O's, fans labor to 'give up' Barney Big names, no-names gather for last rites

August 16, 1997|By Mike Klingaman | Mike Klingaman,SUN STAFF Staff writer Peter Schmuck contributed to this article.

In a recent article, it was reported that Orioles owner Peter Angelos did not attend the funeral of team announcer Rex Barney. Angelos did not attend because he was in Washington at a White House conference with administration officials regarding tobacco litigation.

Rex Barney was buried yesterday at noon, 90 minutes before the Orioles game.

Time enough for mourners to reach the ballpark. Barney, the club's longtime public-address announcer, wouldn't have had them miss the game for anything.

FOR THE RECORD - CORRECTION

Still, a handful of friends and fans lingered at Lorraine Park Cemetery in Woodlawn to pay homage to Barney, 72, who died Monday night of apparently natural causes.

"It's just hard to say goodbye to a dear friend," said Elrod Hendricks, the Orioles' bullpen coach. "I know he's probably in a better place, but you just don't want to give him up."

Mike Flanagan, Orioles television announcer, stood at graveside, red rose in one hand and handkerchief in the other. "You're never prepared for this," said the former pitcher, brushing tears aside. "There are certain constants that are always supposed to be there, and Rex is one of them."

Barney, the Orioles' PA announcer for 23 years, was laid to rest in an ordinary grave beside regular folks like those whose lives his homey voice touched.

"I never met Rex, but I felt I knew him," said George Brennan, 74, an Orioles fan from Woodlawn. "We'd wave to him at the ballpark, and he'd always wave back."

Earlier, more than 300 people attended a Mass at St. Ignatius Catholic Church in Baltimore, where, in a touching moment, a priest wordlessly placed two symbols of Barney's life -- Orioles cap and microphone -- atop the casket.

"Another one of the boys of summer has left us, and there is a large hole in the fabric of our lives," said the Rev. Robert J. Braunreuther. He called Barney, who pitched for the Brooklyn Dodgers, "a man blessed with three fields of dreams -- Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, where he pitched a no-hitter, and here in Baltimore where his voice filled both Memorial Stadium and Camden Yards."

It was "providential" that he should perform the service, Braunreuther said; he was raised in Brooklyn and had seen Barney pitch.

Pallbearers included Hendricks, Flanagan, Hall of Famer Brooks Robinson and former Orioles pitcher Dick Hall. Also one-time Orioles public relations director Bob Brown; Phil Itzoe, the team's traveling secretary; sports announcer Tom Davis; and former Orioles manager Johnny Oates, who took a train from New York, where his team, the Texas Rangers, plays tonight.

"I think Rex would be astounded by all of this -- the reaction to his death, the love of the people here -- because of the humble guy he was," said Jim McKay, longtime ABC-TV sportscaster. "Whenever anyone dies, everybody says all those affectionate things, but here was a guy where every one of them was true."

Others attending: sportscaster Chuck Thompson, Hall of Famer Jim Palmer, Orioles general manager Pat Gillick, assistant GM Kevin Malone, pitching coach Ray Miller, former Orioles owner Jerry Hoffberger, former GM Hank Peters, Colts football great Jim Mutscheller and New York Giants assistant GM Ernie Accorsi.

Notably absent were current Orioles players and owner Peter Angelos, probably because of the afternoon game at Camden Yards.

"It is a sad day," said Palmer, fighting back tears. "It's hard, but it's better to have someone like Rex in your life and lose him than to not have had the luxury of his friendship."

Among the mourners was Myrtle Farinholt, a custodian at Oriole Park who came to pay tribute to the man who, two weeks ago, gave her a surprise birthday party.

"He gave me a cake and an envelope with money in it," said Farinholt, 59, who called Barney "Sexy Rexy."

"I never met anyone as caring as Rex who would take time to acknowledge a little person like me," she said.

There, also, was Chuck Comer, who drove from Gettysburg, Pa., for the funeral of a man he hadn't seen in 30 years. Barney was his boss when Comer tended bar at the Pimlico Hotel in the 1960s.

"Rex let me stay with him while I recuperated from an operation," Comer said. "He treated me like a son."

After the one-hour Mass, a cortege of state, city and Baltimore County police escorted a procession of 45 cars from the church on Calvert Street, through West Baltimore, to the cemetery. Fourteen floral arrangements rustled in the soft breeze as Braunreuther offered closure.

"Grant that our brother may sleep here in peace until You awaken him in glory," he said.

A pop-fly away, Genevieve Poe stood watching the ceremony. Poe, an elderly, white-haired Orioles fan, lives across the street from Lorraine Park and ventured over to honor Barney.

"He had the deepest regard for just plain folks," she said.

On quiet summer days, said Poe, she likes to walk among the headstones, nodding at those who've passed on.

Perhaps she'll tell Barney how much he's missed?

She rolled her eyes and tapped her brow.

"He knows that."

Pub Date: 8/16/97

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