Small town known for growing cherries is mighty proud of its biggest son

LINDEN, Calif. — Up until a few months ago, this little speck on the map, this tiny town of 1,700, was known for one thing: cherries. Today, it is known for something much larger. Because this is where Aaron Judge grew up. It is where he spent his formative years. It is the place that shaped him into the most feared hitter in the major leagues. And it is ironic that a place with no stoplights (the closest one is about 10 miles away in Stockton) produced the brightest star in the Yankees constellation right now. “I think everybody’s out here for the same reason,” Eric Schmidt, 40, Judge’s next door neighbor, said. “We want to raise kids, to have a chance at that American dream, or whatever you want to call it. It’s kind of like Mayberry, in that way.” To visit Linden, to speak with the people who live and work there, is to get a peek inside the mind of the gentle giant roaming right field for the Bombers, the Bunyanesque basher who has skyrocketed to to the top of the baseball universe in a few short months. Even in stardom, Judge is polite and humble. Like when he returned home after his brief stint with the Yankees at the end of last season and a cashier at the local grocery store asked him for autograph.

“He just turned red,” Chris Fong, the owner of Rinaldi’s supermarket, said. “He didn’t know what to do.”

Presumably, Judge has had some practice signing autographs since then.

There are more of these stories. Christmas at the mall, Judge taking pictures with dads and their little daughters. Appearances at the annual summer block party, when the men in town would track Judge’s ever increasing size, built with weights housed in his parents’ backyard. The many baseballs he blasted out of the high school field, onto Highway 26 beyond the left field fence.

Nancy Pearce, who works at Rinaldi’s, beams with pride, talking about how her daughter played tee ball and went to school with Judge, how they’ve known him since kindergarten.

“We can’t be more proud,” she said. “You can talk to anybody.”

Or Race Geesink, the 18-year-old baseball player who is headed to college, hoping to follow in Judge’s footsteps.

“We’re all surprised, but at the same time, not so surprised,” Geesink said while he lined the baseball fields in the same complex Judge dominated not long ago. His most vivid Judge memories are from when he was an unstoppable force on the football field across the way. “I remember saying just throw him the

ball because of how big he was,” he said.

Everyone in Linden seems to have a Judge story, a brush with celebrity they will remember forever. And even in a place where he is so adored, his ascension to the top of the baseball world has even taken his biggest boosters by surprise.

“I remember when he started Fresno State, we didn’t think much about it then,” Schmidt said. “Just that he was going to college to get some degree, you know? But man, we have a picnic each year down here for all the people and he would come, and as years went by, he kept getting bigger and bigger.

“I’m a tall guy, so I always noticed he was getting taller and then he was taller than me, you always pick that up,” he said. “Then the kid started getting thicker and thicker and I remember saying, ‘Boy, that’s a good size guy!’ But he’s a really nice guy. That’s the best part about it.”

Judge returned home with the Yankees this week for a four-game series against Oakland, which is 85 miles west of Linden. The town was abuzz prior to Judge’s anticipated return, many purchased tickets to see him in person, and the local booster club planned to load a bus with 60 people for one game. Judge received a hero’s welcome; he was cheered louder than some A’s players when he was introduced with the starters Thursday night. Every at-bat was more of the same.

“We’re a small community, so we’ll always root for the local guy,” Fong said. “A lot of people were Giants fans, A’s fans, but everybody is behind the Yankees now. Because of Aaron.”

Fong has TVs installed above the registers in the store, he said, so customers rarely miss one of their guy’s games. There is much local pride in Judge, but it goes both ways. As proud as Linden is of him, Judge is just as proud to call the town home. “Just a close-knit community,” Judge said. “Everywhere you go, you see someone you know on the corner. That was the cool thing about growing up there is I knew everybody. Everybody was my friend, everybody was looking out for each other and there’s no better place to grow up.”

Linden was built on a foundation of hard work. Technically not a town, it is a “census designated place” originally settled by Italian immigrants known locally as truck farmers because they would drive the produce they grew into San Francisco to sell in the 1920s and 30s. These laborers cobbled their money together, collectively bought land, and made Linden a home for future generations. The region, which sits on the dry, arid land in the hills to the east of Oakland, eventually became known for its robust cherry production.

But now it’s known for producing the best story in baseball.

Judge has been a revelation this season, but take a closer look, and you can see the Linden in him. Just like the work ethic of those determined men who settled Linden, the same was present in spring training when Joe Girardi had to tell Judge to go home after too many hours spent in the batting cage.

“I was like you guys have to go home pretty soon,” Girardi said. “I don’t want your hands bleeding. But that’s just who he’s always been.”

Local residents credit the work Wayne and Patty Judge did raising their adopted son. Wayne and Patty were teachers and she is among the most active members of their tiny community. When new families move to town, Patty is among the first to welcome them, neighbors said.

It is also not uncommon for Patty to organize their contact information and even get the make and model of their cars.

“So if we see something that ain’t right, they’re on it,” Schmidt said. “We all keep an eye on each other.”

John Pile, who lives across the street from the Judges, was the sheriff in town for more than 30 years. He’s known Aaron Judge his entire life, he’s seen him grow from a boy into a man, and the retired lawman still can’t wrap his head around how big and famous the kid from across the street has gotten.

“From a small town like this?” he said. “It’s amazing.”