When you’re in at the creation of something new, it’s easy to rack up a lot of “firsts.” Glenn Curtiss did this — which doesn’t take away from his accomplishments. But the field was wide open to make a mark.

The same may be said of James “Deacon” White of Caton, who supposedly learned to play baseball from returning Civil War soldiers. In 1868 he went pro (two of his brothers would do the same.) Back then most top teams were amateurs, with a stiffening backbone of paid professionals. Eventually, though, there were all-pro teams, and finally an all-pro league. Deacon Jones arguably started Major League Baseball by having the first at-bat in the first inning of the first game between two all-professional teams (playing for Cleveland, against Fort Wayne in 1871).

In addition to this, his Major League career included:
*The first hit (a double), which was also
*The first extra-base hit, and of course simultaneously
*The first on-base.
*The first catch (remember that these were bare-handed days).
*The first player to ground into a double play. (They can’t ALL be good news.)
*The first Most Valuable Player recognition (1875).
*Member of the first National League pennant team (Chicago White Stockings, 1876).
*The first catcher to crouch right behind the plate, rather than standing farther back. (This maneuver terrified umpires, crowd, and players alike.)
*The first catcher to use a mask (though he felt it restricted his view, and soon gave it up).
*By some reports, he was the first pitcher to throw a curve.

Deacon White went pro in 1868, then spent fifteen years in the majors (starting when they did, in 1871). In those bare-handed days the Deacon played all nine positions, though he was known mostly as a catcher. He later managed minor-league teams, and had 2067 hits in his career. Late in his career his team sold him, but he held out successfully until he got a share of the proceeds. Deacon White freely confessed that he wasn’t the player he’d once been, and had probably been overpriced in the deal, “but no man is going to sell my carcass unless I get half.”

One first he did NOT make was the first class (1939) in the Baseball Hall of Fame. This fact appalled him, but by then almost seven decades had gone by since that first game in Fort Wayne. He had passed from being a star to a legend to a memory to a footnote. He was finally admitted in 2013, becoming the oldest player ever enshrined (born December 7, 1847). Since almost everyone in baseball came in later than he did, and since nearly all of them were BORN later than he was, that’s one distinction he seems very likely to keep.

Neither I nor Steuben County Historical Society had anything to do with his Hall of Fame honor, except by being thrilled. But earlier this year I did get involved, when I was checking some Jim White facts of the Hall of Fame web site. There I “learned” that he had been born, and had died, in Canton, New York.

I took a long time composing a letter, since I figure that the Baseball Hall of Fame is inundated with angry nitpicking factual arguments. So I stressed how pleased we were with everything, and pointed out that while there WAS a Canton, New York, it’s noplace near here, that he had been born in CATON, New York, and died at his daughter’s home in Aurora, Illinois. I got a very nice letter back thanking me, and assuring me that they were making the changes immediately.

So imagine my chagrin when I discovered that they had Aurora right, and Illinois right, and Caton right, but now it said Caton, OHIO. Another carefully composed letter, which this time wasn’t answered (which was fine), and the web site was quickly set to rights.

Shortly afterward I got an e-mail from a man at a historical society in Oregon. He had found a history of a church in Caton, and waned to send it on. I told him he should be pleased with himself for having sussed out the right Caton from clear on the Pacific Ocean, when the Baseball Hall of Fame was having trouble keeping up from the same area code.

I love the ending of a long-ago poem, “When Jim White Played.”

And while o’ course, the players now
Are men o’ grit and might,|
Somehow the game ain’t played the same
As ‘twas by old Jim White.
— Dale Lancaster, 1936

We have sources for all these “firsts,” but “firsts” are very tricky things… they’re often based on legends, affection, nostalgia, and optimism. If anyone has any corrections, we’re happy to hear them. “Deacon,” by the way, was a nickname, rather than an actual title. Straight-arrow churchgoer Jim White was sort on an oddity among the rough-and-tumble 19th-century pros.