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Page 2 of 2 Jenny then told the San Francisco Chronicle in a May 9 story about a poll she conducted of her fifth-grade class at Marin Terrace School. Out of 16 boys in class, three object to girl baseball players, and they, Jenny says, "are the tough boys who show off in front of girls – what would they do if a girl got into Little League and did better than they did?"
Another article running the same day in the paper said that most girls and women who have any involvement in sports – either as an athlete or a fan – are regarded at best with "amusement" by most men.
Jenny received letters of support from people who followed her story. "I wish you peace, a love that holds close with open arms, the joy of being free to be. I admire your determination. Have happiness and success always," read one letter.
A Michigan town disbanded the local Little League chapter after being forced to kick 12-year-old Carolyn King off the team, and take back her uniform because of the "no girls" rule, according an article in the Examiner. Girls wanting to play on teams in Michigan, North Carolina and Virginia were stopped from playing as well.
On the national level, the media’s focus was on another battle brewing in women’s sports. In a few months, on Sept. 23, 1973, an estimated 37 million Americans would watch Billie Jean King defeat Bobby Riggs in a tennis match in the Houston Astrodome.
NOW Jumps In
Lee Hunt, president of the Marin chapter of the newly forming National Organization for Women, wrote Jenny and her mom a letter on May 21, 1973, asking them if they wanted help. Hunt became a major asset in Jenny’s fight to play. In a letter to the pair later in the battle, she wrote: "It's certainly not easy to stand up and challenge the way things have been done. Sometimes even friends may disagree with us, but in the end I think you are respected for standing up for what you believe to be right.”
Jenny was confident she would be on the field, rather than the bleachers, when next season rolled around, but she still faced discrimination. She was called a tomboy by some boys, and said she hated to wear dresses because "my underwear shows every time I bend over," she told the Independent. "The boys pick on her," said one of Jenny's classmates who said she also wanted to play. "I know one boy in our class who says he'll quit Little League if we get on."
Jenny’s plea to play was taken to the city council. She showed up for a meeting wearing a T-shirt, pants, and a plastic baseball cap. The 10-year-old fifth grader was then grilled by a standing-room only crowd that is described by the papers as "overflowing" and "hostile." Mayor Jean Barnard – a woman – asked Jenny, "Why don't you want to play baseball with the girls?"
"Girls are expected to play with dolls," Jenny responded. "We don't have that much experience playing baseball. But that doesn't mean we can't. I haven't played with dolls since I was 7 years old."
The meeting ended with the city council voting 3-2 to tell Little League to not come back unless girls could play – with the mayor voting against Jenny. Barnard explained herself to the Examiner, saying that, "there is very little difference between the sexes, except in muscle power. Viva la difference."
The council decided that organizations discriminating based on sex could not use city facilities, but it still didn't win Jenny the right to play, because the council decided to let the ban on girls remain until the end of the season.
On April 2, 1974 – a year after she gets her response to her letter from President Nixon – ACLU lawyer Fred Hurvich told the Examiner he would sue the City of Mill Valley if girls couldn't play that summer in Little League. On April 10, 1974, Marin Superior Court Judge Joseph Wilson issued a temporary restraining order, which said that the team could not bar Jenny from membership on account of her sex, and that Little League could not take away the team’s charter. Four hours later, Fulle became the first girl to officially play Little League baseball since the rule disallowing girls was added in 1951.
Jenny – now 11 and in the seventh grade – played for the Mill Valley Bears. Player reaction was mixed.
"I thought we would have a crappy girl, but she's good," said 10-year old Jess Allan. A pitcher commented, "She's going to ruin baseball."
One pitch hit Jenny's helmet. She hit the dirt, got up and "smashed out a liner." Twelve more pitches that game, and she hit nine of them beyond the "reach of any fielder." At bat, the outfield yelled for the pitcher to, "Pitch it to her like she's a boy."
Jenny took it all in stride. "All smiles," said one paper. "I'm happy and glad I'm finally am getting to play. It's going to be fun," Jenny said. She went on that season to lead the league in homeruns. She only played one season, because of the age cap. Six girls sign up the next season for the Mill Valley League in Marin. The league also added women assistant coaches.
In June of 1974, the Little League national office officially bows to public and legal pressure, and announced that the league will begin admitting girls.
Some of those who opposed girls playing would later say they were wrong. This includes Dr. Creighton Hale, a physiologist and the Little League president at the time, who was recently interviewed in the book “Play Ball: The Story of Little League Baseball.” Hale was a major force in keeping girls out, arguing that bone structure and other physical differences made baseball too dangerous for girls to play. Hale now has a granddaughter that has played Little League, and adds in the book, “what comes around, goes around.”
With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility
In 1977, the movie "Star Wars" came out, and the world of visual effects was rapidly evolving. As fate would have it, George Lucas built the now famous Skywalker Ranch in Marin County, and Jenny's step-dad, a landscaper, got a job with him. The Ranch and Lucas' Industrial Light and Magic are home to the visionaries of the field of visual effects.
Jump forward a few years to 1980, when Fulle was 18 and not sure what she wants to do, having dropped out of college a couple of times already. A man who worked in janitorial services at her step-dad's work hurt his ankle, and was out for a few weeks, so Fulle stepped in, initially just temporarily.
She did such a good job as a janitor, that she was kept on. And so began her journey up the ranks in the world of production and visual effects to her current position of executive vice-president.
Fulle, who moved to Los Angeles shortly after her career started to take off, has always been out as a lesbian both personally and professionally. She now coaches her own son in Little League. “Of course, every year, we have a few girls,” she said.
CNN interviewed Fulle a few years ago at a Little League parade in her hometown. One little girl that plays Little League told the network, "I really appreciate [Fulle], because baseball's a big deal to me. I've been playing for five years."
"If she hadn't changed that, I don't think many other girls would have had the guts to do it," added another.
Kaki Flynn is a writer, and can be reached at KakiSports.com.
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Great story! We need more stories about women!