s Cuba. It was put down by Betancourt’s army but not before 200 soldiers and 400 rebels were killed. Photo above won the Pulitzer Prize for Héctor Rondón Lovera in 1963. Castro with Venezuelan politicians, clockwise, beginning from upper left: Wolfgang Larrazábal, Betancourt, Carlos Andrés Pérez, and Hugo Chávez.
“All within the state, nothing outside the state, nothing against the state.” — Benito Mussolini
“Revolutions do not measure their success in terms of productivity but in terms of control.” — Diego G. Maldonado
The author of the second quote is a pseudonym for the researcher of a magisterial investigation into the relationship between Venezuela and Cuba. He remains anonymous for obvious reasons.
Venezuela’s first democratically elected president was Rómulo Betancourt, elected in 1958 and inaugurated in 1959.
In 1958, Venezuela had the 4th highest per capita GDP in the world. Its monetary policy was stable and property rights were respected and honored. To quote a Venezuelan writer: “In 1958, Venezuela became a democracy when the dictatorship was overthrown. With that came all the usual benefits of democracy such as freedom of the press, universal suffrage, and other civil rights. Unfortunately, these reforms came along with … destruction of our economic freedom.”
Fast forward to 2020 and we find Venezuela in 140th place in per capital GDP, poorer than any other Latin American country and than most other countries in the world. And that ranking is based on unreliable numbers. Judging from the massive emigration over the years, I suspect she ranks even lower.
Given the above, would you be surprised to know that Venezuela is Cuba’s principal source of income since the turn of this century?
Despite (or because of) its collapse of oil production, Venezuela in 2018 (latest available figures) purchased $440 Million of foreign crude and sent it to Cuba at a lower price (at a loss), with flexible credit conditions. According to documents obtained by Reuters, this oil was purchased “at a cost of $12 per barrel more than the price she charged Cuba despite her great need of currency to sustain her own economy and import food and medicine midst a great scarcity.”
And that has been the case since Chavez’ election.
Why? Is it all ideological? Did Chávez and now Maduro love Cuba so much that they were willing to sacrifice their own country for Cuba’s survival?
It’s a bit more complicated and yet more simple than that: it is all done for control, for power.
Shortly after Betancourt’s inauguration in early 1959, he welcomed Fidel Castro as his first foreign state visitor. From eye witness accounts, the meetings did not go well. Castro believed he had a kindred soul in Betancourt; after all the newly elected president had founded the Communist Party in Costa Rica during his exile there.
However, Betancourt was more moderate than Castro. He knew he had an army that would not look kindly on a civilian president who immediately and radically set about to thrust the country from 4th place GDP to 140th in less than a generation. Also, he rejected Castro’s request for free or heavily subsidized petroleum: “That oil is not mine to give,” Betancourt is reported to have said.
Castro was offended and angered. In the early 60s Cuba supported and fomented Communist guerrilla warfare in Venezuela, uprisings by leftist members of the Venezuelan army, and sabotage of oil pipelines and supplies warehouses. As a child I remember our family car being stopped many times by the National Guard for searches. That was a common sight throughout the country as Betancourt energetically sought to defeat his former allies. He also successfully backed the expulsion of Cuba from the Organization of American States.
Castro never forgave him and, with Chavez, he succeeded where he had failed with Betancourt.
If, as noted above, it was all done for control and power, what then was the quid pro quo between Chavez, Maduro, and Castro?
We will be writing more on this in future posts.
Fidel Castro visits Venezuela in early 1959. Relations went downhill from there. Not pictured is Castro’s rifle. Betancourt requested he leave it at the door. There is much more to these relationships than scarcity, emigration in the millions, extra-judicial executions in the thousands, and more.
“The Roman Empire is luxurious, but it is filled with misery. It is dying but it laughs — moritus et ridet.” — Salvian (5th century)
As noted elsewhere, the title of this blog, The Pull of The Land, is borrowed from Whittaker Chambers of whom I’ve posted only once (Ghosts), where I noted my intentions to post more of or from him. This is the second such post.
Chambers was considered a pessimist who believed that in leaving Communism he was leaving the winning side to join the losing side. One need not share his melancholy to nevertheless correspond with or comprehend it. After all, Salvian would be considered an extremist today and yet he was not far from the truth, as a mere few decades later would confirm.
