This story was told by Edward Miller to Kyonda Trass, in an interview. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Growing up, most people knew me by my nickname, “Pappy.” So a lot of times, if you say “Ed Miller,” you’ll hear, “Who?” But if you say Pappy, you’ll hear, “Oh yeah, that’s Pappy from Richmond!”
I’m a south-side kid. For a long time, we lived with my grandmother on 5th Street and Chanslor Avenue. We moved to Ninth Street and Cutting Boulevard and later to 14th Street and Harbour Way. All the ghetto areas, all the lower economic areas. I went to Lincoln Elementary for kindergarten, then Nystrom Elementary School, then over to Roosevelt Junior High. When they closed that school down, I went to Downer, which was also a junior high back then. I graduated from Harry Ells High School in 1975.
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I was a quiet kid. I was confident, but I didn’t cause any problems. I remember once in the sixth grade, there was a guy who was bullying me. He would take my lunch money and take my sandwiches and stuff. One day he said he was going to kick my butt after school. I didn’t want to fight, so my strategy was to stay after school and help my teacher clean the blackboards. But the whole time, he was just waiting on me. This kid was literally kicking me in my butt as I walked home, and a family friend saw it. She told my mother, and my mother said, “Boy, go out there and fight that kid. And if you don’t whoop him, I’m gonna whoop you!” I will never forget it. I had to go out there and fight this dude. I tore him up.
We grew up poor, but we’re the type of family that had lots of vehicles; we had cars, boats and campers. We went on summer vacations. My grandmother and grandfather were the glue that helped hold the family together. I have two sisters. After my mom remarried, we also had stepbrothers, and a stepsister who I love dearly to this day.
What people really knew me for was sports. I wasn’t just a good athlete — I was a great athlete. I’m not trying to brag. In high school, I was a four-sport letterman. I was a two-time All-American football player, a varsity basketball player, and I played varsity baseball for three years, my sophomore, junior, and senior year. I was running track at the same time, and our team won the California State Championship with only five runners, when other teams had 40-50 team members. When I finished a baseball game, if it was close enough nearby, I’d catch a couple events in track and field. Of course, I was pretty good; I won those 99% of the time.
I didn’t have any real background in sports. My uncle Sonny loved roller derby and was very athletic, so I kind of watched him. We also lived directly across the street from an ex-NFL football player by the name of Travis Williams, who played for the Green Bay Packers. Amongst my peers, we always just played sports and for some reason, God just blessed me with good athletic abilities.
Coming out of high school, I signed a professional baseball contract with the Texas Rangers as a second-round draft choice, the 36th player selected in the entire nation. When I left home, I cried at the airport because it was tough leaving my mom. I was a mother’s boy. Like, “Who’s gonna cook for me?” But I also realized that I needed to go on and become a man. The only thing I wasn’t gonna miss was hearing my mom say she was going to whoop my butt when I got out of line. It was sad for me to be leaving the close-knit family environment behind, too.
I faced many hurdles as a Black player in MLB. But it was still a ‘true blessing’
After signing with the Rangers, I went to rookie ball, which was in Sarasota, Florida. It was a big experience for me because I was only 18 and I was amongst guys that were in their early 20s and older. Learning to be around people from different walks of life was challenging. Being a California kid, people looked at me differently than they did players from the Midwest or South. They thought that we thought we were all that; they thought California players were uppity. So it was a hard job trying to build close camaraderie with those players from other regions. The upper brass also knew the history of great athletes coming from California, so there were higher expectations.
Also a problem for me was being a second-round draft choice. The Texas Rangers was a very racist organization, and when some of the white players saw that I was a second-rounder, they didn’t like that. They gave me a hard time. Playing A-level ball in the minors, I actually got into physical fights with a couple of big old white boys because they were trying to punk me. Again, I’m from the south side of Richmond, so you ain’t gonna go too far pushing me around. I wasn’t trying to have my chest all out, thinking I was better than other folks. But I had to kind of prove to those folks that, yeah, I’m from California but I’m just here trying to make my way. I’m just trying to make it to the major league.
