lou gehrig | lou gehrig disease

lou gehrig - Today is my birthday, and it’s also the fifth anniversary of my father’s death at age 75. In June 1941, Lou Gehrig, the Yankee first baseman who had played in 2,130 consecutive games before being forced to retire due to a rare nervous system disorder now simply called Lou Gehrig’s disease, died. My father, then 11 years old, turned his tears to words, as he penned a poem he called “The Iron Horse” (Gehrig’s nickname).

Below I reprint his poem; it’s certainly not a classic of American literature, but it’s a classic homage from a boy to his idol (both from my father to Lou and from me to my father.)

The Iron Horse
by David Levy

Yes, the Iron Horse is dead,
But the stories of him still are read.
While he played at first-base,
There was no pennant race.
He played in game after game
That’s why he’s in the Hall of Fame.
Every fan just like you and you
Cheered on and on for Iron Horse Lou.
Yes, the greatest player that ever played
Is one of the greatest god ever made.

II

He was a poor boy who rose to riches
Every time he smacked that ball out came the stitches
Yes, he was a great star
He could hit that ball high and far
Then in the year of ‘39
Infantile Parralysis put him on the side line.
Fans, in the stands would yell and shout
There still is no doubt about,
The greatest player that ever played
Is one of the greatest god ever made.

Ditto for my dad.

Original page here lou gehrig

The book traces Buck’s life from a fatherless eleven-year-old boy, shining shoes to help support his family, through his seventeen seasons with the Homestead Grays, who won nine consecutive pennants. He and his legendary teammate Josh Gibson formed a power tandem that earned them the designation of the black Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.