Chambers quoted Salvian in his essay on St. Benedict in 1952 and went on to write:
“What, in fact, was the civilization of the West? If it was Christendom, why had it turned its back on half its roots and meanings and become cheerfully ignorant of those who had embodied them? If it was not Christendom, what was it? And what were those values that it claimed to assert against the forces of active evil that beset it in the greatest crisis of history since the fall of Rome? Did the failure of the Western World to know what it was lie at the root of its spiritual despondency, its intellectual confusion, its moral chaos, the dissolving bonds of faith and loyalty within itself, its swift political decline in barely four decades from hegemony of the world to a demoralized rump of Europe little larger than it had been in the crash of the Roman West, and an America still disputing the nature of the crisis, its gravity, whether it existed at all, or what to do about it?”
In another context, he wrote that the conflict of the age is not really Communism vs Capitalism, but rather God vs atheism or, more precisely, submission to God vs submission to man personified by the state. Possessing a strong sense of history, Chambers understood that there is nothing new under the sun and he saw that Rome was beset by three great alienations which are present with us today as well: “They are the alienation of the spirit of man from traditional authority; his alienation from the idea of traditional order; and a crippling alienation that he feels at the point where civilization has deprived him of the joy of simple productive labor.”
He pointed to the parallels between AD 410 and 1952 when “three hundred million Russians, Poles, Czechs, Slovaks, East Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, and all the Christian Balkans, would tell you” the same “if they could lift their voices through the night of the new Dark Ages that have fallen on them.”
The fall of the Iron Curtain brought great changes to the political geography since Chambers wrote the above, however, not to the basic conflict: God or man? Hence, Chambers’ point still stands. And in such a conflict, we know Who the Victor is, although we may not be able to see His triumph at the moment.
But here is a hint: a sign of divine judgment on a people or nation is evidenced by the anomaly of such having rulers who do not love or appreciate them. In effect, of being ruled by their enemies: “…. they that hate you shall reign over you…. (Lev. 26:17)”. That can refer to rulers who are foreign to the nation or rulers who are internal to the nation.
In Rome we saw an empire often ruled by emperors whose cruelty is unimaginable. Gaius Suetonius wrote The Twelve Caesars in AD 121 and the events he records in his work, still considered a reliable primary source, often make chilling reading. Although some historians believe he was sensational and biased, other contemporary works, including works of art, substantiate his biographies in many essential points. Rome’s cruelty to Christians is well known and attested to (although increasingly ignored in today’s age of savagery and unnatural affections). One thing to note about Rome’s persecutions is that cruelty to Christians will eventually devolve to cruelty to all peoples. And such was the case in Rome.
In Venezuela, we have seen the anomaly of a large, once-prosperous country possessing the largest oil reserves in the entire world actually inviting a small basket-case island nation to take over their basic industries, intelligence services, internal security, and much, much more (I will be posting more about this in the future). All this was knowingly commanded to be so by “local” rulers who knew exactly what they were doing. One can say much about such rulers, but one cannot say that they love their nation or her people.
Examples, not as blatant but just as destructive, can be multiplied throughout the Americas and Europe.
To hate God is to hate man, for God is man’s Creator and Redeemer.
Now, having written the above, I will also say that although I recognize we may be seeing some difficult times that will likely go beyond our lifetimes, I do not share Chambers’ pessimism.
For I know Who wins and such a victory will one day be plain for all to see and acknowledge.
Caligula (AD 12-AD 41), was emperor AD 37 – AD 41. A most cruel, but not the only cruel, emperor. Venezuelan strongman Hugo Chavez (1954-2013) embraces his Cuban counterpart, Fidel Castro (1926-2016, but last seen alive July 11, 2009 when Evo Morales said he had met with him). Under Chavez and continuing under current strongman, Nicolás Maduro, Cuba took operational charge over most strategic sectors of Venezuela including the armed forces, social programs, identification and security, and much more, even her petroleum industry. Whittaker Chambers (1901-1961)
The prior post (The 1964 World Series) alluded to how baseball was “watched” in the mining camp in Cuba in the early 20th century.
Few might know that the American camp had been completely burned by order of General Nelson A. Miles in 1898.
