People Over Patriotism: A Flag, Two Military Veterans & the Baseball Protest of 1976
"I don't agree with burning the American flag, but I also understand that sometimes it takes extreme measures to get people's attention when it comes to Native American issues. It's complicated."
- Native American, U.S. Military Veteran, 2026 (anonymous)
In 2026, we reach a 50-year milestone that remains one of the most misunderstood moments in American sports history. On Sunday, April 25, 1976, at Dodger Stadium, Chicago Cubs outfielder Rick Monday snatched a soiled American flag away from two protesters who attempted to set it on fire.
The baseball world has labeled this moment as an act of patriotism – a heroic rescue of old glory. But as we mark this half-century anniversary, I think it’s time to give voice to the man who has been silenced for 50 years. In doing so, we will come to see that this event has deeper baseball ties than expected. In fact, arguably, it could be reframed as a protest honoring the most famous Native American to play Major League Baseball (MLB).
By glorifying patriotism while ignoring the people and pain behind the intended message, we participate in what Indigenous civil rights advocates call a refusal to “walk through truth.” Our first step towards truth begins with empathy for, listening to, and understanding the human being on the other side of the protest.
Turmoil on the Grass
The man who knelt in the Dodgers’ outfield with his teenage son that day was not a random troublemaker. William Errol Thomas Jr., 37, was a member of an Indigenous community from Maine. And, according to his father’s 1958 obituary, Thomas, then 19, was a U.S. Marine Corps veteran — just like Rick Monday.
Genealogy records suggest that Thomas’ presence on that field that day was intentional, personal, and deeply symbolic. He was the step-grandson of Louis Edward Sockalexis, a nephew of the legendary Louis Francis Sockalexis — the pioneer who, in 1897, became the first Native American in MLB history.
Theresa C. (Lyon) Thomas, the grandmother of William Errol Thomas, Jr., remarried following the death of her first husband. In January 1947, she married Louis Edward Sockalexis in Maine. This marriage created a direct link to one of the most significant families in Native American sports history.
William Errol Thomas, Jr. was born in 1939; thus, he was approximately eight years old when his grandmother remarried. The 1950 U.S. Census confirms that by age 11, William was living in the same household as his step-grandfather, Louis Edward Sockalexis. Growing up in the same home as the nephew of a baseball legend, William likely heard firsthand stories and family lore about his famous relative’s legacy during his formative years.
The date of the protest, April 25, also carried historical resonance. It marked the anniversary of the first casualty at Wounded Knee in 1973 after the occupation by members of the American Indian Movement (AIM). By stepping onto the field, Thomas may have connected his ancestors’ historic legacy with the ongoing fight for justice championed by AIM.
A Crisis in the Data
Upon his arrest, Thomas stated his actions were “a protest against the discrimination of American Indians and a lack of interest in their plight.” At the time, media narratives pathologized his grief, focusing on the struggles of his individual family rather than the structural neglect plaguing Indigenous communities.
But what larger message was this protest trying to tell us? The data from 1976 reveal a community in an ongoing crisis that persists and, in many cases, has worsened today.
Data Sources:
Maternal Mortality (per 100k): GAO Sterilization Report (1976); KFF (2026)
Life Expectancy (at birth): IHS Trends (1976); CDC Vital Stats (2025)
Drug Overdose Deaths (per 100k): IHS Mortality Data (1976); NCHS/CDC (2026)
Poverty Rate: 1970/1980 Census; ACS 5-Year Estimates (2026)
An Uncomfortable Truth
With the 50th anniversary upon us, we should remember that the flag from Dodger Stadium is more than just a piece of nylon; it is a canvas of conflict. In 2026, let us have the empathy and courage to look at the man who held the matches. Rick Monday saved the flag, but William Errol Thomas Jr. was trying to save a people – a people still struggling today.
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Bill Staples, Jr. is an award-winning baseball historian and author who writes about the national pastime, exploring the themes of civil rights, social justice, cross-cultural relations, and globalization. Additionally, he has over 20 years of experience in health equity work as a communications professional. His views do not necessarily reflect the positions of any organization.