Courage, vision of 2 men

In 1947, an astute baseball executive in the Brooklyn Dodgers organization married vision with audacity, thus changing American society for good and for better. Branch Rickey, recognizing a rare business and cultural opportunity, handpicked Jackie Robinson to be the first African-American baseball player to play in the major leagues.

Rickey personally selected Robinson based not only on the fleet second baseman’s athletic skills, but his outstanding qualities of character. The talented ballplayer understood and accepted Rickey’s directive that he not respond in kind to those who would oppose such bold change, that he ignore the taunts that would surely follow him to every major league ballpark.

Americans, black and white alike, regarded baseball’s radical move as the ultimate social experiment of its time. Robinson recognized, as a representative of an ethnic minority, that he would be held to a separate, higher standard of behavior in the face of intense public scrutiny.

Rickey knew full well that post-World War II American society reflected the racial division that had been hotly (and often fatally) contested since the Civil War era. The business manager and talent scout cautioned Robinson that there would be many dark days ahead for the player who dared to publicly break the color line.

For several torturous seasons Robinson endured spike wounds, jeers and catcalls on the field, private ridicule from white teammates on the road (who often told him he should be lugging their baggage to the whites-only hotel) and death threats directed at his entire family.

Throughout it all, the man who wore Dodger Blue No. 42 performed admirably, winning everything from baseball’s inaugural Rookie of the Year to its Most Valuable Player awards, proving, convincingly, that a black man could compete against his white counterparts.

But far more importantly, Jackie remained stoic in the face of such withering adversity. Not only did he successfully integrate the sport known as “America’s pastime,” but he attained folk-hero status, inspiring millions of people in all walks of life. According to one poll conducted in 1947, Robinson was the second most popular man in the country, behind Bing Crosby.

Robinson was not just a “credit to his race,” as described in the parlance of his day, but a shining example to human beings everywhere. Like Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. after him, Jackie Robinson was a person of color whose personal and public accomplishments transcended racial or ethnic heritage.

Fast forward 60 years. A man of African-American descent announces his candidacy for American president from the same state capitol steps where Abraham Lincoln launched his historic bid in 1860.

“Being African-American presupposes that you can’t reach out to other communities and be a part of other communities,” says Barack Obama, echoing the defiant example of Jackie Robinson, “but I don’t believe in those barriers.”

Dismissed as inexperienced by Washington insiders, elitist by rival presidential candidates and naive by both, Obama took his grass-roots campaign directly to the American people, live on TV, door-to-door in dozens of states and around the world online.

Running on a fresh approach, a vision of hope and change, a willingness to reach across partisan aisles, to negotiate with traditional enemies, to offer tax cuts to the beleaguered middle class, the Illinois senator has struck a chord deep in the heart of a republic sick to death of war, scandal and rising gas prices.

Besieged with scurrilous charges of nonpatriotism (for not sporting flag pins on his lapel), Muslim affiliations and anti-American ministers, Obama, like Robinson, has endured it all with grace, dignity and the fire of his convictions. Somehow he has managed to stay not just above the fray, but, remarkably, on point.

While Hillary Clinton has whipped her faithful backers into rabid, “never-say-die” support and John McCain has leveled charges of military incompetence at him, Barack Obama has continued to speak with a calm and reasoned voice. The high road has been all his.

Mr. Obama’s nomination is singularly historic. Sixty years after Jackie Robinson changed social and cultural norms while the whole world was watching, Obama’s refusal to be limited by outdated racist beliefs should offer hope for all Americans. Not for the reasons of traditional party affiliation, but for the vision and character of a person courageous enough to suffer for the sake of his belief in the power of possibility.

Branch Rickey is attributed with the famous quotation: “Luck is the residue of opportunity and design.” Barack Obama’s successful candidacy proves it’s true.

Keith Stover is a freelance writer and Red Sox fan. He lives in Bucksport.