This destruction became a court case between the Bethlehem Steel Company, represented by her subsidiary, Juragua Iron Mines, and the United States Government. The case went all the way to the United States Supreme Court and was decided in 1909.
The Spanish American War was one of the more momentous events in United States history. At the end of this conflict, the United States found itself with a far flung empire, albeit nothing approaching the extent or the depth of the British. Nonetheless, we now not only had protectorates in the Caribbean, we also had temporary sovereignty over the Philippines, comprised of some 7,000 islands in the Pacific. Granted: these were all temporary arrangements. However, whether pro or con, we would be less than honest if we did not admit that we as a country have not looked back since.
So, despite the war’s short duration, April to August, 1898, it was epoch-making.
In late June, American forces landed in Daiquirí and Siboney, towns situated about 2 miles apart on Cuba’s southern shores. The intent was to launch an attack on the major city of Santiago, about 14 miles east. The landing was not well executed as is suggested by a soldier’s journal:
“The horses and mules were jumped overboard from a half to a quarter mile off shore — depending upon the skipper’s digestion or his judgment — and then swam. Horses by the hundred were drowned.”
Some of the battles and campaigns were heroic, with gallantry shown on both sides.
For example, on July 1, the Americans attacked El Caney, on the outskirts of Santiago. Up to that battle, their opinion of Spanish gallantry and courage was not high, to put it charitably. They expected the Spaniards to hightail it off the hill and scamper into Santiago.
But they did not count on Spanish Brigadier General Joaquín Vara de Rey. His duty was to hold El Caney. He had no artillery, and was outnumbered 12:1. But with his 550 men, including 2 of his sons, he defended El Caney for 10 hours against the U. S. Army of 12,000 men who were far better armed. The battle raged on even after Vara de Rey was mortally wounded. His sons were already dead. The fighting was not over until 5:00 P.M. The Spanish force retreated only when it had been reduced to 84 men.
This battle proved that if properly led, the Spanish were no pushovers. Vara de Rey achieved his objective: he kept the Americans from taking Santiago, at least in his lifetime. The U. S. troops were so impressed that they buried Vara de Rey with full military honors. Spain awarded him posthumously her highest honor, the Laureate Cross of Saint Ferdinand.
But our focus today is not on the history of the war itself, but rather on one of its events which directly related to the Bethlehem Steel Company.
To better understand the event and its sequel, we need to review, briefly, one of earth’s more frightening plagues.
Yellow fever was one of the world’s great tropical endemics. For centuries it was not known why it was prevalent in the tropical but not in the north or south temperate zones, although it sometimes flared in some of those areas as well.
As was learned in the 20th century, yellow fever is caused by a flavivirus, which infects humans, monkeys, and some other small mammals. The virus is transmitted from animals to humans and among humans by several species of mosquitoes. The course of the disease is frightening: sudden fever, headache, backache, nausea, vomiting, and death — in up to 20% of the cases. The liver is attacked resulting in jaundice which causes the skin and eyes to appear yellow.
Although there have not been any vast outbreaks as had been seen in the 19th and earlier centuries, several areas in the late 20th century did experience yellow fever bouts, mostly due to carelessness in mosquito control, especially in areas with large monkey populations, which act as “vast natural reservoirs” holding the virus.
But none of this was known at the outbreak of the Spanish American War, although Americans were well aware of the devastation caused by the fever. In the 1790’s the fever shut down the federal government in Philadelphia, the country’s capital at the time. Nearly 10% of the city’s population died.
That would be the equivalent of 150,000 people in today’s Philadelphia.
The deadliest outbreak hit the country in 1878, killing up to 20,000 Americans in the lower Mississippi Valley, including major cities like St. Louis, Memphis, and New Orleans. Memphis lost about 5,000 people out of a population of 48,000, or over 10% of its inhabitants.
That would be the equivalent of about 65,000 deaths in Memphis today.
For perspective, that’s twice the number of COVID deaths in the state of New York, the state with the highest number of such deaths, most of which were elderly with comorbidities or in nursing homes. Yellow fever attacks and kills all ages, with or without comorbidities.