In Double-A, I didn’t have any problems. I was in Oklahoma playing for the Tulsa Drillers and had a great year. I stole like 80 bases. Once people started seeing what kind of player I was, they kind of left me alone and just let me play because we all had one objective, and that was to make it to the major league. And I got there at 19 years old, just two years out of high school.
“The people playing in front of me and I both knew they weren’t better than me. Back then, if the white coaches saw that in your mannerism, they could hold it against you. They certainly held it against me. ”
I played that last month of the season with the Texas Rangers in Arlington, which was quite an experience. My teammates were players I’d watched on TV for many years, and it was just amazing that I was amongst them. I was this can’t-miss prospect, and my future looked very, very bright.
As a player, I kind of had a little attitude. I wasn’t disrespectful towards anyone, but when I wasn’t playing, I was pissed off. The people playing in front of me and I both knew they weren’t better than me. Back then, if the white coaches saw that in your mannerism, they could hold it against you. They certainly held it against me. Through all my professional experiences, it’s always been white managers controlling everything, and having to make sure my attitude and behavior was conducive to how they wanted me to be. Almost like you got to kiss butt. That’s just the game sometimes.
I had an agent, also from Richmond, who was representing me. What I didn’t understand at that time, was that being Black and being a Muslim in the Nation of Islam, and having an agent who was also a Black Muslim, just didn’t sit well with white America. I got opportunities to play, but eventually it was my downfall. It didn’t matter how good I was. I ended up being black-balled and not playing much, not having at-bats.
Someone recommended I talk to Reggie Jackson, the famous baseball player for the Oakland A’s and New York Yankees. He had a white agent who wanted to represent me. But I’m up here brainwashed thinking, “No, let this Black guy do my work,” negotiate my contract, and so on. So I turned him down. It was the biggest mistake I could have made, because I could have played a very long, long, long time in the majors. It stifled my growth.
When I did eventually terminate my contract with that agent, he tried to sue me for $50,000. I offered to pay him $25,000, but he said no. It was just another aspect of being a young person from Richmond, from the projects, and not having the support I really needed to deal with the challenges of playing professional baseball, or to deal with racism. And now I had a Black guy giving me a hard time as well.
I was with the Detroit Tigers at that time, and when we came into town to play against the Oakland A’s, I got knock on the door early in the morning at my hotel. When I opened the door, I had legal papers shoved at me. I’d been served, so I arranged to get a lawyer. My ex-agent was representing himself and was very arrogant during the court proceeding. The judge ended up throwing the case out, saying, “Mr. Miller, you don’t have to pay him one cent.”
There were other challenges, too. When I was traded to the Atlanta Braves, there were guys I’d played against in the minors on the team. Now I’m playing with these guys, and we’re all in the same box trying to make it. I ended up taking over a position that some of these guys wanted, and it became a problem. These are brothers, Black guys, who didn’t like me because, number one, I’m from California, and number two, I came over from another organization. Now I’m taking their job. Professional athletes can change teams a lot, and that’s a piece that’s probably not talked about much, but it’s something athletes go through.
One spring while training in Fort Lauderdale at the major league camp, I heard my name being called out — “Pappy!” — and it was Willie MeGee, my high school teammate from Richmond, who was at the Yankees AA camp at the time. Willie was sad and said he wanted to quit playing pro baseball because he was not being treated fairly. I reminded Willie how he was a great player, encouraged him to keep working hard, and assured him that he would be in the Major Leagues soon. The rest is history — he went on to play 18 years, was a four time All-Star and an MVP with the St. Louis Cardinals.
I later went to the Detroit Tigers, then to the Philadelphia Phillies and ended up with the San Diego Padres. Fortunately, I got a World Series ring with the San Diego Padres in 1984. But that stigma of being associated with the Nation of Islam, I think that just followed me wherever I went.
