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About 50 years ago, I lived in Los Angeles, California. My father took care of my younger sister and me. We
played baseball every weekend. My sister and I loved baseball.
I knew that my father had a "hero. His name was Ken Smith. He played for a team in *St. Louis. Its name
was the Red Birds. My father said that Ken was the greatest player of all *major league baseball players at that
time.
I also became a big fan of Ken Smith, so I wanted to be like Ken Smith very much.
That summer was special because my father *took my sister and me to St. Louis. We went there and came
home by *plane. We were going to meet Ken Smith. I almost couldn't believe that. My father's best friend
had a big *company in St. Louis, and he knew some of the very important people of the Red Birds. He also knew
Ken Smith well.
We stayed at my grandmother's house in St. Louis, She said to me, "Jack, I have something special for you."
That was a ball with an *autograph by Smith. An *injured player of the Red Birds was in the hospital, and my
grandmother worked there. She told him my story, and he got Smith's autograph on the ball. She knew that
A
but she gave the ball to me. I was sorry for my father, but I was very happy. I liked Ken Smith more.
The next day was an exciting day for us. My father's friend helped us, and we could meet Ken Smith before the
game. I thought Smith would be kind and big, and I was right.
Then I showed him the ball from my grandmother. We talked about it. He asked me about the way to practice
baseball, and I talked to him *proudly. *In front of Ken, I felt that I needed to do so. I wanted to be a great
baseball player. He *understood.
That night we watched a night game of the Red Birds. During the game, I *held my ball, and looked at it many
times. A man talked to me. "New ball?" he asked. "Yes, with an autograph," I said and smiled. "Who?" he
asked. "Ken Smith," I said proudly. "Really? I don't believe you." "Here, look." "Wow! I'll get it for 20
*dollars right now!" "No, give my ball back to me, please," I said. "You've got a very special thing. Take good
care of it!" he said. I knew that the ball was a *treasure for me.
The next day, 3I felt it took a long time to get back to Los Angeles. I was excited and I told my friends about
my experience with Ken Smith in St. Louis. No one believed me, but I thought that I would never forget my
happy feelings then.
About 20 years later, my father died. Before the *funeral, I *remembered that he once *asked us to put his
*baseball cards and a *baseball in his *casket. I wanted to use my baseball with Ken's autograph for him. My
sister also liked my idea. The ball was with my father.
A few years later, my sister *got married. Before *wedding finished, my sister started a story.
She was a *flight attendant and *flew with the baseball players of Los Angeles Blue Sky and the manager Tom
Baylor. Then she told him the story of my old baseball. He understood her story very well. Baylor was a friend
of Ken Smith and *promised her to get another ball with Ken's autograph for me. Ken *was very impressed by
her story, and sent a baseball with his autograph to Baylor. The ball was then sent to my sister.
When she finished the story, I looked up and saw that she was holding a ball. "I have B
threw it to me. I remembered that summer and my grandmother.
I felt like a child again when I was going home.
she said and