As a side note: until very recently, the traditional definitions of endemic, pandemic, and epidemic, included enormous numbers of, or widespread, “deaths”. That has been removed from the more recent definitions. Now, a disease can be called a pandemic merely if many people are “affected”, however that may be defined. I am sure the reader has noticed that, with the current virus, where the world shut down based on frightening estimates of millions and millions of deaths, including 2.2 million deaths in the United States alone, we are now all focused on “cases“. We now seem to be in a “casedemic” as opposed to a pandemic.
But back to our story.
No one could explain the cause of yellow fever or how it spread.
By the time Walter Reed came on the medical scene, most medical researchers believed yellow fever was caused by bacteria in fomites, or objects that are likely to carry infection, in particular things which may have been soiled with human blood and/or excrement. But despite decades of research, no evidence supported this theory. Some thought the fever resulted from drinking river water. However, Reed disproved this hypothesis by demonstrating that enlisted men and civilians near the Potomac River did not contract the fever when they drank the water.
However, he did note that men who had a habit of walking through swampy trails at night did get infected, while those who did not take those walks escaped the disease.
About the time of the war, Reed had been reading the papers of the distinguished Cuban physician, Carlos Finlay, written some 20 years earlier. Dr. Finlay had theorized the transmission of yellow fever by insect bite, but had been unable to prove his hypothesis. He was roundly ridiculed by all the right people. But Reed was intrigued. He travelled to Cuba at the end of the war, in 1898, commissioned to study diseases in the U. S. Army encampments during the war, typhoid fever in particular. He and his colleagues proved that contact with fecal matter and food or drink contaminated by flies caused that epidemic. The disease was quickly controlled by the implementation of sanitary measures.
In 1900, he returned to Cuba to examine tropical diseases, including yellow fever. It was during this assignment that he and his colleagues proved and confirmed the transmission by mosquitoes. This was done using volunteers who were fully informed of the risks. One of the primary researchers, Dr. Jesse William Lazear, infected himself purposefully and did not survive. The isolation camp set up to continue the research was named Camp Lazear.
The confirmation of Dr. Finlay’s theory was a great advancement in medicine and towards the prevention of yellow fever around the world, saving thousands of lives every year. A few years later, from 1903 onwards, this knowledge served to greatly reduce the incidence of yellow fever in Panama during the American construction of the canal. Prior to this, about 10% of the workforce had died each year from malaria and yellow fever. And a quarter century earlier, the French had resigned from building it, having lost thousands of lives due to mosquito-borne illnesses.
True to form, the Washington Post ridiculed Reed’s presentation of his findings thusly in 1900:
“Of all the silly and nonsensical rigmarole about yellow fever that has yet found its way into print — and there has been enough of it to load a fleet — the silliest beyond compare is to be found in the arguments and theories engendered by the mosquito hypothesis.”
The Post mocked that which differed from the reigning Zeitgeist. At least they reported it.
Reed was nevertheless allowed to keep pressing his case and eventually prevailed. Although he received much of the credit, he was always up front and vocal in crediting Carlos Finlay with the discovery of the vector. Reed often cited Finlay’s papers in his own articles and speeches and his personal correspondence.
In November, 1902, Reed’s appendix ruptured. He died on November 22 of that year at age 51.
Now, with that background, we return to Siboney and Daiquirí in July, 1898, a mere two years before Reed’s work. American soldiers were succumbing to yellow fever. The army’s public health expert determined that the source of the fever was in “the buildings occupied as hospitals, dwellings, and offices in Siboney.”
The Cuban physicians who were assisting the Americans were adamant that the source was not in the buildings. But the Americans would not accept that assurance even though it came from people on the ground who had dealt with this disease far longer than they.
It was at this point that General Miles made his fateful decree: the destruction of the town of Siboney. “In thus destroying this dirty little town, we were, at least, sure of limiting the number of new cases about us ….” The buildings were burned or otherwise destroyed on the 12th of July, including property belonging to the American company, Juragua Iron Mines.
Of course, deaths did not decrease but rather increased as the fever continued to develop rapidly and overwhelm the medical resources.
Juragua sued the United States government for damages in the form of the cost of rebuilding their destroyed property.
