This Summer, on June 27, baseball lost more than just a player—it lost a living, breathing piece of its history. The headlines were simple—just three letters, “RIP”—but the weight behind them was immense. The third-oldest living MLB player, a living bridge to baseball’s golden past, had passed away at 98. For most baseball fans today, his name might not be a household name. But for baseball fans who know the golden times, he was a symbol of another era.

That quiet giant was Edward Allen Mickelson, once the final living link to the St. Louis Browns and a living connection to eras most fans know only through stories and box scores. A quieter era, when the game was much slower and played with more grit than glamour. In fact, he was the man who drove in the final run for the St. Louis Browns before the franchise moved to Baltimore and became what is now the Baltimore Orioles.

That RBI came in September 1953 against the Chicago White Sox and is etched into the sports trivia books forever. But really, Mickelson’s life is much more than that swing.

Mickleson went from a three-sport star at University City High School to a wartime serviceman. He moved seamlessly from baseball diamond to basketball court to football field. While basketball first brought him local fame, it was football that opened the door to a scholarship at the University of Tennessee. But the pull of home proved stronger than any playbook, and Mickleson soon found himself at the University of Missouri, making an immediate impact as a freshman starter in both basketball and football, even earning honorable mention on the All-Big Six team.

Yet, just as his college career was gaining momentum, the world called him to a different kind of service. In 1944, with World War II raging, Mickleson set aside his athletic dreams to enlist, joining a generation whose stories stretched far beyond the scoreboard. He was, until recently, one of only three former MLB players still alive who did this.

When the war ended, Mickleson’s journey didn’t resume where it left off. Instead, it took a new turn at Oklahoma A&M, where legendary coach Hank Iba welcomed him onto the basketball court. There were no basketball scholarships left, so he accepted a baseball scholarship instead—a twist of fate that would shape his future. His stats weren’t eye-popping, but sometimes, all it takes is being in the right place at the right time. After just 30 games—split evenly between high school and college—Mickleson was invited to try out for the St. Louis Cardinals. He left with a $2,000 contract in hand, marveling at his own unlikely path: “Imagine getting a professional contract after playing only 30 games.”

Later in his career, he was with the Cardinals, Browns, and Cubs, and his journey has been one of perseverance over time. Despite having only 18 MLB games, he racked up 1,374 hits in the minors and hit .316 over his career. For many, he wasn’t just the last living Brown; he was like a bridge between the baseball of the past, the kind of player MLB fans’ grandfathers might have told them about. Now that voice has gone silent, and fans are mourning and remembering him for who he was online.

MLB fans mourn the loss of St. Louis legend

One user mentioned, “RIP Ed Mickleson,” and even talked about his book as being the best baseball book ever. The fan was referring to the book called Out of the Park: Memoir of a Minor League Baseball All-Star. In it, Mickelson doesn’t talk about baseball fame or the fortune that comes with it. Instead, it is about the reality—the behind-the-scenes grind to the minors, the bus rides, the heartbreaks, and the call-ups. It’s a candid book that talks about things most players today don’t want to reveal.

Saddened, one MLB fan was reminded that Mickelson was the last living St. Louis Brown around. And this hits home for St. Louis fans; Mickelson wasn’t just tied to the Browns, he was tied to the MLB game and the city. He went to the high school there, got his shot with the Cardinals, and even closed the chapter of a franchise there. His death isn’t just a loss of another player; it’s like closing a chapter on their own local legend’s book—it feels personal.

One user mentioned that it is a sad thing to report, but Mickelson, who played for the Cardinals in 1950 and the Browns in 1953, passed away. And really, it is a reality of baseball’s long timeline. Ed’s appearances with both teams make him one of the few players who were truly part of two iconic sides of St. Louis baseball history. Fans of both will feel the loss equally, and really, these stories are getting rarer by the year.

One user mentioned Godspeed to Mickelson—and really, sometimes the simplest goodbyes hit the hardest. The word ‘Godspeed’ carries so much weight, and it’s a farewell for someone who is going on a journey, not just leaving. For the MLB fans, Ed, after all, wasn’t just another player. He was a man who lived through wars and played with legends like Stan Musial and Satchel Paige. But through it all, he remained calm.

Reminiscing, one MLB fan mentioned how one of the oldest surviving MLB players and someone tied to St. Louis sports history had passed. And it is true, because now there is only Billy Hunter (97 years old) as the last Browns player standing. Mickelson’s loss feels deep because he was a part of the team that no longer exists in MLB. So, his passing reminds everyone about the game and the deep roots it has. And sure, Mickelson didn’t have the stats to be in Cooperstown, but to baseball’s golden past, he was a legend.