Burton A. Boxerman - Bill Dewitt, Sr.: Patriarch of a Baseball Family

My grandfather died in 1982 when I was in 8th grade. I was fortunate that I was able to spend enough time with him that I had a good sense of his personality and can recall many memories of times spent doing things with him. He was an optimistic, positive person who seemed to appreciate and truly enjoy his success in life, and he lit up when his grandkids came to visit. Whenever we left his company, he would take a $5 bill out of his pocket and say heretake this, everybody needs a little walkin around money and of course we would be on our way with a smile and a warm memory of Granddaddy.

I used to snoop around his home office as a little kid and was in awe of the things he kept as mementos of his lifetime in baseball. There were the framed press pins on the wall, symbols of all the World Series and All-Star Games he attended from the early 1930s through the early 1980s. There were the old chairs made out of actual bats from golden era players on the Browns and Cardinals. And the signed pictures on the walls spoke to the connection he had to some of the most influential figures in the history of the gameCommissioner Landis, Rogers Hornsby, Branch Rickey, Stan Musial, Mickey Mantle, Pete Rose, and on and on.

I wasnt old enough to have the wisdom to push him to tell the great stories that he knew, but I did have one experience that gave me a feel for how interesting his life had been. It was probably 1980, towards the end of his time as chairman of the White Sox, and he brought me up to Comiskey Park in Chicago to catch a game as a 12-year-old. We sat up in the press box, where he made the rounds and spoke to dozens of people who passed through, all of them with something to discuss about the team, baseball in general, or an old baseball story from long ago. I remember Bill Veeck came up to me, chomping on a cigar, with his wooden leg causing a knocking sound when he walked, and rubbed my head and said something about being a chip off the old block. Then, to my utter amazement, he flicked open an ash tray that was imbedded in the side of his wooden leg and disposed of the ashes from the cigar, as if there was nothing unusual about it. On the other end of the press box during the seventh inning stretch, everybody stood, watched and smiled as Harry Caray sang the national anthem to the crowd and waved his fish net to the beat of the song, as the entire stadium sang along while looking up at him and smiling. The stadium was old and rickety, and full of dilapidated charm.

On that day in Chicago, I learned that the world of baseball was full of interesting characters who brought the history of the game to life just by being around each other and telling stories. I know my grandfather would be proud that I have made a career in baseball as he did, and maintained a love of the game while working behind the scenes and experiencing some things worthy of a few pretty good stories myself.

Bill DeWitt III , the grandson of William O. DeWitt, Sr., grew up learning about baseball, thanks to his father and grandfather. He joined the St. Louis Cardinals in 1996 and has been president of the organization since 2008, overseeing all aspects of the business of the team and its affiliated entities.