Roy Campanella never complained. He battled adversity throughout his life and overcame every obstacle he faced. He didn’t eliminate all the misfortunes that the deck of life dealt him, but he played whatever hand he held magnificently. He once said, “There are two kinds of luck—good and bad—and every person should expect a little of each. I’ve had more than my share of the good, so when some of the other kind began coming my way, I couldn’t really moan about it.”
He was born in 1921 to parents, Ida, who was African American and John Campanella, the son of an Italian immigrant. Roy was the youngest of the four children born to the couple. He grew up in Philadelphia and attended integrated schools. Because of their mixed-race, Roy and his siblings endured taunting by fellow students of both races, referring to them as “half-breeds.”
Roy learned early that he was blessed with athletic talents and abilities. He used those talents to overcome his early exposure to prejudice. He was elected captain of every sport team he played on in high school. But baseball was his love and he left high school before graduating to pursue his passion professionally.
Because of his mixed race, Roy was prohibited from playing in the Major Leagues so in 1937 the 15-year-old began playing in the Negro Leagues for the Washington Ellie Giants. The team moved to Baltimore the following year and Roy became a star player on the team and remained with them until 1945.
Campanella moved into the Brooklyn Dodgers’ minor league system in 1946 as the Dodger organization began preparations to break the MLB color barrier with Jackie Robinson. His easy-going personality and strong work ethic were credited with his being able to move successfully between the races. Although Branch Rickey considered hiring Campanella to break baseball’s color barrier, Rickey ultimately decided upon Robinson.
For the 1946 season, Robinson was assigned to the Montreal Royals, the Dodgers’ affiliate in the Class AAA International League. On March 18, 1946, Campanella signed a contract to play for Danville Dodgers of the Illinois–Indiana–Iowa League. After the general manager of the Danville Dodgers reported that he did not feel the league was ready for racial integration, the organization sent Campanella and pitcher Don Newcombe to the Nashua Dodgers of the Class B New England League, where the Dodgers felt the climate would be more tolerant. The Nashua team thus became the first professional baseball team of the 20th century to field a racially integrated lineup in the United States.
Campanella’s 1946 season proceeded largely without racist incidents, and in one game Campanella assumed the managerial duties after manager Walter Alston was ejected. Campanella was the first African American to manage white players of an organized professional baseball team. Nashua was three runs down at the time Campanella took over. They came back to win, in part due to Campanella’s decision to use Newcombe as a pinch hitter during the seventh inning; Newcombe hit a game-tying two-run home run.
Jackie Robinson’s first season in the major leagues came in 1947, and Campanella began his MLB career with the Brooklyn Dodgers the following season, playing his first game on April 20, 1948. In later years, Robinson and his wife sometimes stayed with the Campanella family during some ballgames because adequate hotels for blacks could not be found in the city.
Campanella stayed at the Major League level and played for the Dodgers from July 1948 through 1957 as their regular catcher. He was selected to the All-Star Game every year from 1949 through 1956. With his 1949 All-Star selection, he was one of the first four African Americans so honored. In 1950 Campanella hit home runs in five straight games; the only other Dodgers to homer in five consecutive games are Shawn Green (2001), Matt Kemp (2010), Adrián González (2014–15), and Joc Pederson (2015).
Then on January 28, 1958, Campenella was injured in a car accident. He was left a quadriplegic, and doctors were not even certain that he would live. But Roy knew what it was like to face a tough opponent. He survived the initial crisis, then spent many grueling hours in rehabilitation, exercising his cripple body. “When you’re in a slump, you don’t feel sorry for yourself” he said. “That’s when you have to have faith, hope, and conviction that you can lick it.”
Roy Campanella accepted his fate and then he worked as hard as he could to improve it. He worked his way out of the hospital and back into the ballpark, this time as coach for the Dodgers. In 1959, the Dodgers, then playing their second season in Los Angeles, honored him by holding Roy Campenella Night. 93,000 fans came to pay respect to a man who would not give up, not complain, and who was not just a hall of fame catcher, but a noteworthy catcher of life.
Roy also said:
We’re a rugged breed, us quads, If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be around today. Yes, we’re a rugged breed; in many ways, we’ve been blessed with a savvy and spirit that isn’t given to everybody.
And let me say that this refusal of total or full acceptance of one’s disability all hooks up with one thing—faith, an almost divine faith.
Down in the reception room of the institute of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation, over on the East River at 400 East River Street in New York City, there is a bronze plaque that’s riveted to the wall. During the months of coming back to the Institute for treatment—two and three times a week—I rolled through that reception room many times, coming and going. But I never quite made the time to pull over to one side and read the words on that plaque that were written, it said by an unknown Confederate soldier. Then one afternoon, I did. I read it, and then I read it again. When I finished it the second time, I was near to bursting—not in despair, but with an inner glow that had me straining to grip the arms of wheelchair. I’d like to share it with you:
A Creed for Those Who Have Suffered
I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey…
I asked for health, that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things…
I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might be wise…
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing I asked for—but everything I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among men, richly blessed!
Have an Awe-full Weekend!
William “Bill” Bacque