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Barnburner: A Baseball Island Yarn, Chapter One

Words and Illustration by B.E. Sabin | October 10,2024


 

The fire raged in the West End Grounds grandstand and after forty-five minutes it was a grandstand no more and became just a smoldering pile of ashes. The fire was caused by a discarded match, at least that’s what little Tommy Leary said, but that was debatable. Mrs. O’Sullivan claimed that the fire was started by a group of rowdy miscreants, which included little Tommy. The miscreants, known in the neighborhood surrounding the West End Grounds as the Wacker Boys, enjoyed causing destruction and chaos for their personal amusement. They had a long-standing beef with Mrs. O’Sullivan regarding her reporting them to the police about some missing candy bars. And further, still, some believed that the fire was started by a group of religious ladies, which included Mrs. O’Sullivan, who were in opposition to baseball being played on Sundays. Sundays were for the Lord, they said, and baseball was for the devil. Their reasoning for slighting the grand game was that it was a breeding ground for gambling, drinking, and fighting, which was true, but it didn’t mean that baseball was for the devil, it just meant that it was susceptible to such things.

The fire didn’t just burn the beautiful wooden grandstand it spread to the neighborhood that surrounded the ballpark. In total 66 acres of downtown Clarksville were leveled and nearly 200 people were left homeless in what came to be known as the Great West End Fire. 

The smoke from the fire could be seen all over Baseball Island and one person who saw it was Eugene Pennebaker. He had been enjoying a glass of the strongest liquor he could find at his favorite watering hole, The Little Lady when he spotted the first wisps. The liquor that Eugene was drinking was called the Widow Maker because after being consumed the recipient of its intoxicating properties was occasionally known to inexplicably fling themselves from great heights, which would surely result in their messy demise. But this occurrence was so few and far between, and the pleasurable effects of the Widow Maker so great, that most were willing to risk an untimely death for a few hours of bliss.  


Baseball Island

Eugene hadn’t quite reached the blissful and possibly dangerous phase of his consumption yet and so, when he saw the smoke he knew that it was his duty (damn those oaths) to report to, or as close to, the source of the fire. Even though fire suppression was in the hands of the fire department, they had yet to employ investigative means and so they relied upon the police force to work with them concerning the cause of a fire and whether it was of malicious or accidental origin. 

Eugene’s glass of Widow Maker was still half full and he dared not shoot the rest of it because one only sips and does not poor down one’s gullet the Widow Maker. So, against what he truly wanted, Eugene brought his unfinished drink to the bar, made a gesture to the bartender, settled his bill, left a couple of bucks extra, and rubbed a statue of a scantily clad miniature lady (as was customary when exiting the Lucky Lady) before leaving behind Eugene and once again becoming Detective Pennebaker.

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