NEW YORK — Some things you never forget, no matter how cluttered the compartments of your mind become over the years.
When was I was 6 or 7, maybe a bit older, my father, an Associated Press radio writer, took me with him to see boxer Joe Louis train. I'm unsure if the site was in New Jersey or upstate. I do remember getting car sick on the stretch journey by limo, causing a prompt evacuation by several other reporters almost before we came to a full stop on the side of the road.
Just as vividly, I remember watching Louis spar a few rounds, hammer a big bag and being introduced to a man who got nearly as much play at our dinner table. His name was Jackie Robinson.