In 1909, the United States Supreme Court ruled against the company because Cuba was technically the enemy, regardless of the fact that many Cubans fought alongside the Americans, not to mention that Juragua was an American company and their buildings, occupied by Americans. They were deemed to be enemies as well given that they were in enemy territory: “…. all persons residing in Cuba … were to be deemed enemies … including citizens of the United States there … doing business.”
Citing another case from 1887, the court declared, in a statement that would have appalled Patrick Henry, “The safety of the state in such cases overrides all consideration of private loss.” We had come a long way from 1776.
This ruling overruled the fact that the actions by the United States Army, obeying the order by General Miles, did not reduce the yellow fever decimating its forces. In fact, with eerily familiar language, the ruling stated that this was done “…. for the purpose of protecting health and lives ….” and “…. deemed necessary by the officers in command … to protect the health … and to prevent the spread of disease ….”
It did no such thing, of course. In reading the ruling, it becomes clear that the government, at least in this case, will not admit wrong, even in 1909, years after the discovery of the true vector of that epidemic. Even with testimony noting that the local physicians insisted this was not necessary nor would it work. And they were proved right.
So if other doctors disagree with the “correct” doctors, the other doctors must be considered wrong, even though they are right.
Some things never change.
My paternal grandfather, Max Albert Barnes, in Santiago, Cuba, circa 1898. Americans and their horses arrive in Siboney in June 1898. Hundreds of mules and horses drowned. Americans land at Daiquirí, where my father was born 19 years later. Daiquirí is about 3 miles from Siboney. The Americans quickly achieved control over the entire Daiquirí and Siboney area. Burning of Siboney Walter Reed circa 1900. Carlos Finlay, Cuban Medical Doctor credited for theorizing the transmission of Yellow Fever by insect bite. This was proved 20 years later by Walter Reed who always gave credit to Finlay. Named for Dr. Jesse William Lazear who died in becoming “Guinea Pig #!” for testing the theory of mosquito transmission. Staff housing. These and other office and mining buildings were rebuilt, at company cost, after the burning of Siboney Juragua Iron Mines buildings near mines, Daiquirí, Cuba Juragua Iron Mines offices, circa 1914 Juragua Iron Mines, recreation club (left). This is where my father and his friends would come to “watch” baseball games on the manual scoreboard as told in the prior post (World Series 1964) Juragua Iron Mines hospital, 1914
In my earlier post “Fernando, Sears, The Yankees, and The Beatles” (here) I told of Fernando’s being a Yankees’ fan as a kid and how he and his childhood friends would run to Sears in Coral Gables to see the prior night’s baseball scores and stats. He was also a Beatles fan and would run to Sears to see where the group’s songs were on the Hit Parade.
Thinking about Fernando, led me to my childhood friend, Anne. In my prior post (here), I told of her enthusiasm for The Beatles in 1964. At the club one day that summer, she had rushed me to the shortwave radio to listen to them.
In stream of consciousness fashion, thinking about Fernando and Anne, reminded me about the shortwave radio which reminded me of my father, who would tell us about his own childhood in Cuba where he and his friends would spend hours in the mining camp club during the baseball season to see the scoreboard of the Yankees’ games. The bartender would receive information by telegraph at the end of each inning and would walk to the board and chalk in the runs for the inning. The kids would whoop and holler whenever he’d chalk in a Yankees’ run, and groan with loud disappointment and exasperation when he’d chalk in a run for the opposing team.
With no radio, and certainly no TV, that is how they “watched” baseball in his childhood in Cuba.
By the time of my childhood, mining clubs had shortwave radios which broadcast the ball games. And, in 1964, the Big One was that year’s World Series.
The radio and also the television play by play was shared between Joe Garagiola and Phil Rizzuto in New York and Curt Gowdy and Harry Caray in St. Louis. However, in El Pao, we heard the play by play in Spanish and, unfortunately, I do not know who did so nor have I been able find it out. If a reader knows, I would very much appreciate hearing from you.
I do remember it was very colorful. One of the most memorable lines was in Game 7, when Tom Tresh came up to bat and for some reason decided to swing at a very high pitch. The Spanish broadcaster yelled out, “Estaba tumbando piñata!” [He was striking a piñata!]. The image that expression evoked is still fresh in my mind today, over 50 years later.
