"It's Good to Be Alive," is both the title of Roy Campanella's book and the message he brings to this 1959 meeting of the Books and Authors Luncheon. A quiet, unassuming speaker, he confesses, "I don’t really know where to start. I have so many starts." Only a year-and-a-half earlier, Campanella, star catcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers, had damaged his spinal cord in a car accident.

Now a quadriplegic, he addresses a hushed audience, telling how difficult it is having to ask his six-year-old daughter for a glass of water or to try and eat while lying down. He frankly relates how devastated he still is, warning, "It's what you tell your own self" that determines if you will survive such an experience. He describes many people in the rehabilitation center as not wanting to live, being unwilling to go home because they feel they have no future there. He encourages youngsters who seem to have no hope, telling them, "It's just good to be alive, even if you can't do nothing!" Although he does talk about faith, and tells a moving story about reciting The Lord's Prayer during his first night in the hospital, Campanella does not offer any saccharine prescriptions for overcoming adversity. Rather, his message is one of plain-spoken strength. Surprisingly, he does not mention baseball until the end of his talk, crediting it for giving him a livelihood and teaching him how to be a gentleman. But his final thoughts, though perhaps bleak, are also inspiring. "It's not a real tough story. It's something that has happened in life." Finished, he is greeted with tumultuous applause.

Roy Campanella (1921-1993) had two careers, one as trail-blazing, color-barrier-breaking baseball superstar, and the other as one of the most visible and public handicapped people of his time. It's important to remember that only a generation before, FDR's use of a wheelchair was kept so quiet that people meeting him for the first time were shocked to learn the extent of the president's disability. But with the advent of television and the inherent newsworthiness of Campanella's accident, being a paraplegic or quadriplegic was no longer a condition no one spoke about. As the website Society for American Baseball Research recounts:

"After enduring years of therapy, Campanella regained some use of his arms. He was eventually able to feed himself, shake hands, and even sign autographs with the aid of a device strapped to his arm, though he remained dependent on his wheelchair for mobility. Through it all he managed to maintain the positive, upbeat attitude that was his trademark and became a universal symbol of courage. In 1969, the same year he was inducted into the Hall of Fame, he received the Bronze Medallion from the City of New York, the highest honor the city confers upon civilians, awarded for exceptional citizenship and outstanding achievement. Three years later his uniform number 39 was retired along with Robinson’s number 42 and Sandy Koufax’s 32. Though Campanella remained in New York, continuing to operate his liquor store and host a radio sports program called Campy’s Corner, he still remained a part of the Dodgers family. He worked in public relations, helped with scouting, and served as a special coach and adviser at the club’s Vero Beach spring-training facility."

But it is important not to overlook the first part of Campanella's story. Along with fellow Dodgers Jackie Robinson and Don Newcombe, he broke the color barrier in professional baseball. Despite the brevity of his major league career (he spent almost ten years in the Negro and Mexican leagues) he is generally considered to be one of the greatest catchers who ever played, winning the National League MVP Award three times. As the New York Times reported in its obituary: 

"Although his achievements as a power-hitting catcher were sometimes exceeded by those of his American League rival, Yogi Berra of the Yankees, Campanella at his height was the best catcher in baseball and one whose greatness seemed only partly reflected by his statistics. This view was once summed up by Ty Cobb, the legendary outfielder who was one of the five original members of the Hall of Fame and a man not known for hyperbole. "Campanella," he said, "will be remembered longer than any catcher in baseball history."

Unlike Robinson, Campanella, as we hear in this speech, was not by nature given to public pronouncements. This reportedly caused tension between the two, with Robinson criticizing Campanella's tendency to "get along" with the prevailing racist tendencies of the time rather than vocally oppose them. But his nature was just as crucial to the fascinating chemistry that enabled the Dodgers of that era to overcome baseball's shameful past. In the Los Angeles Times his friend Don Newcombe recalled:

'"Jack would blow his top, and Campy would calm him down, and then calm me down," said Newcombe. "We were all going through so much back then, we needed Campy as our stabilizing influence."

Audio courtesy of the NYC Municipal Archives WNYC Collection.

WNYC archives id: 150250
Municipal archives id: LT8956