When the Texas League left Paris after the 1904 season, it by no means signaled the end of professional baseball in Lamar County. From 1905 until 1957, Paris was home to many teams playing in circuits like the North Texas League, the Sooner State League, and the Western Association. For several years beginning in 1912, Paris placed a team in the Texas-Oklahoma League. Playing under the names “Boosters” and “Snappers,” the teams played quite well, although no particularly memorable names are found on the rosters; that is, with the exception of one. It won’t be found in any record books and it’s likely not mentioned in any of his several biographical works, but for one forgotten game in 1914, Paris was home to a rather self-absorbed shortstop who would go on to become among the greatest ballplayers the game has ever seen.
In 1896, Ed and Mary Hornsby of Winters, Texas, about mid-way between Abilene and San Angelo, had their sixth and final child. They named the boy “Rogers,” in honor of his mother’s maiden name. Two years later, Ed died, and his wife moved the family to Fort Worth where her older sons took jobs in a meat packing business. From as early as he could remember, young Rogers was involved in or hanging around baseball. Before he turned ten, Rogers had organized a team of classmates, and his mother supported his interest by sewing denim uniforms for all nine players. When he took a job as a messenger with the meat packing plant, he occasionally played on the company team, even as a pre-teen. And by the team he was 15, Rogers was playing semi-pro ball in Fort Worth.
Rogers was encouraged in his efforts to play baseball by his older brother Everett, a long-time and moderately-successful pitcher in the Texas League. In early 1914, Everett arranged a tryout for his 17-year-old brother with his own team, the Dallas Giants. Rogers played well and did, in fact, make the team. But by the second decades of the 1900s, the Texas League had become well established as a breeding ground of major league talent. Rather than use a roster spot on a developmental player, the Giants entered into an agreement with Hugo of the Texas-Oklahoma League to watch over Rogers and help him develop into a Texas League-caliber infielder.
The rest of the story is history, at least most of it. Rogers Hornsby played with Hugo until the team folded in June, then he played with Denison the remainder of 1914 and most of 1915. Hornsby never played in the Texas League, being signed away from Denison, now a Western Association team, in September. It would be many years before Rogers Hornsby wore another minor league uniform.
Between 1916 and 1937, Hornsby played for the Cardinals, the St. Louis Browns, Boston Braves, New York Giants, and Chicago Cubs. While not endearing himself to any owner, manager, or teammate, Hornsby put up some of the greatest seasons a batter has ever recorded, posting a lifetime average of .358 and three seasons in which he batted over .400. Hornsby’s 1924 batting average of .424 is the highest of any player in baseball history. In the meantime, he spent 13 years in the dual role of player-manager. While Hornsby’s fielded percentage was mediocre at best, his batting earned him easy election to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1942. Following his major league career, he returned to the minors as a manager for 11 seasons. With all of his accomplishments in baseball well-documented, one sliver of Rogers Hornsby’s career is buried so deep in century-old newspaper clippings, most all biographers have overlooked it.
When Dallas optioned its young shortstop to Hugo of the Texas-Oklahoma League on March 10, 1914, Hornsby did not immediately leave town. The Paris Snappers had come west to play some pre-season games against the much stiffer competition of the Texas League in Dallas and Fort Worth, and on March 15, Rogers Hornsby suited up for his first-ever professional baseball game. Facing the Fort Worth Panthers, Hornsby donned a Paris Snappers uniform at shortstop, batting eighth in the lineup.
The game was a tight affair, the pitchers dominating the opposition through six and a half innings. Ultimately, the Panthers broke through for three runs in the seventh and eighth inning and took the contest 3-0. Fort Worth managed just five hits on the day to Paris’ three in a game lasting less than 90 minutes. As for Rogers Hornsby, his professional debut was unremarkable. He batted four times without reaching base and recorded one put-out in the field. He had no assists, a rarity for a shortstop. In fact, Hornsby’s play on March 15, 2014, was so innocuous, his name wasn’t even mentioned in the Fort Worth Star Telegram’s account of the game with the exception of his line in the box score. For a player who would go on to reach base in 43% of his major league plate appearances, Hornsby’s debut with Paris was indeed a rarity.
Of course, Rogers Hornsby was not a stranger to Paris after the game against Fort Worth. For the remainder of 1914 and again in 1915, he made regular trips to Paris with Hugo and Denison, and he faced the Paris teams in his home park as well. But according to available records, Rogers Hornsby wore a Paris uniform only one day, a day that just happened to mark his debut as a professional. With that, we can add one more scratch in the remarkable history of baseball in Lamar County.
A story about a Texas baseball personality you’ve probably never heard of? Ask and you shall receive, and I doubt many are more obscure than this one.
