I wrote about some of the minor league games played the day of the Apollo 11 moon landing in this post.
The first moon landing was on Sunday, July 20, 1969. Apollo 11’s lunar module touched down at 4:17 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time, and Neil Armstrong became the first human to set foot on the moon’s surface at 10:56 p.m.
I was 11 years old, and the quest to put humans on the moon had been going literally as long as I could remember. It finally happened that day, one of the greatest accomplishments of human history, and it was covered live on all the television networks.
I was glued to the TV that day and night. Who wouldn’t be?
Well, about 200,000 people decided to go to a major league baseball game that day and heard about the historic event at the ballpark.
There was a full schedule of major league games that Sunday, the last day before the All-Star break. Games at Pittsburgh and Cincinnati were rained out. Eight of the ten teams that hosted games the day of the moon landing, all but Atlanta and Seattle, exceeded their average attendance for the season, most of them by a considerable amount. Of course, a typical Sunday would see higher-than-season-average attendance, but a typical Sunday doesn’t also feature MEN LANDING ON THE MOON FOR THE FIRST TIME. ON LIVE TV.
|Game||Game time (EDT)||Attendance||Season average|
|Detroit at Cleveland (DH)||1:00||13,512||8,611|
|Cubs at Philadelphia (DH)||1:05||12,393||7,316|
|Mets at Montreal (DH)||1:35||27,356||16,842|
|San Diego at Atlanta||1:35||12,282||19,707|
|Washington at Yankees||2:00||32,933||15,940|
|Baltimore at Boston||2:00||31,174||25,113|
|Kansas City at White Sox (DH)||2:15||12,691||6,553|
|Los Angeles at San Francisco||4:00||32,560||11,805|
|Oakland at Anaheim (DH)||4:00||17,835||9,849|
|Minnesota at Seattle||5:00||8,287||9,161|
The average attendance I’ve listed for the White Sox is the average for their games in Chicago; they played 11 home games in Milwaukee that year.
The lunar landing took place while eight of the day’s games were in progress. I’ve read at least one first-person newspaper account of every game. Here’s what happened. (I should point out Larry Granillo covered some of this material in a post he did on the 40th anniversary of the landing that was reposted on BaseballProspectus.com after Armstrong’s death in 2012.)
Cleveland: While the Indians exceeded their average attendance, the figure was a disappointment, as the Cleveland Plain Dealer’s Russell Schneider wrote the next day:
When the schedule was drawn up last winter, it seemed like yesterday would be the prime date of the summer for the Indians — a double header against the World Champion Tigers. But that was before (1) the Tribe’s collapse, (2) the Baltimore Orioles’ surge, (3) the moon landing and (4) heavy rains yesterday morning. Consequently, with many fans staying away to watch the astronauts on TV and because of the rain, instead of an anticipated 40,000 crowd, only 13,512 fans showed up…
Alas, Russ didn’t tell us how the news of the moon landing was broken to those who did show up, although he did manage to work the landing into his game story: “It was almost as difficult for the Indians to reach the plate as it was for Apollo 11 to reach the moon yesterday.” (Hey, the Indians scored seven runs in the two games…that doesn’t exactly sound like a 250,000-mile trip around the bases to me.)
I don’t have access to the Detroit newspapers or the Akron Beacon Journal, maybe one of their writers had details on how the landing was acknowledged during the game. If you can help, please let me know in the comments section below.
ADDED 7/22/15: Many thanks to SABR member Dennis VanLangren, who directed me to a game story in the Sandusky (Ohio) Register. Marc Katz reported Armstrong and Aldrin landed on the moon “five seconds” after Tony Horton struck out to end the first game of the doubleheader, although Katz did not report how the landing was announced to the crowd. He also said the Indians “listened to the space happening in the dressing room between games.”
ADDED 2/15/16: I’ve now found this account in the Detroit Free Press from George Cantor:
The ending of the exciting [doubleheader] opener was really a classic of suspense in Detroit. The end of the game, with Tony Horton batting and the bases loaded, coincided with the landing of the Lunar Module and all the radio stations cut away to record that bit of history.
It wasn’t until about 10 minutes later with the astronauts safely on the Moon that baseball fans learned that the Tigers had come through safely, too, by striking our Horton.
I still haven’t found an account of how the landing was observed at the ballpark.