There were many great names of the baseball pantheon in that series: Yogi Berra, Curt Floyd, Roger Maris, Lou Brock, Mickey Mantle and more. Lesser names, but nonetheless memorable, included MVP brothers on opposing teams: Ken and Clete Boyer, for the Cardinals and Yankees, respectively.
In the case of Mickey Mantle, this turned out to be his last World Series. By the end of it, he had played in 12, of which the Yankees had won 7.
In that year, Mantle capped his World Series career with a performance for the record books, including a Game Three, bottom of the ninth, game-winning walk-off home run. The fifth in World Series history at the time and the only one in Mantle’s storied career. It was a Mickey Mantle home run: a low pitch, met by the “Mantle turn”, driven deep, towering and majestic, into right field, well into the third deck of Yankee Stadium. The game was won with one swing of his bat. He ended the series with a .333 average, three home runs, and eight RBIs.
Mantle is still in the record books with the second most at bats — 230 (second only to his teammate, Yogi Berra, with 259), the most base on balls — 43 (Babe Ruth is second, with 33), most extra base hits — 26 (no one comes close), second most hits — 59 (second to his teammate, Yogi Berra with 71), second most World Series games — 65 (second to his teammate, Yogi Berra, with 75), and most home runs in World Series history — 18 (followed by Babe Ruth, with 15). He is highest or second highest in runs scored, RBI’s, and total bases. The only switch hitter to have won the Triple Crown, Mantle’s is a truly great record.
But by the 1964 series, Mickey Mantle was injury-plagued. The St. Louis Cardinals knew it and they strategically decided to run against him, stretching singles into doubles and doubles into triples or home runs.
Another performance for the ages was Lou Brock’s. In what turned out to have been the best trade in Cardinals history, and the worst in Cubs history, Brock was traded by the Cubs to the Cardinals in 1964. That awakened the then fading Cardinals and spurred them on to overtake the Phillies and win the National League pennant. He was one of the best hitters and base stealers in baseball history. And, much to my chagrin, he displayed his hitting prowess with painful effectiveness in the 1964 World Series. Painful to me, that is!
Lou Brock played in three World Series and his adjusted OPS (“On Base Slugging” score) for the World Series was fourth best of all time, just behind Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Reggie Jackson (“Mr. October”). In other words, although Brock was a Hall of Famer for his overall performance, he really turned on the juice in the World Series. For comparison, Mickey Mantle is not in the OPS stats for World Series play, but is in 7th place in all-time adjusted OPS career leaders, whereas Brock is not in the top twenty.
But what a World Series performer! A World Series batting average of .391, with multi hits in 12 of his 21 World Series games, including two hits in Game 7 of the 1964 Series. He is tied, with Mickey Mantle and Eddie Collins, for 11th most all-time series multi hits games. Incredibly, Brock is tied with Eddie Collins for most stolen bases in World Series history: 14. But he did not attempt to steal a base in the 1964 Series! He stole 7 bases in 1967 and 7 more in 1968. No one else has stolen 7 bases in a World Series. As for 1964, Brock let Tim McCarver and Mike Shannon do the stealing. That was enough to defeat my team.
Nevertheless, to me, the most memorable players (besides Mickey Mantle, Lou Brock, and Tresh’s Piñata swing, that is) were Whitey Ford and Bob Gibson.
In the case of Whitey Ford, I couldn’t figure out or understand why he only played in Game One, and lost. It was many years later that I realized that he had been playing that whole season in great pain. But I did not know that nor did I think of asking my father about it. Whitey Ford was considered the archetypical Yankee: clean cut, decent, fair. Deceptively fair, that is. Meaning that just because he was fair, that did not mean he’d let you hit his pitches.
His baseball career spanned 16 years, all with the New York Yankees. He is tied for first place for starting pitchers with the most World Series titles (6), is the all-time leader in World Series starts (22), innings pitched (146), strikeouts (94) and wins (10). In 1960 he threw 283 innings without allowing a single stolen base. Still a record.
In 1961, he won both the Cy Young and the MVP awards. The Cy Young award was introduced in 1956; many baseball connoisseurs believe he would have won easily in earlier seasons, making him a multiple Cy Young winner. But to us kids, he just seemed like an all-around, likable, nice guy. A nice guy who did not finish last. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1974 with a career ERA of 2.745, in the top 100 of all time. He is the 4th winningest pitcher of all time, with a winning percentage of .6901. Ford demonstrates that a pitcher can be very successful even without a powerful fastball. The 1964 World Series was to have been his last.
