Two full days in Cooperstown? Sounded a bit long to Jeremiah, but the trip was his son-in-law’s idea, and Jeremiah was touched to be included, so he kept his trap shut. Tom insisted on taking his car, though Jeremiah’s had three inches more leg room and was better equipped to handle the potentially icy-snowy roads of upstate New York in late December. In the backseat, Jeremiah’s ten-year-old grandson, Ben, studied his baseball magazines and The Subway Series: The 2000 World Series, a Chanukah gift from his grandparents.
“You’ve never been?” Ben was giddy. They’d sprung the surprise trip on him last night at Jeremiah and Molly’s house after lighting the menorah and singing “I Have a Little Dreidel,” the only Chanukah song Ben and his sister knew.
Now, forty-five minutes into their two-hour drive westward, Jeremiah struggled to answer why he’d never visited the Baseball Hall of Fame. “It’s funny,” he said. “It’s not far, but it’s a place I’d only visit with someone who really loves baseball.”
“Don’t you love baseball?” Ben’s voice carried a note of panic.
“Of course!” Jeremiah gestured towards his son-in-law in the driver’s seat. “So does your dad. I meant someone like you. And my brother, who would have been your Great-Uncle Lenny. He was a real baseball nut, but he never made it to Cooperstown.” Lenny never made it to many places.
“He died in the war.”
In the beat after Ben’s statement, Jeremiah felt Tom’s eyes dart towards him. “That’s right, Ben,” he heard Tom say. “I never knew him, neither did...
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