Philadelphia: Bus Saidt tells the story in the next day’s Trenton (N.J.) Evening Times:
At 4:20 yesterday afternoon [this would be right after the Cubs batted in the top of the third in the second game of the doubleheader, according to a story in the Chicago Tribune], Phillies’ PA announcer Eddie Ferenz asked for the Connie Mack Stadium crowd’s attention, then informed one and all that the United States of America had landed a man on the moon.
Immediately, members of both the Chicago Cubs and Phillies lined up along the baselines, there was a moment of silent prayer for the continue safety of our gallant astronauts and for the further success of their mission.
Then the crowd let out a yell and joined in the singing of “God Bless America” with Kate Smith.
Of course the record didn’t play properly, the record playing-system sounded like you would expect of one which first was used right after Tom Edison invented the phonograph, but there was no disguising the genuine emotion generated by the historic moment.
It was the best play the Phillies made all day. [The Phils were swept in the doubleheader, scoring just one run in the process.]
Almost five months later, the Philadelphia Flyers of the National Hockey League used Kate Smith’s recording of “God Bless America” in place of “The Star-Spangled Banner” before a game, beginning a longtime tradition.
An Associated Press photo taken during the celebration appeared in a number of newspapers the next day; this was in the Omaha World-Herald (note the cutline incorrectly places the ceremony between games of the doubleheader):
Montreal: The Mets and Expos had finished the first game of the doubleheader before Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon but took an extra-long break between games, pausing from 3:55 until 4:30 p.m. Eastern time so fans could listen to broadcast coverage of the landing over the public address system.
Atlanta: The brief item at left in the Atlanta Constitution says the game was “halted momentarily in the seventh inning” to observe the landing (it doesn’t say who was at bat or even which half of the inning it was). Wayne Minshew reports the crowd “was asked to say a silent prayer for the astronauts who manned Apollo 11. Organist Bob Fountain played ‘God Bless America’ following the silent prayer, then the game was resumed.”
New York: Arming thousands of prepubescent boys with clubs may not sound like a great idea in the 21st Century, but in the 1960s it was good clean fun. And it had a name: Bat Day, which was annually one of the most popular promotions at Yankee Stadium (Hard Liquor and Handgun Night had not yet been invented). As a result the Yankees had a sizable crowd on hand for their game against the Washington Senators, including 17,000 youngsters with bats. (By the way, there was an actual academic research paper that found the Yankees’ 1990 Bat Day “did not increase the incidence of bat-related trauma in the Bronx and northern Manhattan.”)
The moon landing took place in the top of the eighth inning, and Leonard Koppett described what happened next in the next day’s New York Times:
Ken McMullen, the Washington third baseman, was batting against Jack Aker, with men on first and third and nobody out. The count on him had just gone to one ball, two strikes.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please,” came the voice of Bob Shepard, the public address announcer.
The umpires, according to prior arrangements, waved their arms and stopped play.
“You will be happy to know,” Shepard continued, “that the Apollo 11 has landed safely…”
And a tremendous cheer drowned out the words “on the moon.”
The cheering continued for about 45 seconds. On the scoreboard, the message section read “They’re on the moon.” People stood. They waved the bats back and forth. Shepard kept talking, but his words could not be made out through the din.
On the field, the players seemed confused, or impatient. Most did not turn toward the scoreboard. Finally, the announcer could be understood, and he asked the crowd for a moment of silent prayer for the safe return of the astronauts.
The crowd stilled. After a few seconds of silence, a recording of “America the Beautiful,” sung by a chorus, blared through the loudspeakers. At the end of the song, another mighty cheer arose, just like the one that usually greets the completion of the National Anthem before a game.
The game resumed at 4:21 P.M.
The Times also included a photo taken when the landing was announced:
ADDED 7/10/17: Hey, it turns out there’s video with audio of Shepard announcing the landing!
Boston: Jack Clary had detailed reporting of the event in the next day’s Boston Herald-Traveler. It started with the pregame playing of “The Star-Spangled Banner”:
The crowd stood for a couple of moments of silent prayer before the game before an all-out effort in singing the National Anthem. “I even sang I was so proud,” [Reggie] Smith said, “and I generally just listen.”
Reggie Smith…had just ended the Red Sox half of the seventh inning by forcing Carl Yastrzemski at second base when Mission Control in Houston heard from the moon: “This is base Tranquility. The Eagle has landed.” [Of course, what Neil Armstrong actually said was, “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”]
Two minutes later, public address announcer Sherm Feller told the Fenway Park customers and they began an ovation that lasted 57 seconds. The huge throng stood for the last 35 seconds of that salute while organist John Kiley played a nameless tune — “just something dramatic to fit the occasion.”
