--Jacques Barzun (1907-2012) French-born, American Historian
Recently I took some shots of one of our seniors, Cory Hilton (Johnson City, TN) -- it was the day before graduation. Toward the end of our shoot, we sat in the dugout and I asked him about baseball: what it meant to him, what his fondest memories were. He said he couldn't remember a time in his life when he didn't play baseball. He had played his last game that week. The conference tournament didn't go our way and as he walked off the field for the last time, he looked up, and there was his dad in the stands right above the dugout, standing and clapping. He said he lost it right then. And as he was telling me about it, I nearly did too. Such a poignant moment speaks volumes of their relationship. Am I wrong to think that that moment and that image of his father clapping will be the central image he returns to again and again in his life when the chips are down? That he'll play that scene over in his mind when he has kids of his own who play ball? There's something about baseball. It bridges the generations.