Jerry and I went to see 42 on Thursday afternoon. We had the theater entirely to ourselves. Which meant we didn’t have to whisper and I could look up Harrison Ford’s age on my iPhone without disturbing anyone.
42 is the life story of Jackie Robinson and his history-making signing with the Brooklyn Dodgers under the guidance of team executive Branch Rickey.
I laughed. I cried. I cringed. I cheered. I loved it and will want to see it again when it comes out on DVD. It is a wonderful, inspiring film. Bravo to the people who made it. I highly recommend it.
I have a low tolerance for prejudice. I don’t understand it. And while I came of age in the turbulent ’60s, I was still terribly naive about the kinds of things that happened in the South at the time of this movie.
I admire people who stand up against the status quo when the status quo is controlled by hate. Jackie Robinson helped change how people thought and acted. So did Branch Rickey. God bless them.
We see so much hate in this world. It happens over religion. It happens over skin color. It happens over ethnicity. People who are inclined to hate will find any reason to do it. I’m thankful for my mother who taught me to love instead.