When I was growing up, my favorite major league baseball team was not the Phillies but the Brooklyn Dodgers, mainly because their management had the courage and common sense to sign the first major league African American player of the 20th century, Jackie Robinson. He was followed by Black players including pitcher Don Newcombe and catcher Roy Campanella, a native of North Philadelphia and Gratz High School graduate.

The Phillies were the last National League team to sign a Black player, fielding infielder John Kennedy in 1957, a full 10 years after the Dodgers brought up Robinson. (Most fans probably do not know that there were several African Americans playing in the Major Leagues in the 19th century before the owners caved to the wishes of racist players and fans in the early 1890s and instituted a ban.)

But one Phillies player I really liked was Del Ennis (1925-1996), who played for the home team from 1946 to 1956. He was then traded to the St. Louis Cardinals and later played for two other teams before retiring in 1959. In a 14-season career, Ennis compiled a .284 batting average with 288 home runs, 2,063 hits, 1,284 RBIs and 985 runs in 1,903 games. Today, numbers like that would earn him an annual $25 million contract, but according to the Baseball Almanac, Ennis’ highest yearly pay was a mere $25,000, and that was the most of any Phillie at the time. He held the Phillies’ career record for home runs by the end of his time here.

Why did I like Del Ennis? First of all, he grew up in the Crescentville section of Lower Northeast Philadelphia. He graduated from Philadelphia’s Olney High School, where he was an all-state fullback on the football team as well as a star baseball player. My late sister, Lillian, actually attended Olney at the same time as Ennis and spoke to him in the lunchroom several times. She told me he was revered by classmates not only for his athletic exploits but also because he was a very humble, friendly young man.

In 1956, when I was a junior in high school, I had a summer job with the Phillies as a vendor selling peanuts and popcorn. It was tough walking up and down all those stairs carrying heavy boxes for two or three hours. and the pay was basically peanuts, but I got to see the games, and my hope was to meet Del Ennis in person.

After pleading with my boss several times, I finally did get to meet Ennis before a night game, and he autographed a ball for me. We exchanged small talk, but he could not have been more gracious. He seemed to really appreciate my fan-words and said he’d try to hit a home run for me in the game. (He went hitless that night, but nobody’s perfect.)

You would think that Philly fans loved Ennis because of his performance on the field, his likability and his Philly roots. (Dan Topping, the New York Yankees owner and a fellow serviceman at Pearl Harbor along with Ennis, offered Del $25,000 to sign with the Yankees, but he joined the Phillies instead for just a $50 signing bonus because he preferred to play before his relatives and friends. “There’s more to life than just money,” he told a reporter.)

However, the history of Ennis and the abuse he endured from Philadelphia fans, like other Philly legends Mike Schmidt and Dick Allen (a West Mt. Airy resident), was merciless. For example, in the second game of a doubleheader against the Cardinals on July 31, 1954, in the top of the third inning, Ennis dropped a tough outfield fly ball with the bases loaded, and all three runners scored.

As Phillies’ pitcher Steve Ridzik later said to the Philadelphia Bulletin, “We had a packed house, and the fans start to boo him unmercifully. It was terrible. The next inning when he went out to left field, they booed and booed and booed. They booed him when he ran off the field at the end of the inning ... Here he is ... a hometown guy, very nice guy and World War II veteran ...

“He came to bat in the last of the eighth inning with the score tied and two outs. The fans just booed and booed so loud, and all our guys on the bench were just hotter than a pistol. We were ready to fight the 30-some thousand people in the stands.”

In the same inning with two on and two out, Ennis hit the first pitch on the roof in left field at Connie Mack Stadium, and the Phillies won the game by a score of 6–5. But Ennis continued to suffer this abuse whenever he struck out or made an error in a key situation. Nevertheless, he always said he would rather play in Philly than anywhere else.

Not all the fans were obnoxious, however. On June 25, 1946, Olney residents held a Del Ennis Night at the stadium with 36,356 in attendance, and an estimated 20,000 were turned away. Ennis singled with the bases loaded to drive in two runs in the first inning against the Cardinals and drove in a third run later, and the Phillies won, 5-3.

After his retirement from baseball, Ennis lived in Abington and opened Del Ennis Lanes, a 36-lane bowling alley in Huntingdon Valley, which he ran successfully for 33 years. He and his second wife, Liz, had six children. One of them, Dave, was an outstanding pitcher for the University of Delaware baseball team.

Len Lear can be reached at lenlear@chestnuthilllocal.com.