And he remained unseen after Game One. As a kid, that bothered and saddened me to no end. I rooted for him until injuries finally had their way, forcing his retirement three years later, in 1967.
And then there was Bob Gibson. He pitched three games in that series: 8 innings in Game 2, which he lost against Mel Stottlemyer, 10 innings in Game 5 where he remained on the mound till the very end, picking up the win, and all 9 innings of Game 7, when I kept wishing he’d be too tired to pitch that day.
This man was a machine and even over the radio, he provoked fear. Which helps explain his being in thirteenth place with the most shutouts in baseball history. He had a 17-year career, all with the St. Louis Cardinals. A two-time World Series champion and two-time Cy Young Award winner, Bob Gibson was a fierce competitor on that mound, yet a kind, approachable individual when off the field. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1981, his first year of eligibility.
I remember watching him pitch against the Boston Red Sox in 1967. I wanted the Sox to win because they were in the American League, which was the closest I could get to the then perpetually slumping Yankees. But I could not help but admire that powerful pitcher with the opposite side “kick” to his pitch. And there he was again, on the mound, in the last inning of the last game, picking up yet another seventh game win. He was something to behold.
Between them, they won 17 World Series games. Ford won a record-setting 10 games, but lost 8; Gibson won 7, and lost 2. Ford’s World Series ERA was 2.71 to Gibson’s 1.89. Ford’s ERA was 1.98 before his injury-plagued 1964 performance. His 10 games won record still stands. Gibson’s is in second place, tied with two other pitchers.
That year, 1964, marked the end of the Yankee dynasty. They would not play in another series till 1976, and that team was a shadow of their days of glory, in my opinion. They’ve not been the same since.
The Cardinals went on to play in the 1967 and the 1968 World Series, with Gibson pitching and Brock stealing in both. They won in 1967 on the 7th game against the Boston Red Sox and lost in 1968 on the 7th game against the Detroit Tigers. Both were exciting series, which I was able to see on television in Miami, Florida. But, to me, neither came close to the exhilarating thrill of the 1964 event.
Mickey Mantle passed away on August 13, 1995. He had returned to his childhood faith, expressing genuine repentance for his years of hard drinking and hard living. He considered himself to be a “reverse role-model”: “Don’t be like me,” he said. Whitey Ford was one of his pallbearers.
Lou Brock passed away on September 6, 2020. Roughly a month later, both Bob Gibson and Whitey Ford died on October 2 and October 8, respectively.
At the time of his death, Whitey Ford (91) was the second oldest living member of Baseball’s Hall of Fame.
I guess I’ll always remember the World Series of 1964.
My father did not have pictures of the scoreboard from his Cuba mining camp club. But the above is a photo from a pool hall scoreboard from my father’s era (early 20th century). The kids would sit around, waiting and anticipating someone to come up and chalk in the results of each inning. With no radio and certainly no TV, that is how they watched baseball in his area of Cuba. View of staff cottages in mining camp in Cuba, circa 1916, a year before my father’s birth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPWUFDoxAiE
Mickey Mantle’s is at about the 2-minute mark Intimidating and effective. I used to not want him to show up because I just “knew” he’d win. But then I’d be mesmerized, along with millions of other baseball fans. Deceptively smooth. But his pitches were so easy to miss. Ford in his rookie year, being congratulated by Joe DiMaggio (left) and Gene Woodling for a six-hit shut out, vaulting the Yankees into first place. Lou Brock, known as “Stolen Base Specialist”. He had an infectious smile and his exuberance was contagious. Known as “The Perfect Baseball Player”, Mickey Mantle was a powerful switch hitter. His hard drinking and other shenanigans shortened his career for which he expressed genuine, heartfelt regret later in life. Although this post does not quote nor use this book as a source, I mention it because it is well regarded. I do have my quibbles with it, however. To me, it seemed Halberstam had an axe to grind, wanting to use this series as a sort of paradigm for racial issues in America. I found that unconvincing and distracting and, by the last page, I wished he had told us more about the series itself. Nevertheless, a good, easy read for baseball fans.