John L. Highberger (possibly “Highburger”) was born February 16, 1872, south of Paris near Atlas. His parents, George Crawford Highberger and Louviana Susanna Stinson Highberger, and quite possibly his grandfather, John Washington Stinson, all died in 1879. The only confirmed date of death noted is for the elder Stinson, who passed away on April 10. Whether other family members died of a contagious illness or if a tragedy such as a fire led to the rash of 1879 deaths is unknown. Neither George, a Union Civil War veteran, nor his wife’s graves are marked, but both are believed to be buried in Brakeen Cemetery. In any event, until their deaths, the family lived on a farm in the area of Crowley Hill near Atlas.
John, one of four children of George and Louvinia, was raised by his maternal grandmother with the help of his mother’s brothers and sisters. Little is known of John’s early life; however, his brother DeWitt did die in Paris in 1900, just 27 years of age. By this same time, John Highberger had begun to make a name for himself in Paris’ amateur baseball circles, managing the local team and playing as well. While Paris did play home to a professional Texas League club at the time, no information suggests Highberger’s involvement either as a player or in team affairs.
When the Texas League left Paris for cities closer to Dallas and Fort Worth following the 1904 season, the city’s thirst for the National Game had not been quenched. While smaller cities throughout the country were beginning to be squeezed out of similar statewide leagues, it usually didn’t take long before a group of enterprising men from a few nearby communities began putting together a league of their own. Such was the case in early 1905 when Texarkana’s J.B. King and Paris’ L.D. Corbett set their sights on fielding a Class-D North Texas League. Initially, other cities interested in fielding teams included Denison, Sherman, and Clarksville. Likewise, Corbett, secretary of the league pushed hard for a Bonham team. In the few weeks between late February through the end of March, Denison and Sherman both lost interest, but Greenville agreed to field a team. With Paris, Texarkana, and Greenville dedicated to the circuit, one additional team was needed. Paris continued to push hard for a Bonham entry.
As April neared, and with the season set to begin April 25, pressure to finalize a league increased. L.D. Corbett made several trips westward along the Texas & Pacific Railway to lure representatives of the Fannin County seat to put up the $1,000 guarantee, a sum the other three cities had raised through stock agreements. Still, Corbett had been unsuccessful. As Paris and Bonham had long competed on the amateur baseball scene, and Corbett could see potential financial benefits from the natural rivalry, he enlisted John Highberger to visit the city and encourage his amateur contacts to pressure city officials into joining the league. Ultimately, Bonham opted to remain on the sidelines, and Clarksville entered the league as the fourth team.
The North Texas League, while generally successful in its first season, was short-lived. By the end of July, Paris relocated its league-leading franchise to Hope, Arkansas. The added travel distance forced Greenville to disband. Days later, a yellow fever epidemic in Texarkana did the same, and the league was left with teams in Hope and Clarksville. Three days later, the North Texas League called it quits. Since Hope had only played nine games in the league, the pennant was awarded to Paris, with Clarksville runner-up. Two years later, the North Texas League briefly revived, but the small circuit was soon supplanted by the Western Association and the Texas-Oklahoma League in Paris. In fact, Clarksville’s very successful 1905 season marked the first and last professional baseball team in the Red River County seat.
Over the next several years, John Highberger continued managing an amateur team in Paris that traveled to nearby cities like Bonham, Sulphur Springs, and others willing to put their local “nine” on the field against Paris. He also built a career as one of Paris early electric streetcar conductors then went onto become an engineer the streetcar companies power plant. In 1913, he married Minnie Kaiser in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and the couple settled in Oklahoma City where John continued his career in electric streetcars. Eventually, he became an electrician and lived the remainder of his life in Oklahoma City. John and Minnie Highberger never had children. On January 22, 1953, John L. Highberger, a Lamar County orphan, passed away and is entombed in an Oklahoma City mausoleum.
So, there you have it—one more Texan who impacted the state’s long baseball history, if not on the professional level, certainly as an amateur. Somewhere, it is likely that someone knows the full story of John Highberger’s childhood and what happened to his family in Atlas in 1879. And, if anyone does, I’d love to hear from you.
The Midland RockHounds defeated the Northwest Arkansas Naturals three games to one in the Texas League Championship Series in September. The RockHounds victory hardly came as a shock despite the fact the team finished the season’s second half seven games behind the Corpus Christi Hooks. As they have two consecutive seasons, when playoff time arrived, Midland ousted the Hooks to take the TL South championship. While Corpus Christi can claim 174 wins over the past two seasons, it is Midland that has proven the team to beat come playoff time. By capturing its third consecutive Bobby Bragan Texas League Championship trophy, Midland has accomplished a feat pulled off by only one other team in league history. Or, in reality, three other teams may be more accurate.
