Jim Becker is 86 years old, and the eyes that were once keen witness to so many headline-making events in nearly 70 years as a reporter no longer serve him unfailingly.

But the memory is solid, encyclopedic even, about the events of 66 years ago, when Jackie Robinson bravely strode through the most shameful racial barrier in sports to become the first African-American to play Major League Baseball.

Hollywood will take another shot at paying cinematic tribute to Robinson and his breakthrough when the movie "42" opens April 12.

Becker, the only surviving media member among those who covered that Brooklyn-Boston game, will be hoping the depiction is true to both the remarkable man and the moment in history.

AS A REPORTER for the Associated Press and the Honolulu Star-Bulletin, Becker was a stickler for accuracy, understanding that the greatest stories stand on their own, without need of embellishment.

And the cloudy afternoon of April 15, 1947 at Brooklyn’s Ebbets Field was definitely one of them.

"I still remember it vividly," said Becker, then a 20-year-old with the AP.

An hour before the game, "the players came out of the Brooklyn dugout on the first-base side in ones or twos and then, all alone, came this one black man in that starched white uniform," Becker said.

"I thought, ‘This courageous man, this magnificent athlete is carrying the banner for all of us — and he is carrying it alone,’ " Becker said.

"Nobody spoke," Becker said. "It was a chilling moment."

Indeed, the quiet was riveting in its own way. "Everybody in the press box — and, I think, everybody in the stands — knew what we were looking at," Becker said.

Yet, "there was no media circus," Becker said.

Think about that for a moment. Today, Robinson’s every move, from the moment he first poked his head outside his door, would have been recorded, tweeted and retweeted. No way he could have taken the subway to work, as he did.

But in 1947, even with nine daily newspapers in New York, there was little fanfare. And no TV.

"Nobody in the crowd (listed at 25,623) said anything," Becker recalled. "There was no flashing (of photographers’ flash bulbs), no cheering, nobody rushed to meet him. Nobody on the field said, ‘Hi, Jackie!’

"I wondered if anybody would even warm up with him."

IN TIME, outfielder Al Gionfrido would toss a ball with Robinson. But on a team where players had earlier petitioned against Robinson playing, it would be several more games before bonds of camaraderie began to take hold, and team captain Pee Wee Reese, a native southerner, finally put an acknowledging hand on the first baseman’s shoulder and stared down venomous raggers in the Philadelphia dugout.

By that time Robinson was on the way to being rookie of the year, and the Dodgers were en route to the first of six pennants with No. 42.

"What Jackie did that first day will stick with me forever," Becker said.

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@staradvertiser.com or 529-4820.