When playground director Gene Kelty umpired softball games at Hansen Field in the 1960s, he left no doubt about the location of a good pitch.
“Stee-RIKE!” he’d call in a voice that carried across the street on Drexel and off the brick walls of St. Martin of Tours church, school, convent, and rectory in Detroit’s southeast corner.
“Stee-RIKE!!” Kelty’s voice kept echoing off all those brick houses bordering the playground on Piper, Avondale, and Averhill Court in the Jefferson-Chalmers neighborhood.
“Stee-RIKE!!!” Kelty would shout, all summer long, from noon until the street lights came on, his voice probably carrying over to St. Philip Neri and to St. Ambrose and, perhaps, to Guyton, the big public school nearby.
To Baby Boomers from those big families who spent their summer days at Hansen Field, Kelty’s voice sounded like authority, good judgment, and maturity, like that of Coach Gil Thorp in the comic strip or — maybe, sometimes — what was then called a Dutch Uncle.
Along with calling balls and strikes, Kelty also taught impressionable kids what was fair and foul in life. Now 89, Kelty will be saluted at noon on Saturday (Sept. 7) at Memorial Park in St. Clair Shores at the St. Martin Neighborhood Reunion Picnic. I’m proud to serve as an unpaid volunteer on the committee.
“As much fun as you kids had, I had more,” Kelty said recently when interviewed in his Washington Township condo. “I don’t remember a kid I didn’t like. Even the ones that were a pain in the ass.”
Kelty still looks physically fit, although he uses a walker. “Good genes,” he said, no pun intended. His hair is silver and wispy, his memory sharp, his voice strong. On the wall above his chair was a framed picture of his wife, Peggy (Grieshaber), who died last year after 64 years of marriage.
She was the girl next door when they lived on Dickerson. On their first date, they carried sweets to the St. Martin bake sale and Kelty talked her into walking all the way up to Jeff for a sundae at Sanders.
“Four kids, nine grandchildren, six great-grandchildren, and three on the way,” Kelty said. “I’ve been blessed.”
Many Hansen kids felt the same way about Kelty, who still calls Hansen “St. Martin’s” (while Hansen Field is now known as “Hansen Park”). One of them was Mary Essian Youngblood from the class of 1970, the last group to graduate from what was also called “St. Martin on the Lake.”
“I just always loved that guy,” Youngblood said of Kelty in a telephone interview. “You just knew he had your back. He was so kind, like a mentor, like a safety net in tumultuous times. One of those male figures who made you feel safe.”
Youngblood also remembered Kelty’s demanding side.
“He would expect things from you,” she said. “Play fair. Play by the rules. Be inclusive.”
Kelty graduated from St. Martin in 1953 and did student teaching there while earning a 1958 degree in special education from the University of Detroit.
Aside from summers at Hansen, Kelty spent 41 years with Detroit Public Schools, including eight at Guyton. He also taught at Hutchinson and Stephens and served as the sports director at Cannon Recreation for almost three decades.
He said his mentor was Bill Keenan of St. Martin, who also taught school and ran the playgrounds at both Guyton and Hansen. “Bill Keenan was the best guy,” Kelty recalled. “He was phenomenal.”
Among his fondest memories, he said, was his travel softball team called the “Hansen All Stars,” who’d play anybody anywhere. There is no false modesty to his recollection. “No one wanted to play us,” Kelty said. “We were so darn good. St. Martin’s kids were tough.”
Among the best athletes to spring from the soil of Hansen Field in the Kelty era were Jim Essian (Mary Youngblood’s brother), who had a long career in Major League Baseball; Ralph Simpson, who played in the National Basketball Association; and Phil Riggio, who played basketball at Eastern Michigan University.
Riggio’s brother, Donnie, starred in football at Western Michigan University. Essian will be among the guest speakers at Saturday’s event. Kelty recalled Essian playing basketball with older kids and scraping the skin off his arms by diving on the paved court for loose balls.
Kelty said he would wash the wounds, treat them with ointment and bandages, and send Essian out for more bumps and bruises. Coaches like Bill Fitzgerald, who ran a first-rate St. Martin’s basketball program and later ran for governor, would seek out Kelty’s advice about prospective athletes.
“I knew everybody and who did everything,” Kelty said. “And I knew what they liked to do.”
Although he nurtured athletes, Kelty never ignored those less competitive. Even kids from around Guyton and St. Ambrose found their way to Kelty’s turf. One was Dave Saad, St. Martin class of 1966, who grew up on Philip.
“Gene made everybody feel good about themselves,” Saad said over lunch. “He remembered your name. Gene never talked down to you because you were a kid.”
In the ensuing years, some of the old kids have told Kelty they might have gone to prison without his guidance. Others have told him he was more of a father to them than their own dads.
Paul Agosta, who grew up on Marlborough, said in an email:
“Gene was the surrogate father to several hundred children . . . From arts and crafts to softball, Gene managed the activities, kept the peace and provided a wonderful experience.” Agosta also called Kelty “a mentor who never seemed to age.”
Riggio (1966), who chairs the reunion committee, will present a plaque of thanks to Kelty from the kids now all over the age of 65. Riggio tutored Simpson in basketball and the Riggio family lived in a house at Piper and Avondale across from Hansen’s leftfield fence.
Consequently, Hansen kids bombarded that home all summer with home runs. Riggio recalled how his mother didn’t really like softballs, but she liked Kelty and gave him back the ones from her yard.
“Nobody commanded more respect than Gene Kelty,” Riggio remembered. “He was our buddy. He came into our lives and touched us forever. Every one of us.”