The Fort Worth Panthers of the early 1920s are among the most dominant teams in both Texas League and Minor League Baseball history. From 1920-1925, Fort Worth racked up six consecutive championships, and no other teams has come close before or since. Minor League historians Bill Weiss and Marshall Wright include four of the six Panther teams in their book, “The 100 Greatest Minor League Baseball Teams of the 20th Century.”
Fort Worth, an original member of the Texas League, had captured four championships over the course of the league’s first three decades, but when Jake Atz arrived as manager in 1914, the Panthers began to rise to the league’s highest ranks. They would remain there for nearly a decade.
After a pair of second-tier finishes in 1914 and 1916 sandwiched a third place standing in 1914, by 1917 the Panthers rose to second place in the league. They finished second again in 1918 and in the first half of 1919, then followed up the second half by taking first place. The 1919 team lost to Shreveport in the playoffs, but after having its taste of success, the Panthers went on a run during which they devoured both Shreveport and every other Texas League franchise.
The 1920 Fort Worth Panthers took both halves of the season, combining or 108 wins and besting overall second place winner Wichita Falls by 23 games. Fort Worth fielded four 20-game winning pitchers including 26 game winners Joe Pate and Paul Wachtel. The team then challenged Southern Association champion Little Rock to a series of games that changed the fortunes of the Texas League forever. After Fort Worth defeated Little Rock 4 games to 2, the National Association, a new governing body over the minor leagues, upgraded the Texas League to a Class A association. The post-season faceoff of the Texas and Southern League champions also became an annual event known at the “Dixie Series.” In its earliest years, Fort Worth dominated that series as well.
In 1921, Fort Worth picked up where it left off the previous summer. Joe Pate claimed thirty wins on the season and was again joined by three other twenty-game winning teammates. First baseman Clarence Kraft led the offensive onslaught, leading the league with a .352 batting average and 32 home runs. Once again, the Panthers claimed both halves of the season with a total of 107 victories, besting second place Houston by 15.5 games.
When Fort Worth claimed the Texas League championship in 1922, the team won 109 games, placing them 15 games ahead of Wichita Falls at season’s end. While Joe Pate posted a 24-11 won-loss record, Paul Wachtel led the Panthers with a 26-7 record. Clarence Kraft again led the team offensively, hitting 32 home runs with 131 runs batted in. In batting .339, he was one of six full-time Panthers batting over .300 on the year.
The Panthers slipped a bit in 1923, capturing on 96 victories in finishing ahead of San Antonio by 13.5 games. Clarence Kraft continued to pace the team with another 32 home runs and 125 RBI, but he led the league in strikeouts with 109. Kraft’s strikeout rate of one in every 5 at-bats paved the way for outfielder Jack Calvo to lead the team with a .342 batting average.
With four consecutive Texas League championships, the 1924 Fort Worth franchise reached full stride. Its 109-41 record left all other contenders far behind, the closest being Houston, which finished 30.5 out of first place. Shreveport claimed last place, a full 57 games behind the champions. Joe Pate again posted thirty wins. Kraft hit a league leading 55 home runs with 196 RBI on the year, posting a .349 batting average while still striking out at a rate of 20%. Kraft’s 1924 campaign of nearly 200 runs batted in remains a Texas League record to this day, with no player coming within 30 of his mark over the past 92 seasons.
As the 1925 season began, the Panthers had taken five straight championships led largely by a phenomenal pitching staff and Clarence Kraft’s bat. With Kraft having retired following the previous season, Ed Konetchy stepped in and filled Kraft’s shoes admirably. The first baseman led the team with a .345 average, hitting 41 home runs and finishing with 166 RBI. He also struck out a rate less than half that of Clarence Kraft. Three Panther pitchers won twenty games, led by Paul Wachtel’s 23-7 record. Jim Walkup fell just one win short of making the entire Panther starting rotation twenty-game winners. Once again, the Panthers claimed the Texas League crown, finishing seventeen games ahead of Houston. But, when Dallas tied Fort Worth’s record in the season’s second half, many wondered if the dynasty was about to meet its demise.
In 1926, Fort Worth finally fell from the top of the Texas League, finishing 6.5 games behind Dallas in third place, trailing San Antonio by three games. Joe Pate had left the pitching staff for the major leagues, and only Jim Walkup won twenty games for the team. Ed Konetchy was still solid offensively, but he too fell off with a .325 batting average and just 21 home runs.
Things took a turn for the worse after 1926, with the Panthers finishing the following seasons 25 and 20 games, respectively, behind the league champions. A year later, Jake Atz left the Panthers after fourteen years as helmsman.
Over the course of Fort Worth’s reign as Texas League champions, the team averaged 105 wins per season while finishing 19 games ahead of its nearest competitor. The Panthers also claimed five or six Dixie Series championships during its run, its lone loss coming in 1922 against the Mobile Bears.