…Portable radios were in evidence throughout the afternoon and even before the landing was announced over the PA system, a great murmur had begun to swell in the grandstands.
“I didn’t think they were cheering my force out,” Smith said with a grin after the game.
Clary then put the events of the bottom of the seventh inning on the same timeline as the descent to the moon.
[Syd] O’Brien led off the seventh and Houston’s Mission Control reported the Lunar Module 920 feet above the moon’s surface….Aldrin and Armstrong flew past their landing site in a “football field-like crater” and were just 220 feet away as [Mike Andrews] lashed a single to left….Man was just 100 feet away from the first landing on the moon when Yaz forced Andrews…Reggie stepped to the plate as the Eagle began its final few feet of descent.
For Reggie Smith, the moon landing had extra significance, as described in a Herald-Traveler sidebar to the game story:
His brother Lonny worked at MIT as a bacteriologist on that phase of the Apollo program and now has returned to California where he is engaged on research in rocket fuels.
One of the Red Sox center fielder’s best friends, Willard Barnes, also worked at MIT on the lunar orbit phase as part of a North American Rockwell team that was acutely engaged in the computer phase of the flight’s orbit around the moon.
I’d love to know a little more about Lonny (or Lonnie) Smith and Willard Barnes but have not been able to find anything. If you can provide any information, please leave it in the comments.
Chicago: Richard Dozer started his Chicago Tribune game story with the moon landing:
Comiskey Park’s exploding scoreboard must have given Walter Williams a fright when it belched sparks and noise to salute his infield single in the seventh inning of yesterday’s first game between the White Sox and Kansas City Royals.
Actually, it had been synchronized to the moment of the moon landing, and Walter, who seems to be in the right place at the right time, at least as often as any of his teammates, was merely doing his part to trigger a two-run rally against the Royals.
The White Sox went on to lose both games of the doubleheader. Dozer had no other details of how the moon landing was observed at the ballpark, but the Tribune did include this photo:
San Francisco: I’ve read four different accounts of this game (in the San Francisco Chronicle and Examiner and the Los Angeles Times and Herald-Examiner), none of which offer any real detail about how the news of the landing was announced. A story in the news section of the Examiner, about what was going on around the city at the time of the landing, included this: “Out at Candlestick Park a crowd of 32,500 watching the Giants-Dodgers game let out a huge roar when the moon landing was announced over the public address system.” The only mention of the landing in Bob Stevens’ game story in the Chronicle was that the crowd was “remarkably large in light of the Apollo 11 moon landing.” (It was the Giants’ largest crowd of the season to that point and would wind up being their second-largest of the year.) Bob Hunter, in his Herald-Examiner game story, noted Dodger third baseman Bill Sudakis walked to load the bases in the top of the first inning “at the exact moment when the astronauts landed.”
ADDED 11/20/15: Here’s a little more detail from a UPI story in the Palm Springs Desert Sun of July 21:
After walking Bill Sudakis to load the bases and Ted Sizemore at the plate, as the two clubs and 32,560 fans paused for a moment of silence. [sic] It was precisely 1:17.
[ADDED 12/16/15: I’ve obtained a copy of the recording of the Dodgers’ radio broadcast of this game, which seems to be the only recording of any of that day’s games that has survived. Jerry Doggett was calling the game in the first inning with Sudakis at bat:
Outside, ball four, the Dodgers have loaded them up. (brief pause) And as Sudakis walks to first base, the astronauts have landed on the moon. (brief pause) Boy, that’s quite a moment in our history. (Brief pause) [Giants manager] Clyde King now goes out to the mound to talk to [pitcher Gaylord] Perry, the second walk given up. The Dodgers have loaded the bases. (Public address system audible in the background) Here’s an announcement at Candlestick Park now, and we’re going to turn it to the p.a. system. (p.a. unintelligible, then “…has landed on the moon at 1:16 p.m.,” followed by cheering, then p.a. announcer resumes, “Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our game, now we ask you to rise…” followed by more unintelligible comments, and then Doggett comes back on) A moment of silence here at Candlestick Park in observance of the landing on the moon. (During the silence it sounds as if some of the NASA audio is playing on the p.a. system, then the p.a. announcer says, “Thank you,” the crowd cheers, then Doggett resumes) So a great moment in our world history, just accomplished by our three [sic] astronauts who have landed on the moon, two have landed of course, we’ll have further reports and details later on as we go through the afternoon. The pitch to [Ted] Sizemore…
Coincidence or not, the break for the landing observance changed Gaylord Perry’s fortunes on the mound. Prior to that, he had faced seven batters, allowing four hits, two walks and three runs. After that, he faced 28 batters, allowing three hits, no walks and no runs.]
