On December 31, 1972 the world literally lost Roberto Clemente. His body was never found. A great ballplayer and humanitarian disappeared into a deep ocean when a plane overloaded with relief supplies failed to reach its final destination. A search began late that night off the coast of his native island and, in a way, we've been looking for him ever since. We look for him and we find him... in big cities and small towns, in schools and fields that bear his name, in quotes engraved upon plaques and memorials, in display cases in baseball's Hall of Fame. But it's never enough. Finding him in one place only makes us want to find him all over again somewhere else. Somewhere we least expect it. To stop looking for him would be to say goodbye. To admit he's gone. So we keep searching.