Although not nearly as dominating, the Midland RockHounds three straight championships place them halfway toward equaling Fort Worth’s achievement. Time will tell if Midland is capable of such a feat. For the time being, though, they hold the distinction of being the only other Texas League team to win three championships outright. And for that accomplishment, the RockHounds are to be congratulated
Several months ago, I received a call from Tim Newman in Austin, a local baseball historian with an interest in the early Texas League. Tim was hoping I had some information on Gene Burns, a pitcher he had found played for Paris in 1902. I had no record of Burns having played in Paris; however, William Ruggles, long-time Texas League statistician, did note him as appearing with the team. So, I did a little more investigation.
As it turns out, if Gene Burns did play with Paris in 1902, it was for a very brief period and he was never listed in a box score. He did, however, play in the Texas League in future years. He appeared briefly with Fort Worth in 1902, followed by a stint with Houston in 1903. His best year came in 1904, though. While shuffling around the league, Burns posted a 24-9 won-loss record. He returned to Galveston in 1905, finally ending his career with Waco the following season. Complete statistics for Gene Burns are as scarce as information about the man himself. He did, however, pitch the first no-hitter in the history of the short-lived South Texas League.
Statistics and achievements on the field are interesting, at least to baseball historians, but Gene Burns is also a great example of what goes into the hunt for a long-forgotten personality who left little hint as to his life and what eventually became of him. As is often the case, a tiny nugget of information buried in the page of an old newspaper printed in tiny typeface provided the break in solving the case of Eugene Burns.
In early 20th century newspapers, ballplayers are only occasional listed with both their first and last names. At most, one will find a first and middle initial with a last name or sometimes just a nickname. This makes tracking down old Texas Leaguers extremely difficult, especially when a name as common as “Burns” is the subject of the search. After scouring the internet and newspaper archives, though, I finally hit pay dirt with an issue of The Galveston News in 1904. Most of the season the newspaper had included statistics on a player named “Burns,” but buried within a one paragraph article on the sports page I found gold. Gene Burns, the paper noted, worked in the off-season as a wholesale grocer in Fort Worth. With that bit of information, Burns’ life came into focus.
Eugene Frank Burns was born August 6, 1882, in Kansas. Unfortunately, his date of birth makes it difficult to track his heritage. He obviously would not be listed in the 1880 census records, and by 1900, he apparently had left home. The secret to his parents would like be held in the 1890 census, but those records were lost long ago in a fire.
Even though we can’t tell where Burns came from, there is a wealth of information on what he did over the course of his baseball career and life. In 1907, Gene married Effie E. Burns, a native Texan whose mother also hailed from Texas and her father from Arkansas. The following year, Effie gave birth to the couple’s only child, Eugene Arthur Burns (the small family another difficulty in finding information). The family resided in Fort Worth, where during the off-season, Gene Burns worked in the grocery business for a period spanning at least 35 years. By 1942, he had gone to work for the Texas Ice and Refrigeration Company also based in Fort Worth.
Following his baseball career, Burns remained involved in the sport on an amateur level, serving as an umpire in Fort Worth. But his focus remained on the grocery business that earned a good living for his family. By 1940, young Eugene had moved to Arizona where he became a rancher until World War II, when he enlisted in the Marines and served as a sergeant.
Eugene Burns died in Dallas on June 23, 1963 of a heart attack while battling colon cancer and high blood pressure. Effie went to work for Contact electronics following his death. She died April 6, 1979, and is buried beside her husband at Grove Hill Memorial Park in Dallas. Interestingly, the couple’s son died in 1972, just nine years after his father. He, too, died while undergoing treatment for colon cancer.
So, there’s an inside look into what it takes to track down a long-lost ballplayer who perhaps only Tim Newman of Austin was aware existed. Thank you, Tim, for offering the challenge. The hunt is the most entertaining part of the chase.
When Emmett Eugene Munsell arrived in Texas from his home state of Missouri in 1908, the fifth of ten children of an Ohio-born lawyer, the 19-year-old right-handed pitcher had big dreams of a future in baseball. Those dreams began in Nacogdoches where he played a few games of semi-pro ball before signing on with the Longview Cannibals. Through 1910, “Hick” Munsell was a Longview fan favorite, and when the Texas League came calling a season later, they were certainly sad to see him go.
In 1910, Munsell began his professional career with Waco, posting a 4-9 record with an earned run average well over 5.00. His accomplishments weren’t a whole lot to write home about that first season, but things would change in 1911 when he joined the Dallas Giants. That year, Munsell started 44 games and dropped his ERA to just 3.69 as he won twenty games for the Giants. The 326 innings he pitched in 1911 gave him an average of 7.40 per game up from 6.18 a year earlier. Still, Munsell had troubles in the loss column, equaling his victory total. The Giants finished the season in fourth place, but just seven games behind TL champion Austin. During the season, Munsell married, and he and his wife went on to have three children.
