(NOTE: The Ted Williams Museum closed in 2006 due to declining attendance and reopened in 2007 at Tropicana Field, home of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, in St. Petersburg, Florida.)
Remembering baseball's best
The Ted Williams museum draws fans to small Florida town
August 18, 2002
By Pete Williams
Special Contributor
HERNANDO, Fla. - The prime parking spot in front of the Ted Williams Museum and Hitters Hall of Fame still is reserved. The bronze sculpture depicting the late Boston Red Sox slugger sitting in uniform on a bench remains undisturbed, although two small American flags have been placed in its grasp.
Since Mr. Williams' death July 5, the museum has attracted thousands of fans looking to pay their respects. With no funeral, and with Williams' remains frozen in a cryonics facility in Arizona - the subject of a bitter battle between his children - fans have come to perhaps the most appropriate place to honor the baseball legend.
The museum, which opened in 1994, just a few blocks from where Mr. Williams lived, is a fitting tribute to a man viewed as more American hero than baseball player. From its two-story, Corinthian-column entryway to its 12,000 square feet of exhibits to its theater showing a two-hour loop of highlights and interviews, the building seems more like a presidential library than a sports museum.
Some would say that's only appropriate for the man often referred to as the real-life John Wayne, a cocksure, bellowing figure known not only as the greatest hitter in baseball history, but as a fighter pilot and member of the fishing and baseball halls of fame.
"Where you here from?" asked Bill Kramer, in a thick Boston accent. Like many of the retirees who volunteer at the museum, Kramer came to Citrus County in part because of Mr. Williams, who arrived in 1982 to promote the area to New Englanders as a retirement destination on behalf of developer Sam Tamposi, a former part-owner of the Red Sox.
For years, Mr. Williams' face appeared on billboards encouraging drivers to pull over and check out the community of Citrus Hills, where he lived. Far from beaches and theme parks, Citrus County represents a part of Florida that's quickly disappearing, with its sprawling live oaks draped with Spanish moss and large expanses of pastureland.
To many here, Williams was thought of as a Floridian, even though he was born and raised in San Diego and a star in Boston. But he spent his latter years in the Sunshine State, living for a time in the Keys. His museum is the biggest draw in Citrus County, which is considered part of the growing Tampa Bay market but more closely resembles the horse country of nearby Ocala.
Each February, beginning with the museum’s opening and continuing this year, Mr. Williams drew some of the most prominent names in baseball to the tiny community. Some came out of courtesy to Mr. Williams, but even they left impressed by the museum. Like the National Baseball Hall of Fame in upstate Cooperstown, N.Y., the Williams museum belies its small-town location.
Built in the shape of a baseball diamond, the interior depicts Mr. Williams' life from childhood through the majors to retirement. Glass-enclosed displays of memorabilia chronicle Mr. Williams' baseball career, including five prime seasons lost to military service as a fighter pilot in World War II and Korea. Another wall pays tribute to his fishing exploits, as well as his tenures as manager of the Washington Senators and Texas Rangers.
Though the museum includes a valuable collection of baseball memorabilia, there's also a mounted 150-pound tarpon Mr. Williams caught in the Keys and a life-size statue of Mr. Williams in hip waders. There's even a display case devoted to his longtime role as a pitchman for Sears, with a Williams-endorsed thermos and bicycle.
Visitors can take a detour along the first-base side of the diamond to the theater, which with its vaulted ceiling, exposed green ductwork, old-style hanging clubhouse lights and bleacher seating seems like something out of Boston’s Fenway Park.
Television monitors show Williams highlights and speeches, from his Hall of Fame address in 1966 to his remarks at the dedication of the Hitters Hall of Fame in 1995, when he unveiled his 20 greatest hitters of all time. There's footage from the museum's star-studded opening a year earlier, when Muhammad Ali and Joe DiMaggio were in attendance. Former President George H.W. Bush pays tribute on video, as do fishing pals such as former Indiana University basketball coach Bobby Knight. Then there's Mr. Williams himself, interviewed about his life from high school through retirement.
Much of the memorabilia on display came from private collectors. Barry Halper, the most accomplished baseball collector who broke up his staggering stockpile several years ago, provided game-used jerseys from Mr. Williams' career. Others donated lesser items, albeit equally unique ones, such as a Maine license plate RSOX 406, a tribute to Mr. Williams' batting average in 1941, the last time a player hit .400 or higher.
Though Williams memorabilia takes up the outer rim of the diamond, more prominent inside space is devoted to players such as Cal Ripken and Don Mattingly, inducted into the Hitters Hall of Fame in February. A life-size statue of Mr. Williams swinging a bat sits atop a raised platform in the center of the diamond, where the pitcher’s mound might go.
A corridor from the third-base side of the diamond leads into the Hitters wing, where displays honor the 20 greatest hitters, including Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Stan Musial, Frank Robinson and Babe Ruth. (Williams excluded himself from the ranking.) Outside, in the divider of the driveway leading to the museum, is a giant number 9, Williams' uniform number, painted Red Sox red. Inlaid along the entry sidewalk are two granite slabs, inscribed with his Hall of Fame induction speech on one side and his lifetime statistics on the other.
Mr. Williams initially resisted the idea of a museum, the first dedicated to a living athlete, but soon took an active role in its creation. It draws more than 50,000 fans annually and is part of the Ted Williams Foundation, which provides scholarships. There are two fields adjacent to the museum, where kids compete in the Ted Williams League.
Mr. Williams was in a wheelchair and unable to speak when he made an unexpected appearance at the Hitters Hall of Fame induction ceremony in February – his last public outing. He was joined at a podium by his two youngest children, John-Henry and Claudia, who are now battling their half-sister to keep his remains frozen in Arizona.
Until his health deteriorated, Williams frequently rolled up to the museum in a golf cart, usually when a group of children was on hand. Inside, he'd grab a bat and have the youngsters demonstrate their swings while he offered instruction. Fathers gasped. Mothers snapped pictures. "He never got tired of talking baseball with kids," said John Kriston, the museum's executive director.
Though less than 100 miles from Tampa or Orlando, the museum is off the familiar Interstate 4 path that goes from Daytona Beach through Orlando and St. Petersburg. Museum officials expect increased attendance to continue through this year into next spring when, barring a players’ strike, many fans will arrive from the north for spring training and, perhaps for the first time, venture to a museum that reflects a man who was larger than life.
© Copyright 2002 The Dallas Morning News Co.
