Babe Ruth took a practice swing and stepped out. Locating me, he asked, "If we can't leave this place, OK, but what if a baseball does?"

I smiled, replying, 'I don't know Babe, it's never been done."

Alexander laid the pitch right in there and the swing, impact, and trajectory were unforgettable. The classic Ruthian Blow; very high, very deep, and very gone, over the fence, over everything toward the ponds and palmetto scrub of the state forest beyond. At its zenith with all eyes following the ball, it seemed to flicker for a moment and then, it completely vanished into the air...

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