This game is the most famous of the games that were played that day, because it featured Perry’s first major league home run, in his eighth season. (He would hit five more before retiring in 1983.) Associated Press baseball writer Hal Bock led his roundup of the day’s National League games with this:
The way Gaylord Perry swings a bat, he stands as much chance of hitting a home run as…oh…as a man does of walking on the moon.
Well, Perry and astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin made it together Sunday. The San Francisco right-hander tagged his first career homer and pitched the Giants to a 7-3 victory over Los Angeles, tightening up the National League’s West Division race while the astronauts took a moon stroll that tightened up the universe.
Here’s the headline the Greensboro (N.C.) Record put on Bock’s story:
And in the Baton Rouge (La.) State-Times:
But Bock’s is not the story that became famous. The one that did was told by Pat Frizzell in The Sporting News issue of August 9, 1969:
[Perry’s home run] recalled to Harry Jupiter, formerly of the San Francisco Examiner, that back in 1962 he watched Perry in batting practice one day and remarked to Alvin Dark, then Giant manager, that Gaylord might be a hitter.
“No way,” scoffed Dark. “We’ll have a man on the moon before he hits a home run.”
So, just 25 minutes after Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon, Gaylord whacked his first big league homer.
There’s no evidence Jupiter, or anyone else, had this anecdote in print before the moon landing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Both Perry and Dark told the story often over the years since.
Anaheim: Here’s the headline on the game story in the next day’s Los Angeles Times:
From Mitch Chortkoff’s story:
The Angels divided a doubleheader with the Oakland Athletics Sunday on an afternoon when baseball was minimized by the major news event of the day.
The opening game was 17 minutes old, and Oakland’s Rick Monday was at bat in the second inning when the contest was halted, and the following words were flashed on the message board in left field:
“We have landed on the moon.”
The Ball Day crowd of 17,835 cheered its approval, and then the game resumed.
…The second game ended five minutes before Apollo 11 astronauts began preparations for their unprecedented walk on the moon. In anticipation of the event, however, all but about 3,000 spectators departed the ballpark before the second game ended.
The A’s starting pitcher in the first game was 19-year-old Vida Blue, making his first appearance in the major leagues. He was the only player to debut in the big leagues the day of the moon landing.
Seattle: Play didn’t begin in Seattle until about 45 minutes after the moon landing. Hy Zimmerman doesn’t include a mention of what happened at the time of the landing in his Seattle Times game story, his only allusion to the events of the day being that the crowd of 8,287 — the smallest at the day’s major league games — was “presumably held to that number by the moon landing and pregame showers.” But an Associated Press roundup of what was happening at various places in America at the time of the landing included this:
…pregame ceremonies before an American League baseball game between the hometown Pilots and the Minnesota Twins were interrupted by an announcement of the moon landing. The fans cheered, stood up and sang “America the Beautiful.”
(That’s “America the Beautiful” 2, “God Bless America” 2 for those keeping score.)
Alas, Seattle pitcher Jim Bouton didn’t include any mention of the moon landing in his entry for the day in his published diary of the 1969 season, “Ball Four,” but Jim was preoccupied by the tough outing he had on the mound that day in the Pilots’ loss.
The Pilots actually lost two games that day. The previous night’s game was suspended in the 16th inning, tied 7-7, because of the American League’s 1 a.m. curfew and was resumed before Sunday’s scheduled game began. It turned out to be a big day for Twins pitcher Jim Perry, Gaylord’s older brother. Perry finished the suspended game, pitching two shutout innings and scoring the winning run after an 18th-inning double, then shut out the Pilots in the scheduled game to earn his second victory of the day.
The biggest crowd at any ballpark on the day of the first landing on the moon was not there to see a baseball game. The Los Angeles Herald-Examiner reported 81,032 people were at Dodger Stadium for an afternoon address by the president of the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Watchtower Society. He predicted Armageddon would take place in the mid-1970s, although church officials admitted they weren’t quite as sure of that as they had been when they forecast Armageddon would occur in 1925.
(My earlier post has information about some of the minor league games that were played that day and night, including a story involving baseball clown Max Patkin that made it into his autobiography and obituary.)