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Yankees Editorial: My Week Finding Lou Gehrig

By Scott Alfano |
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Growing up a Yankee fan in the Bronx, I know a little bit about Yankees history. In particular, I know a lot about my favorite all-time Yankee Lou Gehrig. Everyone knows the big numbers – 2,130 straight games played, 493 home runs, 1,995 RBI, a career .340 batting average and a career .447 on base percentage. What everyone might not know is how incredibly shy and humble Gehrig was.

Next to Babe Ruth, everyone seemed humble. However, Gehrig seemed to never realize his own baseball prowess. A classic example is how Ruth forced Gehrig to ask for a raise after his obvious historic play. While Ruth went in to get a raise for the next season several times throughout his career, Gehrig was never sure that he did enough to warrant any more money from the team. He finally received his raise from $8,000 per season to $25,000 per season after 1927 when he hit .373 with 47 home runs and 173 RBI. He also hit 52 doubles and 18 triples that season to give him a .765 slugging and a 1.240 OPS. It is amazing how a man with these numbers can be so humble.

I now live in Orlando, Florida, but went home to visit family in New York City for Christmas. After living so close to so much Gehrig history for my entire childhood, I finally took the time to visit both Gehrig’s home and his final resting place. It turned my trip to see family into a journey I would never forget.

I took to Gehrig when I was young because I was a shy first baseman. No, I did not hit bombs all day or bring in everyone on base all the time. Actually, as the years went on I became a pitcher and played first base on my off days – the perks of being a lefty. However, I always played like Gehrig. I kept my head down and took nothing for granted.

Gehrig went to Columbia University and was a member of the Phi Delta Theta fraternity while there. Naturally, when I was in high school and started the process of looking for colleges to attend Columbia was on my list. Unfortunately, neither my grades nor my baseball skills were going to get me there. I actually attended a college showcase at Columbia where I proceeded to throw a changeup roughly 25 feet over the catcher. A bad pitch can happen to anyone, especially in the rain, but I was rattled and gave Columbia nothing to desire.

Ultimately I ended up at Union College outside Albany, New York. I did make the baseball team and pitched there for one season before my career ended with a major shoulder injury. More importantly, I joined the Phi Delta Theta fraternity chapter on campus. Thousands of men have joined Phi Delta Theta (over 250,000 actually) but knowing that Lou Gehrig and I were fraternity brothers made it seem that much more special.

The fraternity has done a lot for Lou Gehrig. They have named Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) the official cause for the fraternity to donate time and money to. Millions of dollars are given to research ALS every year from the fraternity and alumni brothers. Other prominent Phis include Neil Armstrong, Burt Reynolds, and Adam Silver.

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I grew up in Riverdale, New York, a suburb of the Bronx. It is a small area covering just over 2.7 square miles. Riverdale is where Lou Gehrig lived as well. I always knew this and somehow never went to find his house. It probably didn’t help that I started driving 6 months before I left for college. Nonetheless, I was finally going to see Gehrig’s house.

The internet is a hell of a tool. Within fifteen seconds I had his address and I was on my way: 5204 Delafield Avenue. I was visiting my old high school and when I typed in the address I was only 0.4 miles away. As I pulled up to the home on my left, I wasn’t sure it was the right address. This house looked to be the right age, but it had bright purple shutters on all the windows. Surely the new owners wouldn’t desecrate the Iron Horse’s home like this. Alas, when I got out of my car and walked up to the property there was a large sign stating this was 5204 Delafield Avenue. The new owners may have tarnished the outside of the home a little bit, but this was it. I was at Gehrig’s home.

I had to be careful. This is not a home turned into a museum. This is someone’s actual place of residence. I’m sure I looked a little weird, but I took a ton of pictures as I walked around the house. I wasn’t sure exactly where the property line started, but the look on my girlfriend’s face let me know that I was probably past it.

I was respectful, but I couldn’t believe that there was nothing commemorating Gehrig at the residence. With my girlfriend telling me to get back in the car and other people walking up and down the block, I was about ready to leave. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a small plaque on the corner of the house. I walked up to it and sure enough, it was in honor of Gehrig.

I snapped my pictures and got out of there. As I drove home I thought about Gehrig driving to and from Yankee stadium to this house just a little bit off the beaten path. It was an awesome moment and I’m glad that I finally went to see his house.

I thought that seeing Gehrig’s house was going to be the highlight of my trip until fellow writer and editor Billy Brost told me that Gehrig’s final resting place was not very far away from where I was. A day later I went to Valhalla, New York to see Gehrig’s grave and pay my respects.

I have not spent a lot of time in cemeteries. I have a very small family and I was very young when my grandparents died. I didn’t know what to expect when I was driving to Kensico Cemetery. I just knew that this would be a more serious experience than going to his house.

It took me longer than I thought to find his grave. There were sixty or seventy headstones in his section. Finally, I found his. It was all alone on part of a minor hill. I saw it from behind, but I knew it had to be his. As I walked around to the face of the headstone I was greeted by about a dozen baseballs. They were all on the ground, one saying, “Thank you for inspiring me.” I obviously was not alone in making this trip.

Like Gehrig himself, his headstone was simple. Half for him, half for his wife Eleanor. There was a compartment in the middle of the headstone for his ashes. I am not a religious man, but I spent a few minutes in silence dissecting Gehrig and everything he has meant to me over the years. What  was initially a trip back to the Bronx to visit family turned into an important journey with some great lasting memories. I’m very glad in how I spent my very limited time in the Bronx.

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