a trip I had to take without him

Earlier this month I was privileged to be able to spend a week in Durham, North Carolina, with my maternal uncle and his longtime girlfriend. They are wonderful people whom I did not get much of a chance to know until eight or so years ago, when they visited my mother during her terminal illness, came to her funeral and even a year later to the unveiling (a micro-funeral of sorts held on the first anniversary). That was the silver lining to that awful situation; learning how wonderful they are.

Among the many places in the culturally/intellectually elevated city of Durham (two universities, two others in the adjacent cities of Raleigh and Chapel Hill and the world-famous Research Triangle) we got to see were the new baseball park, the old one featured in one of Jim's favorite movies, Bull Durham (still in use by a college team) and the offices of Baseball America.

Though we showed up unannounced to his door, the editor treated us graciously, even though part of my mission was to cancel Jim's long-held subscription. At least I got to explain why, and to express in person that this had been his favorite publication for years (there had even been a brief discussion of his becoming a correspondent, though this never came to fruition).

I asked the editor, I am going to ask a couple of other baseball afficiandos that he knew, and I will ask all readers of this blog for suggestions on what to do with Jim's collection of baseball books, reference and otherwise. Rather than sending them to any general library, I am hoping for them to go to a specialized institution, or even an individual, who would truly value them as he did. I refuse to use the terms "dispose of" or "get rid of" his possessions. Jim's things all meant a lot to him, and of course they mean a lot to me, as well.