They used to call Rose Williamson "Bush Woman" because she would hit a softball so far. A lot of the ball fields didn't have fences in those days, so the outfielders would have to chase it out into the bushes.
Thus, "Bush Woman."
I'm not even sure whether that story is true. Don't really need to know.
When you hear a bunch of the former Fresno Rockets are getting together, you just show up and shut up and soak it all in for a couple hours.
Not that you want to focus on this sort of thing of thing, but those ladies won't be around forever. They are walking history, a firsthand witness to distant time in Valley sports.
The Fresno Rockets were, without a doubt, one of the most successful sports franchises in this city's history. The team won Amateur Softball Association world championships in 1953, 1954 and 1957.
Rose Williamson was an infielder on those teams. She married Jack Williamson, who earned seven varsity letters in three sports at Fresno State in the late '40s. Jack once wrote a letter to ex-Fresno State basketball coach Ray Lopes, explaining how he could improve the team's free-throw shooting. Lopes never took him up on the offer.
Jack and Rose moved to Clovis a few years ago to be closer for Jack's doctor appointments. Prostate cancer finally took him a month ago.
The living members of the Fresno Rockets drove from all over California to spend an afternoon with her this week, because that's what they do. Some caught rides. When one of their old teammates is in need, there are no plans that can't be broken.
A lot of championship teams credit unselfish play and team spirit, say they weren't the most talented, just the most ego-less. But how many of those teams are still getting together 55 years later?
They played ball together in a time when opposing players hadn't heard of chewing sunflower seeds, and they're still friends in the days of Facebook. Kay Rich, who played shortstop on those teams, is a legend, one of the greatest players the sport has ever seen, not that she would admit it. She lives near Volcano on 21/2 acres in the tall trees and cool air. She doesn't have a computer.
"I'd much rather wait for this time when we can sit here and look each other in the face," she said to nodding heads, sitting in Rose's backyard. "You know, when you can hug each other hello and goodbye."
They talked for hours. Talked about how they used to wear two pairs of socks in case their old shoes split and the spikes came up into their feet. Talked about that game that went 31 innings, so long that afterward Yvonne Andersen, the center fielder, had to go reopen her drive-through and everyone came over for burgers.
The coach used to call her Andersen "Citation" because she was so fast it should have been illegal. They say she was quicker than a thrown ball, but she still can't outrun time.
"Can you believe we're all over 75 now?" Andersen said.
They talked about those road trips across the country in station wagons, and their celebration parades down Fulton in downtown Fresno, back when Fulton was the place to be.
They talked about the $3.50 per day they used to get for food. They talked about old injuries and cement-hard fields. "I've still got a bruise on my hip," said Terry Urrutia, who lives down in Palm Desert.
They talked about all those jobs Pat Richmond quit because work was bound to conflict with a road trip or a tournament. They called her "Thumper" because she ran heavy. She always found a new job when they got home.
They talked about their old team sponsors, the Hacienda Hotel and then Betsy Ross grape juice, which tasted like, well, let's just say they used to give a bottle away for returning a foul ball and it was not unusual for the ball retriever to say, "Eh. I'm OK."
They talked and talked, drank Cokes and beers and ate food fit for Thanksgiving. Betty Schlegel and Bernice Raymond talked about the time they didn't get to see the world-championship-clinching run because they went to the clubhouse to try to change the team's luck.
And for one of the first times in a month, Rose Williamson had a really good day. She read a letter Jack had written. She smiled a lot.
After her playing days, Rose would go on to coach softball at Merced High for a couple of years. She was the first woman inducted into the Merced County Hall of Fame. She once entered a regional Aunt Jemima Pancake Race. She won, of course, then went to Disneyland and won the national one, too.
Yes, it was a good day to laugh, to hug, to remember. It's important to stop and do that once in a while.
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