Despite changing leagues for the following two seasons, Munsell couldn’t raise himself about the .500 mark as a pitcher, posting a 17-23 record with Buffalo and Sacramento in 1912-13. By 1914, he returned to Texas, first signing with the Austin Senators and hoping to turn his fortunes around.
The return to Texas did nothing to improve Munsell’s luck on the mound. Spending a majority of the season with Austin, he posted a miserable 9-27 record, leading the league in both losses and innings pitched. In spite of the fact he allowed fewer hits and walks per nine innings than at any other point in his career, Munsell simply didn’t get the run support needed to win. His teammates couldn’t overcome the 4.5 runs a game he averaged, especially considering the Senators .234 team batting average. Still, Munsell’s .250 winning percentage bested that of the team as a whole. Austin’s 31-114 record (.214 winning percentage) placed them at the bottom of the TL standings, a full 67.5 games behind champion Houston. Likewise, Austin’s performance in 1914 ranks it as one of the worst TL in history.
With a mediocre career in the record books before the 1914 season, then a true TL debacle with Austin, Munsell was probably a bit surprised when San Antonio invited him to camp in 1915. No one is quite sure what happened to Munsell during the off-season, but his arrival in San Antonio was nothing less than phenomenal. The underachiever started 46 games, lowering his average hits and walks allowed to just 7.4 per game, four baserunners fewer than the previous year. Likewise, his ERA dropped like a rock to just 2.26. Most impressively, though, he pitched 381 innings in 1915 and finished the year with a 25-11 won-loss record, leading the TL in wins. The improvement of 15 wins over the previous season coupled with 15 fewer losses leaves Emmett Munsell’s turnarounds as one of the most incredible in Texas League, if not baseball, history. How did he do it? San Antonio wasn’t particularly powerful offensively, but they did score nearly four runs a game. And while Munsell led the pitching staff, both Elmer Ponder and Harry Stewart also pitched well. Overall, San Antonio finished in second place, 6.5 games behind champion Waco.
Unfortunately, Munsell’s success was brief, over the next seven years, he returned to his mediocre ways with a rising ERA in route to a 17 and 22 record. In fact, just a year after his outstanding 1915 season, his hits and walks per nine innings ballooned over 20 per game. Still the fact he pitched at all was remarkable, considering he claimed exemption from the WWI draft due to a “crippled hand.” Regardless, Munsell had one last crack in professional baseball in 1922 with Muskogee of the Southwest League and led the team with a 14-4 record, his hand apparently healed. He must have decided to quite while he was ahead, though, as he retired from the professional game at 33.
A year later Hick Munsell organized a new version of the Longview Cannibals, the same team he had left 13 years earlier, in the East Texas League. Munsell pitched and managed off and on for the next three seasons before finally calling it quits. Still, he remained active several years as an executive, helping organize teams in several small East Texas communities. At the same time, he entered the construction business, first as a surveyor and later a contractor.
Munsell never proved to be major league material, but unlike so many other Texas Leaguers of the early 20th century, he did get a shot. Following the incredible 1915 season in San Antonio, John McGraw invited Munsell to join the New York Giants training camp in Marlin, Texas. It was a brief stay. Munsell’s refusal to abandon his curve ball despite McGraw’s orders led to an on-field fistfight during an intra-squad game. The last curve ball that afternoon proved to be Munsell’s last pitch at the major league level, and he is not credited as having appeared in any official major league game.
On December 31, 1974, Emmett Munsell died of lung cancer in Longview. He is buried in Longview’s Greenwood Cemetery.
When William Edward Kemmerer left his home state of Pennsylvania in 1893, the 19-year-old ballplayer headed west to Kansas where a career in professional baseball awaited. At the time, it’s unlikely he was sure he would earn a spot on a Western Association club’s roster. The idea that he would go onto a 17-year career and play for 25 teams probably never entered his mind. Although Bill is remembered as a journeyman rather than a star, what he did one April day in 1918 is a record standing the test of time.
Bill did get his chance on his first trip west, playing in a handful of games for Lawrence and Topeka. It would be 1895 until he returned to professional baseball, though, when he arrived in the Texas League and spent 43 games at third base for the Shreveport Grays. His .406 batting average and eight home runs caught the attention of the National League’s Louisville Colonels, and they called him up. Just 21 years old, he couldn’t match his success in the minors. After just 11 games, Bill concluded his major league career with a .184 batting average. But as far as professional baseball was concerned, Bill Kemmerer had barely started.
