Satchel Comes to Town

I was just a kid, but I remember it well because black folks didn’t have a lot of entertainment in those days, at least not in Independence, Kansas. Leroy “Satchel” Paige coming to anyone’s town, white or black was enough to bring out everybody who was anybody and Independence was no exception. Billed as a “Battle Royal” between the Indianapolis Clowns and the Kansas City Monarchs, professional baseball came to Riverside Park in the early 50’s and for everyone that saw the game, it ranks as one of the greatest Independence memories of all time.

Everyone knew the name Satchel Paige. He was the greatest baseball pitcher in the world PERIOD. Paige pitched in the fabled Negro Baseball League, but his exploits were legendary even among white baseball fans. The Kansas City Monarchs were the glamour team of the Negro Baseball League and counted the great Jackie Robinson as a team member before he signed with the Brooklyn Dodgers and became the first Negro “major” league baseball player in the country.

Bedecked in dark blue uniforms with red lettering trimmed in white, the Monarchs were the Negro Baseball League’s answer to the New York Yankees, winning more than a dozen league championships and featuring some of the League’s best players in Cool Papa Bell, Newt Allen and Jesse Williams. For the non-baseball fan, when the color barrier fell with the signing of Jackie Robison, the Monarchs sent the most players on to the major leagues with Satchel Paige, Ernie Banks, Elston Howard who went on to play for the Yankees. The Monarchs won the first Black World Series in 1924.

Clad in Orange uniforms with brown lettering, the Clowns had a reputation as the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball, but the clever antics masked serious baseball talent. Although known for their comic acts, the Indianapolis Clowns weren’t without star players like homerun king “Hammering” Hank Aaron who played for them before being sold to the Boston Braves in 1952 for $10,000. The Clowns also fielded future Major Leaguers John Wyatt (Kansas City Athletics), Paul Casanova (Washington Senators) and Choo-Choo Coleman (New York Mets).

I remember that night in Independence so well because Paige struck out three batters while pitching from second base. No one had ever seen anything like it. I was a base ballplayer and fan, but I’d never seen a baseball thrown as fast, hard and straight as Satchel Paige threw it. Everyone said Satchel was 50-years-old even then and that was before the Major League signed him.

The Indianapolis Clowns had a battery of “King Tut” and “Shorty,” a six-foot-ten inch pitcher and a dwarf catcher, but even the comedic element provided by the disparate duo did not detract from their baseball skills, which were prodigious. Harlem Globetrotter great Reese "Goose" Tatum also played for the Clowns.

That day has long passed, but Satchel Paige stays glued in my mind, just as King Tut and Shorty. I didn’t get to see the great “Goose” Tatum, but another day in Independence brought the mighty “Goose” to the Independence High School gymnasium with the Harlem Globetrotters, but that’s another story and I’ll tell it because dribbling great, Marcus Haynes from Tulsa, OK, played a key role.

Don R Barbera

Hep Me! Hep Me! Hep !

You could hear the jaws slapping the ground when the gold and black clad Omaha Drum and Dance Corp strutted, marched and danced up Pennsylvania Avenue that Neewollah afternoon. Eyes popped, bulged and rolled when the scantily young ladies slow rolled it, popped that thang and shook what their mama gave them while the Omaha Drum Corp provided a syncopated drumbeat funkier thank a sack of gym socks.

Everyone just looked. There was no applause, just silence. Then the crown let go in one prolonged gang of applause and shouts. The team was unexpected and in a majority white town who would book such a group? It didn’t take long to find out who booked the group—Jim Halsey. Jim was the local boy done good. He was a true star and worked with stars regularly. In fact, that year he had Roy Clarke and Glen Campbell performing in our little funky ass town. For those too young to remember, both performers were million sellers and had their own television shows.

They danced in precision as well as the drummers who did not miss a beat, danced along with the girls. We followed them the length of the parade route and were lad we did, because when the routine finally ended, they came right into the crowd where all the young folks in Independence were waiting. There they were all colors from creamy coffee and honey brown to sweet Hershey’s and black coffee. I don’t recall ever seeing as many pretty girls in one place.

The girls evidently found some of the drummers attractive, but we didn’t care. These girls were pretty, friendly and available—that is until we found out they had a chaperone. Shit! They would be there until Sunday. Nevertheless, we stayed until they had to leave and even went to a party at the Shelter House Saturday night. We still managed a little slow grind and short kisses, but getting out the doors was like trying to leave Fort Knox with a pocket of gold.

Well, it finally ended and everyone said their goodbyes and promised to write. At least we still had the memories of the action. If they had been playing football, the ref would have had to through a flag for backfield in motion.