In early May 1912, as Washington, D.C. slowly emerged from a cool spring, tragedy struck during a baseball game in the city’s northeast quadrant. The players were not professionals, not even minor leaguers. They were members of a local church baseball team, enjoying a Saturday game. One of them, George S. Hiett, would not survive the day.

The Game That Turned Deadly

On the afternoon of Saturday, May 4, the Church of the Nativity team took the field against Sherwood Presbyterian Church as part of the city’s Sunday School League. The game was held at 14th and A Streets NE, an area that, according to the 1909 Baist real estate atlas, still featured several undeveloped lots north of East Capitol Street and across from the Metropolitan Railway Company’s expansive grounds.

George S. Hiett, a 27-year-old member of the Nativity team, stepped up to bat.

Pitcher Charles Kelly, also from the Church of the Nativity, was on the mound. The Washington Times printed on May 5th that Kelly “threw the sphere with as much speed as possible.” Hiett never reacted. The ball hit him squarely on the side of the head. “He did not move,” the article stated, adding that he collapsed immediately and never regained consciousness.

Hiett was taken to Casualty Hospital. By 10 o’clock that night, he was dead.

The coroner ruled the incident accidental and released Kelly from custody. As reported in the Times, “Coroner Nevitt today issued a certificate to the effect that George S. Hiett…came to his death by accident.” Kelly had been momentarily held, but no foul play was ever suggested. It was, tragically, just a game.

A Week of Accidents

The Washington Times, May 5, 1912, in its Sunday edition, also ran a longer article under the headline “Baseball Reaps Heavy Harvest in Capital City”. It noted that Hiett’s death was just one of several serious injuries in local baseball games that week:

• Lewis Watkins of Eastern High School broke both bones in his lower leg during a game on Wednesday.
• Sylvan King and Henry Mess of Central High School collided while chasing a foul ball. Mess was left with a badly sprained ankle. King was “shaken up” but able to walk away.
• Robert Marmion of Mt. Pleasant fractured his arm during a home plate collision.

The Times summed it up starkly: “Within the last four days one death and at least four serious accidents have resulted from baseball games in this vicinity.”

A Field Beside the Car Barn

The location of the game, 14th and A Streets NE, was more vacant land than ballpark in 1912. The 1909 Baist map shows large undeveloped tracts across from the Metropolitan Railway Company lots. These open fields provided ample room for casual games. It’s likely that the church league relied on such unregulated spaces for their Saturday matchups.

Across the street was a dense cluster of trolley company property. On weekends, the sounds of streetcars being serviced and dispatched likely mixed with the chatter of baseball players and cheering spectators. It was a space where industry and recreation rubbed shoulders.

The Funeral

The Washington Times, in its May 6, 1912 issue, noted that Hiett’s funeral was held the following Tuesday at his home on 26th Street and Rhode Island Avenue NE. The entire Church of the Nativity baseball team served as pallbearers. The service was quiet, somber. He was buried in Glenwood Cemetery, just north of Florida Avenue.

No Helmet. No Warning.

In 1912, no player wore batting helmets. Not in the major leagues. Not in amateur leagues. Protective gear was limited to rudimentary gloves and perhaps a catcher’s mask. Batsmen faced pitchers with little more than bravado and prayer.

There was no safety protocol. No rulebook guidance for beanballs. The fastball that struck Hiett would have been within the expectations of the game. And that makes the silence after the pitch all the more tragic.

In the Shadow of the Titanic

Only three weeks before Hiett’s death, the Titanic had sunk in the North Atlantic, killing over 1,500 passengers and crew. The world was still in mourning. Washingtonians had followed the story closely, especially since President Taft’s own military aide, Archibald Butt, had gone down with the ship. (We previously covered Archie’s remarkable story and final voyage).

Though one was a global disaster and the other a local accident, the emotional thread connected them. The year 1912 had barely begun, but it was already leaving scars.

Not Forgotten

George S. Hiett’s story never made national headlines. There were no calls for reform, no rule changes like those that followed the 1920 death of major league player Ray Chapman, who was killed by a pitch from Carl Mays. Chapman’s death prompted real debate over safety and eventually led to changes in how baseballs were maintained and how pitchers were monitored.

But Hiett’s death? It was a quiet tragedy. A loss that rocked a small circle of teammates, family, and neighbors in Northeast Washington.

There is no plaque at 14th and A. But his story lives on in the yellowed pages of the city’s newspapers and in the shaded paths of Glenwood Cemetery.