Although Kemmerer played only partial seasons in 1896 and 1897 with Galveston and Sherman-Denison, he posted a hefty batting average. Houston was quick to sign him prior to the 1898 season and slotted him as their everyday first baseman. By this point, Bill had shortened his last name to “Kemmer” and arrived in Houston set on continuing his rapid rise within the ranks of Texas League infielders. And he did just as he expected, batting .366 through the early portion of the season before the Spanish-American War brought most baseball to a sudden stop. Still, it was on April 18 that Bill Kemmer had the biggest day of his career, one the visiting Fort Worth Panthers would never forget.
Heavy rains had hit the coastal area in the days leading up to the game, and when the teams took the field, conditions were barely playable. The Galveston Daily News described the field as wet and muddy, pointing out that shortly into the game the two teams’ uniforms had become barely discernible. Regardless, the mud or difficult footing had little impact on Bill Kemmer play.
Batting cleanup, Kemmer opened up his day in the first inning with a three-run homer. When Fort Worth responded with four runs of its own, the fans knew they teams were in for a high-scoring affair. Kemmer had added a single with his fourth RBI in the third inning. When he came to the plate in the fifth, once again two men were on base. Kemmer responded as he had in his first at-bat, blasting his second three-run home run of the game. The Buffaloes added two runs in both the sixth and seventh innings, with Bill singling to drive in two more RBIs, giving him nine on the afternoon. Finally Kemmer came to bat in the ninth inning and finished the game as he started it with another three-run blast. Houston took the victory, 16-10.
Less than three weeks later, the Texas League season came to an end after just 35 games. Galveston claimed the pennant with a 19-16 record, with Houston finishing in second place two games behind. But any thoughts of baseball quickly fell by the wayside as the country went to war. As such, the events of 1898 have never received much recognition in the history books.
But in the game against Fort Worth on April 18, Bill Kemmer did what no Texas League player had done before, batting in twelve runs, nine of them with home runs. His five hits on the afternoon led the Buffaloes, and he was equally effective in the field. Bill never duplicated his day again; in fact, he hit only one other home run on the season.
A year later, Kemmer returned to the Texas League with Galveston and batted an impressive .331. After 1899, he left Texas and headed back east for two seasons before bouncing around the country for the next decade, including two stints in the Texas League. His batting average and offensive output steadily declined with each year, and he finally called it quits after eleven games with Oklahoma City in 1910. After seventeen seasons, he returned home to Pennsylvania where he went to work in a paper mill. He died in Washington, D.C., on June 8, 1945.
In the 118 seasons since Bill Kemmer batted in twelve runs in a single game for the Houston Buffaloes, no other player has matched the feat. A hundred years after Kemmer’s big day at the plate, Tyrone Horne of the Arkansas Travelers batted in ten runs in even more dramatic fashion. Horne achieved the only “Home Run Cycle” in professional baseball history against San Antonio, hitting four home runs, including a solo shot, a two run and three run homer, and a grand slam. Horne’s achievement is recognized in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Kemmer, however, is merely a footnote in the Texas League history books.
Bill Kemmer never played outstanding baseball for an extended period; in fact, he never stayed with the same team for more than one season, opting to try his hand in different cities, different leagues, and different areas of the country. But for one game in April, 1898, Bill Kemmer stood on top of the baseball world. Today, he still holds the Texas League record for most runs batted in in a single game.
Until recently, the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR), held the official position that Frank J. Hoffman, long-believed to be born in Houston, was the first native Texan to appear in the major leagues. Hoffman, a right-handed pitcher, debuted with the Kansas City Cowboys of the American Association in August, 1888, a year after his professional career began with the Southern League’s New Orleans Pelicans. Between New Orleans and Kansas City, Hoffman played for the Austin/San Antonio franchise in the Texas League’s inaugural season and posted a 22-11 won-loss record with an incredible 0.70 earned run average. By default, it would appear that Frank Hoffman was not only the first Texas-born major leaguer, but also the first in the Texan to play in the Texas League (TL) as well.
After Hoffman left San Antonio for Kansas City, he was apparently dubbed “The Texas Wonder” by a sportswriter or teammate. But he was far from a “wonder” in the American Association. Hoffman pitched only 12 games for Kansas City, finishing with a 3-9 record and a comparatively horrific 2.77 ERA. Those 12 games represented the extent of Frank J. Hoffman’s big league career. The following spring, after being released by Kansas City, Hoffman signed with Denver of the Western Association then returned to the TL in 1890 with the Houston Mud Cats. Later, he left for the West Coast and was out of baseball by 1893. Circumstantial evidence led most researchers to believe Hoffman was, indeed, the first Texan to play in the major leagues, and likewise the first in the TL. This was largely considered fact until about three weeks ago.
