Sitting upstairs in a closet in one of my spare bedrooms, you'll find boxes and boxes of Atlanta Braves baseball memorabilia. The majority of it dates back to the early to mid-1990s — circa the whole "Worst to First" season and the years of magic that followed until we won a World Series in 1995.
Posters, media guides, souvenirs, baseball cards, magazines, programs — I couldn't tell you what all is in those boxes, but I can tell you that every one came straight from the old Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. While my parents took me to a few Braves games as a kid (usually for my birthday), I didn't collect those items myself. They came from a very special person who treated a little girl he'd never met as if she was one of his own.
But that's just the kind of guy Walter Banks was.
When we got the news that Ted Turner died the other day, it made me a bit nostalgic for those days. As a kid, I thought owning the Braves — as Turner did for two decades — was about the coolest job one could have. I didn't care about his money or his politics or anything like that. He was just a guy who was as much a part of the anatomy of Atlanta as Coca-Cola, Gone with the Wind, The Varsity, and Peachtree Street.
(Side note: My colleague Tim O'Brien did a great write-up on him a few days ago, which you can read here: Ted Turner Wouldn’t Make It as a Democrat Now.)
Though I've heard stories about how my grandfather did business with a young Ted Turner who was working for his father's advertising company many years ago, I never met the man himself. However, I often saw him at Braves games, sitting in his personal box near the field. There, Jane Fonda was usually by his side, and sometimes even a certain former president made an appearance, but I was always more interested in seeing if I could spot Walter Banks from wherever I was sitting.
Walter was something of an icon in Atlanta. Born in the 1930s, he took a job as an usher for the minor league team, the Atlanta Crackers, in 1965, and he stayed on when the Braves came to Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in 1966. He was with the team through it all. He got to see all the greats pass through, like Hank Aaron, Eddie Mathews, Phil Niekro, Warren Spahn, Dale Murphy, Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, John Smoltz, Andruw Jones, Ron Gant, and Freddie Freeman. He was there for the opening of Turner Field and eventually, Truist Park, and he was there for thousands of games, multiple postseasons, and a couple of World Series wins across nearly six decades.
When Turner bought the Braves in 1976, he became a big fan of Walter's, who was eventually permanently assigned to the owner's box, where it was his job to greet and assist Turner and his many high-profile guests, celebrities, and dignitaries.
Walter became a local celebrity of sorts himself. People wanted his picture, autograph, or to simply talk to this man who was a walking, talking encyclopedia of baseball, and especially Braves knowledge. But it wasn't his connection to the bigwigs that made him a star — it was him and the fact that he treated everyone like a member of his family. He was gracious and patient enough to spend time with every single fan.
As Brand 47 put it in a tribute to Walter, "Since joining the staff in 1965, he has embodied southern hospitality –– treating anyone seated in section 107 like family. And it’s not just longevity that has sealed Walter’s fate in the hearts of those who encounter him – it’s his warmth, passion, astute intellect, and magnetic attitude that inevitably make an impression."
You can see exactly what that means in these videos:
Walter worked with the Braves well into his 80s, eventually taking an Uber to the ballpark when he could no longer drive. When the Braves celebrated his 80th birthday, he was humbled and said that it was still his "dream job."
But while Walter spent his nights and weekends doing that dream job for the Braves, he spent his weekdays working for another Atlanta icon: Rich's Department Store. That's where he came to know my dad and learned that he had a little girl at home who was about the biggest Braves fan you could find in those days. As the two colleagues became friends, Walter began bringing me little gifts from the stadium practically every week, it seemed. I don't know how, when, or why it started, but I can tell you it absolutely made my day every time my dad came home with a new item, most of which I still own.
Sadly, I never got to meet Walter, and my dad lost touch with him. He retired from his job with the Braves in 2021, and he died last summer at the age of 88. But he left behind quite a legacy in this city. I know I think of him every time I look through those boxes, or anytime I hear something about the Braves, Ted Turner, and those glory years of the 1990s. He's been on my mind a lot this week. I have a feeling he's been on the minds of many people in Atlanta and beyond.