My MLB career was short-lived, but I had the opportunity to go overseas and keep playing professionally. I went to Venezuela and Mexico. I played in the Dominican Republic. I played against Puerto Rican guys, Cuban guys and Japanese guys. I count my experience in professional baseball as a true blessing because I started right here in Richmond, a little kid having really no hope of doing what I did. Every month, I get that check from Major League Baseball for the rest of my life.
Early retirement from baseball brought mental hardship — and a new career helping others
After my baseball career ended, I went through some mental health stuff. There were times I was so embarrassed to come back to Richmond, because I didn’t make it as big as people had projected. One scout had actually written in an article, “If Ed Miller plays to half of his ability, he’ll have mega millions.” There were times when I was just depressed, and I’d get on a plane and go live in South America somewhere. I’d go live in Mexico because I just didn’t want to face people here and have them know that I was a failure.
“I count my experience in professional baseball as a true blessing because I started right here in Richmond, a little kid having really no hope of doing what I did.”
Eventually I realized I needed to come back, and I got various jobs. I worked in the school district as a tutor, and at JC Penny’s here in Hilltop, back in the day. I’d gone to a cosmetology and barbering college when I was playing ball, so I was also able to get jobs in salons. I also worked at Hair Stylist, Supercuts, and Great Clips. I worked at a salon in Oakland that was owned by the late Major League Baseball player, Claudelle Washington, called Uh-Oh’s on Lakeshore Boulevard. We had an all African-American staff. I was probably the worst one there, but it was a booming salon. I went on to manage there, helping them to stabilize the finances and professional aspects of the business.
Working in a salon after years of playing baseball, the pressing combs and curling irons were kicking my butt — my shoulders, my back, and my knees. I knew that I didn’t want to get stuck in that salon, so I decided to go back to school to try to make some changes in my life.
Up to that point, all I’d had was a high school education. I’d been a pretty good student in high school, but I didn’t apply myself like I should have because sports was the only thing on my mind. But going back as an adult was different; I was motivated. I went to Contra Costa College, and got my AA degree. From there, I went to Cal State East Bay and got my bachelor’s degree, then stayed and got my master’s degree in social work. I paid my way through by doing hair, and to this day, I’ve kept my cosmetology license because you just never know.
Along the way I had also gotten into photography and was picking up various jobs. I’ve photographed for the Bill Pickett Rodeo for the last 22 years, traveling across the country. I’ve shot fashion shows, and even got to photograph Barack Obama when he was a presidential candidate, among other things.
Since getting my master’s degree, I spent several years working for a state mental health program and have worked for various organizations. My specialty right now is providing therapy for individuals suffering from mental health issues like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and depression.
It’s crazy because when I was getting my degrees, I learned a lot about mental health diagnoses, and was like, “Dang, that sounds like me” or “that sounds like my family.” When I learned about depression, I reflected back and realized that I’d suffered from it for years. When my mother died, I was crushed. When I was struggling with no longer playing baseball and getting bumped from jobs and hurting financially, that was another form of depression.
For my own wellness, these days, I love to fish. I used to play a lot of golf, and when I was younger I played basketball at the YMCA with my buddies. I’ve also coached a lot — college softball for women, and college and high school baseball. And I like writing poetry and short stories. I’ve always been good with words, going back to fifth grade; I can remember my English teachers in Richmond telling me I had a knack for it. I’m getting into Black visual art as well, and I have several pieces in my home that I love. It’s what I want to see, the inspiration I want. All of these things have kept me grounded.
We all need to make sure we’re seeking the best possible mental-health path for ourselves. If not, you could find yourself way off on a deep edge. In the past we had this stigma, that we don’t talk to psychiatrists or therapists and things of that nature. But if you want to stay emotionally and psychologically balanced, sometimes you need that extra help. Check in with your family and friends, and if they need support, help them get the support that they need.
How would I like to be remembered one day? Not just as a ballplayer or athlete, but as someone who cared about humanity, who was kind, who was giving, and was supportive.
Incredible article. Thanks for sharing homegrown kindness in Richmond.