HOMETOWN EXHIBITS

Bob Feller, born in Van Meter,
IA, in 1918, was one of base-
ball’s greatest pitchers. He died
in March of 2010. I do miss his
cantankerous commentary in
spring training news stories this year.

Bob Feller was known as “Rapid Robert” be-
cause of his blazing fastball (once clocked at 98.6
mph, outracing a speeding motorcycle).
Biographers sometimes attribute this overpowering
fast ball to hard work as a “farm boy” but I grew up on a farm, too, and some-
times had trouble getting my catcher’s pegs all the way to second base on two
hops.

Bob Feller began pitching for the Cleveland Indians in 1936 (at the age of 17)
and finished his career with a lifetime record of 266-162, 2581 strikeouts, 3
no-hitters, and election to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962---all accom-
plished while losing four years of playing time while serving in the Navy in
World War II.

On a baseball road trip (Destination: Wrigley Field, of course) my son Josh
and I once stopped in Van Meter to visit the Bob Feller Hometown Exhibit.
All kinds of memorabilia are on display: Bob’s little red wagon from child-
hood, old snapshots, glossy photos, awards of many kinds.

Two exhibits linger in my memory:

The only Feller baseball glove on display hadn’t belonged to Bob but to
his father Bill who played catch with Bob on hundreds of summer eve-
nings---a little pancake catcher’s mitt from the 1920s with a worn patch
that had been sewn into the pocket by the local harness-maker.

The first snapshot we saw was a team picture of Bob lined up with some
other local teenage ballplayers. The museum attendant told us that it had
probably been taken out at the Oakview ball field Bob’s father had built
on the farm for Bob and anyone else who wanted to play. To his last day,
Bob called Oakview “the original field of dreams.”

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day (Opening Day, too) are all coming up, times
when we all may be moved to construct hometown exhibits in our memories.
I will remember again how most of my dreams began at home and I will be
thankful.

Rev. Bill Steward