Prince Joe Henry, one of professional baseball's
original "clowns," was
an all-star infielder for Negro League baseball teams in
Memphis,
Indianapolis and Detroit throughout the 1950s. But up
until the late 1940s,
Prince Joe didn?t know anything about the Negro
Leagues. His knowledge of
organized baseball was limited to the Cardinals and
Browns games he attended
during his preteen years at Sportsman?s Park,
accompanied by lifelong buddy
Eugene "Gene" Crittendon, who could pass for white.
Perhaps Henry?s most vivid memory of those games: Upon entry, white ushers would politely escort the boys to a small section of the left-field stands reserved for "Colored." After climbing past several tiers of bleachers, they?d arrive at their stop, rows and rows behind their white counterparts.
Even at a young age, the boys were conscious of the double standard -- and determined to vent their disdain. The opportunity would arise with the urge to urinate. Rather than head for the latrine, the boys would edge their way to the front of the section and let fly. As the liquid foamed its way down the concrete steps toward the white kids, Henry and his pal would ease back and relax, politely rooting for the visiting team to beat the hell out of the Browns or the Cards.
After all, Henry and Crittendon hailed from Brooklyn, Illinois, a small, predominantly black township just east of the Mississippi River. So hospitable were the residents of Brooklyn that they were known to take in a rank stranger, treat him to breakfast, lunch, supper and a night out on the town -- and afterward, if he messed up, treat him to a good ass-whippin'.
Direct questions on any and all topics to heyjoe@riverf ronttimes.com. If we don't like yours, we'll hit Joe with our own.
Prince Joe Henry, one of professional baseball's original "clowns," was
an all-star infielder for Negro League baseball teams in Memphis,
Indianapolis and Detroit throughout the 1950s. But up until the late 1940s,
Prince Joe didn?t know anything about the Negro Leagues. His knowledge of
organized baseball was limited to the Cardinals and Browns games he attended
during his preteen years at Sportsman?s Park, accompanied by lifelong buddy
Eugene "Gene" Crittendon, who could pass for white.
Perhaps Henry?s most vivid memory of those games: Upon entry, white ushers would politely escort the boys to a small section of the left-field stands reserved for "Colored." After climbing past several tiers of bleachers, they?d arrive at their stop, rows and rows behind their white counterparts.
Even at a young age, the boys were conscious of the double standard -- and determined to vent their disdain. The opportunity would arise with the urge to urinate. Rather than head for the latrine, the boys would edge their way to the front of the section and let fly. As the liquid foamed its way down the concrete steps toward the white kids, Henry and his pal would ease back and relax, politely rooting for the visiting team to beat the hell out of the Browns or the Cards.
After all, Henry and Crittendon hailed from Brooklyn, Illinois, a small, predominantly black township just east of the Mississippi River. So hospitable were the residents of Brooklyn that they were known to take in a rank stranger, treat him to breakfast, lunch, supper and a night out on the town -- and afterward, if he messed up, treat him to a good ass-whippin'.
Direct questions on any and all topics to heyjoe@riverfronttimes.com. If we don't like yours, we'll hit Joe with our own.