The trees behind the outfield wall at Wheeler Field are turning their yellows and oranges, and Sunday morning, you could definitely feel a fall chill in the air as the fog burned off.
But even by 10 a.m. the smell of Wheeler Burgers was in the air. And that was enough to set the mood to remember a legend of the local baseball community.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” Erik Heinz said. “But as soon as I came in and smelled that, it all came coming back.”
Heinz’s father Larry Heinz, who was Rochester’s head baseball coach for 17 years and led the Warriors to two state titles, died on Aug. 9 in Arizona after being diagnosed with metastatic pancreatic cancer. The Rochester community spent the weekend celebrating his life, first at the Warriors’ football game at Tiger Stadium on Friday, then at a public memorial service at RHS, where hundreds of people in Rochester and other baseball apparel paid tribute to the former coach.
“The high school was good, because he was there for so many years,” Erik Heinz said. “I counted yesterday … I think there were 22 banners up there, and he had a part in 16 of them.”
But Larry Heinz was a baseball man, so Sunday, a few dozen friends and family came to Wheeler Field to honor him, eat a Wheeler Burger or two, and play a wiffle ball game.
“He loved people,” Erik Heinz said. “He would have enjoyed all of this stuff.”
The morning started chilly, foggy and somber, as representatives from the American Legion saluted Heinz with a color guard and folded a flag to present to Erik Heinz.
But even the somber moments had Heinz’s fingerprints on them; in place of batters’ boxes, Larry Heinz’s initials were chalked out on either side of home plate. In between them stood a bottle of Diet Coke and a bag of Tim’s Cascade jalapeno kettle chips — Heinz’s favorites.
“He used to complain in Arizona that he couldn’t find Tim’s Cascades,” Erik Heinz said. “Any time he would come here, he would load up.”
Then it was time for a quick game, once enough bats and balls had been found. Teams were split by age — Erik Heinz and his old friends on one side, playing against their children and the next generation.
For a weekend that was as much about celebrating and remembering old jokes as much as it was about somber memorial, it was a fitting Sunday morning.
“This whole weekend has been exactly what I’d wanted, what I think he would want — people he loved telling stories,” Erik Heinz said. “He was the master story-teller, whether you’d heard it eight times before or not. I think this is what we wanted to do.”
