LUSCIOUS LUKE
By Justin Murphy

1965-1979: AFTER BASEBALL

“Even after he stopped playing, he would dream about baseball, and he’d be shaking, shaking shaking. I’d say, ‘Luke, what’s wrong?’ He’d say, ‘Nothin’, I was just runnin’.’ I could always tell when it was spring training because that’s where Luke’s dreams were.” –Virgil Easter

After returning to Cleveland, Luke immediately set to work again, though no longer in baseball. Former Negro Leaguer Frazier Robinson, in his autobiography, writes about having often gone to a cafe that Luke had opened in Chicago called The Majestic Blue Room. He recalls that “he had a lot of jazz acts at his club, and it was a pretty popular place in Cleveland.” He also took a full-time job polishing airplane parts for TRW. Though he worked the night shift, Luke soon gained the confidence of his co-workers and was named chief steward of the Aircraft Workers Alliance.

It was in his capacity as union steward that Easter, in typical selfless fashion, came to his tragic end. He often cashed paychecks for fellow employees who could not make it to the bank. On March 29, 1979, he was carrying a small handgun for self-protection, though at other times he procured a police escort. Easter stepped out of a Cleveland Trust Company branch in Euclid, Ohio at 9:00 AM, carrying a bag full of cash. His New York Times obituary from March 30, 1979 reports that he had $5,000 in the bag, while Cattau gives $45,000. In either case, he was accosted by two gunman in the parking lot at East 360th St. and Euclid Ave. One of them was a former TRW employee who knew about the arrangement Luke had with his co-workers. They demanded the money from him. When he refused, they shot him several times in the chest; the New York Times obituary says that it was “a sawed-off shotgun and a .38-caliber revolver”, while Cattau attributes it to a .357 Magnum. The gunmen were captured after a high-speed car chase, their pockets filled with the stolen cash. Luke was dead on arrival at the hospital.

On April 3, 1979, the baseball fans in Cleveland poured en masse into Mt. Sinai Baptist Chuch to pay their last respects to the legendary man. More than 4,000 people filed by the casket, and over 1,000 attended the funeral ceremony itself. Former teammates Bob Cain and Mike Garcia were pallbearers; ex-Indians Al Rosen and Bob Lemon, longtime Cleveland sportswriter Hal Lebovitz and Indians team president Gabe Paul were among those serving as honorary pallbearers. Following the service, Easter was interred at Highland Park Cemetery. Besides his wife Virgil, Luke’s survivors included six siblings, four of his own children (sons Terry Lee, Luke Jr. and Travis, daughter Nana Marleze Easter) and two children whom he and Virgil had adopted, Marla Nicholson and George Quinones. He also had three grandchildren.

Easter has been posthumously honored by many of the organizations to which he contributed as a player. He was a charter member of the Rochester Red Wings Hall of Fame in 1989 and also became a member of the Greater Buffalo Sports Hall of Fame in 1997. In Cleveland, a local ballpark was renamed in his honor, and a statue of him stands in front of it today. His wife Virgil became the first vice president of the Cleveland Baseball Federation, of which Luke had earlier been chairman. The most lasting impression of Luke Easter, however, lives in the minds of the countless fans who saw him club pitches far into the night, for whom he signed autographs, with whom he laughed, and whom he inspired with his infectious enthusiasm and unwavering kindness.

LUKE EASTER, THE MAN

"Luke was a great big, easy going, devil-may-care, jolly, hail fellow well met kind of guy who took a ribbing and dished it out". –Al Rosen

"You, Mr. Inspector, are face-to-face with the greatest home run hitter since Babe Ruth…there is no one alive who can hit a ball for distance with Luke Easter." –Buffalo teammate Joe Astroth, addressing an airport customs inspector in Havana

Nearly everyone who ever saw Luke Easter play has a story about an impossible home run that he hit. Many, such as his colossal shots in the Polo Grounds in New York, Municipal Stadium in Cleveland and Offerman Stadium in Buffalo, have become part and parcel of baseball mythology. Any attempt to recount Easter’s life, however, should place the most emphasis on the impressions he made upon the people who had the pleasure of meeting him, no matter how briefly. He was adored by teammates and fans in every city he played in, even as one of the first black players in the PCL, the major leagues and in the International League. His demeanor was always positive, and he refused to be discouraged by the racism he often encountered. Joseph Thomas Moore, in his biography of Larry Doby, reports that the two players often had different ideas on how to breach the color issue: “they were as different from each other as Doby and [Satchel] Paige had been. While Doby was totally serious on the field, Easter relaxed and enjoyed his new status…as a big leaguer”. Luke once told Doby, “Look, Larry, you fight just half the world and leave the other half to me”.

Away from the stadium, Luke was a partier and a gambler, a clotheshorse and a lover of fine food and cigars. Kevin Nelson has an apt description in The Story of California Baseball:

Everything about Easter was big—his home runs, his personality, his luxury Buick automobile. He liked for his teammate Artie Wilson to act as chauffeur and let him sit in the back seat so that when he was driving around town people would think a big shot was passing by. A woman who knew him (and there were more than a few of those) described his free-spending, party-loving personality as ‘flamboyant’.

Luke was a serious card-shark, quickly winning back large sums for teammates on the road when the need arose.He was also an impeccable dresser who took especial care to keep his shoes shined and his pants pressed. James Goodrich reports in a 1950 interview that, “though Luke is an exceptionally large man, he eats only normal meals. His special appetite is for cereals and vegetable dishes”. He also enjoyed going to watch gangster movies and listening to jazz; Jim Fridley recalls Luke introducing him to Louis Armstrong.

His social life aside, however, it is difficult to sum up the admiration and affection that Luke inspired in those who saw him play or shook his hand during his long baseball career. Minnie Minoso once recalled, “he was such a nice man. I didn’t speak good English, so he’d take me to restaurants and other places and translate for me”. Buffalo historian Joe Overfeld recalls that when Easter died, “for many it was as though the life of a member of the family had been suddenly and tragically snuffed out”. Luke always had time for an autograph, a handshake, a photograph or a smile. He was once fined at a minor league game in Minneapolis for opening the gates to the stadium to let in children who couldn’t afford tickets. One often hears Easter compared to Babe Ruth. The comparison goes farther than their similar power at the plate—like Ruth, Luke had the ability to relate to all who watched him play, at home or on the road. It is with this intense enthusiasm and caring in mind that one can best understand the great baseball life of Luke Easter.

Justin Murphy, from Rochester, writes about baseball history at Seamheads.com and is a member of the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR).

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