Bill Carle, a baseball historian and member of SABR, recently completed thorough research into Frank Hoffman’s life. Though a difficult man to trace, Carle found documentation indicating Hoffman was not born in Texas at all; rather, he was a Mississippi native. So, the question is once again on the table. “Who was the first native Texan to play in the TL?”
When the TL formed, many of its ballplayers followed the league’s founder, John McCloskey, from Missouri and other Midwestern states. In fact, in the first two years of the TL, not a single player has been documented with Texas listed as his home state. But, many of the names on those early rosters have no associated birthplace. Fortunately, few “Smiths” or “Browns” are included, and researching the birthplace, or at the where the players were not born is not very complicated, although a bit tedious. Over the past few weeks, I have reviewed the rosters of all Texas League clubs in 1888, 1889, and 1892, the league’s first three years of operation, and I believe I have narrowed the contenders for the coveted title of “The Texas League’s First Texan” to four players. Interestingly, three can be traced to Texas’ most important city in the late 1800’s, Galveston.
First, George “Piggy” Page is a documented “Born on the Island” (BOI) resident, from 1873. Page debuted with his hometown Galveston Sand Crabs in 1892 then went on to play numerous seasons until 1908, mostly in Texas, either with the TL or a smaller circuit.
The next candidate also began his career in 1892 and played alongside George Page in Galveston. Claude G. Hardy was three years older than his teammate, but documents confirm he, too, was BOI. Hardy eventually pitched and played outfield for Galveston, Houston, and Waco. Hardy played five professional seasons, all in Texas except for a brief stint with Natchez of the Mississippi State League in 1893.
A third candidate is James P. Toohey, also a Galveston resident with records indicated his being born on the island and residing there his entire life. Toohey appeared in nineteen games with the 1889 Sand Crabs. If truly a native Texan, his appearance three years before Page or Hardy would likely clear the way for James Toohey to be the TL’s first home-grown player. But, one more obscure contender remains.
Wiliam “Billy” Koerps, a San Antonio resident officially recorded as having played in a single game for his hometown Missionaries on August 7, 1892, can be documented as having been born in Texas. Newspaper accounts suggest Koerps played for San Antonio’s railroad team, the Galveston, Houston & San Antonio railroad club, both before and after his TL appearance.
As interesting as it might be to declare Billy Koerps, a completely unknown player who barely even sipped coffee in the TL, as the first Texan to appear in a TL, unfortunately his debut in August, 1892, makes him the easiest to eliminate, as both Page and Hardy appeared earlier in the season. And, the Page-Hardy question is quickly answered with a glance at the opening day box scores of May 7, 1892. On that day, Claude Hardy pitched for the Texas Stars, a barnstorming team unaffiliated with the TL. George Page, on the other hand, was in the starting lineup for the Galveston Sand Crabs in their season opening loss to Houston.
So, the question of the First Texan in the TL, can be narrowed to two players, George Page and James P. Toohey. The answer lies with the true identity and birthplace of Toohey.
James Patrick Toohey was born around 1865 and initially began his baseball career in 1889 in the Southern League, first with Birmingham, then Mobile. Later in the year, he played catcher and first base with Galveston. But, when it comes to Toohey, records of his birthplace are contradictory.
A railroad engineer most of his life, James Toohey is listed in the 1920 census as living in Galveston and having been born in Texas in 1865. Then again, in both 1900 and 1930, the same James Toohey with the same wife, is listed as being born in New Orleans in 1862. The lack of census records for 1890 complicates matters. According to baseball records, Toohey played the 1890 season in Canada and 1891 in the Eastern Association. Combined with his 1889 play, the three seasons represent his entire professional baseball career.
There is no indication, however, of the James Patrick Toohey of Galveston ever playing professional baseball. His obituary only mentions his life as a locomotive engineer, and it does not include his birthplace. Likewise, Toohey’s son, born in 1908, is repeatedly listed in the U.S. Census records from 1910-1940 as being born of a father from Louisiana. Newspapers, in particular the The Galveston Daily News, never mention Toohey in connection with baseball, although he is often referred to on the “Society” page.
Ultimately, the evidence in confirming James Toohey as a native Texan, and the James Toohey residing in Galveston from the 1880’s through his death in 1935 ever having played professional baseball, is scant, and most likely in error. With that, George Page, a rookie with the Galveston Sand Crabs in 1892, can likely be designated as the first native born Texan to play in the Texas League.
In reality, the answer will probably never be known for sure. At some point, a team may have found itself short a player and picked up a local ballplayer for a game sometime in 1888 or 1889. This type of information is not easily found, however, and even if a Texas-resident has filled in now and then, there is nothing to say any was actually born in Texas.
Based on the evidence at hand, it would appear that George “Piggy” Page has wrestled the title of the “Texas League’s First Texan” from Frank Hoffman, an apparent imposter for the past 125 years. The next question at hand—If not Frank Hoffman, who was the first Texan to play in the major leagues? I’ll hold that for a future project.
Between 1896 and 1957, Lamar County claimed thirty-three professional baseball teams as its own. Paris, of course, was the center of baseball activity, and the city sported franchises in eleven different leagues ranging from the Class B Big State League in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s all the way down to the unclassified and short-lived Southwestern League in 1898. Over the years, hundreds of players passed through Paris either on their way to great baseball accomplishments or just for a brief respite from their regular jobs working the fields. Of all those players, only one, seemingly with no attachment to Lamar County, returned time and time again.
Earl Elmer “Red” Snapp was born in Stephenville in December of 1888, the second son of Hezekiah and Alice Snapp, who had arrived in Texas from Virginia three years earlier. The elder Snapp ran a blacksmith shop in Stephenville, while his wife tended to the couple’s boys, Carl and Earl. By 1908, Earl had left home and traveled 70 miles northeast to Fort Worth, where he attended Texas Christian University and played on the baseball squad. After two years of college, Earl decided it was time to take the plunge into the professional ranks, signing with the Texas Leagues’ Fort Worth Panthers. After three woeful Texas League seasons during which he batted just .226, he left Texas in 1913 and served as player-manager for three teams in Kansas and Nebraska. A year later, though, he returned to Texas, signing with the Paris Boosters of the Texas-Oklahoma League. Earl helped his team to a first place finish, although they lost to Texarkana in the playoffs.
In 1915, Red Snapp moved from the ranks of a player and part-time manager into a full-fledged baseball executive, with duties both on and off-the-field. He brought the Western Association to Paris, and served as owner, secretary, player, and manager of the Paris Red Snappers, the first of many teams bearing his name. The 1915 Snappers finished fifth in the eight team league, with a 66-66 record. In 1916, following the Paris fire on March 21, he briefly left the city to play and manage with the Oklahoma City Senators, but when Paris recovered and fielded a team again, he returned and finished the season as manager of the “Survivors,” a team finishing in last place, thirty-two games behind Denison.
Clearly a far better manager than player, after the 1916 season, Red Snapp retired from baseball, and for the next several years remained in Paris, a shoe salesman for Conway and Short, Inc. on the west side of the plaza. In the meantime, he married and lived on Pine Bluff Street, just a few blocks from Paris’ ballpark. Red and his wife, Maud, soon had two daughters, Elizabeth and Marynel.
By late 1920, baseball once again called, and the Oklahoma City Indians attempted to lure Red out of retirement to manage its Western League franchise. The following season, Snapp did return to baseball, but not in Oklahoma City. Instead, he organized his own franchise in Paris, the Snappers, in the Texas-Oklahoma League. It was here he entered his best years in baseball, as the Snappers took the pennant with an 89-38 record. In the championship series, they faced Ardmore, and with the series tied at four games and scheduled to resume in Paris, Ardmore refused to play. By default, Paris claimed the championship. The Snappers repeated in 1922, posting a 72-36 record before taking the championship series from Greenville in five games. Outfielders Chink Taylor and Joe Bratcher led the Snappers along with pitcher Sam Gray, all future major leaguers.
In 1923, Red Snapp took his team to Ardmore of the Western Association, a Class C League, one step up from Paris. Again, the Snappers claimed the League title, giving Snapp three consecutive championships. For Paris’ part, the city went on to field a team, the Grays, in the East Texas League, and grabbed a third straight title. After a last place finish in 1924, Paris again claimed the championship a year later, while Red Snapp managed Okmulgee of the Western Association. In 1926, he returned to the East Texas League, managing both the Marshall Snappers and Paris Bearcats for parts of the season. In 1927, he spent his last season in Paris and led his Snappers to a fifth place finish in the Lone Star League.
By 1928, with years of minor league experience under his belt, Earl Snapp decided to plunge into League management and formed the West Texas League. He placed his own team in San Angelo and claimed another pennant over the likes of Abilene, Midland, and others. After just one season, he left his brainchild and returned to the Lone Star League, managing the Sherman Snappers for only three weeks before the League disbanded. Without Snapp’s enthusiastic leadership, the West Texas League lasted only one season.
Over the course of Red Snapp’s ten years as a manager, he led his teams to five championships, including two in Paris, the first championship clubs the city ever fielded. He also became known as a prime developer of baseball talent over the course of his career, with nearly two dozen future major leaguers learning their craft under Snapp’s guidance.
In a 1928 profile in The Sporting News, Snapp was recognized as the “King of the Minor Leagues” in Texas, noting him as a one-man board of directors who had experienced success everywhere he went.
After baseball, Snapp settled with his wife and two daughters in Dallas. For forty-five years, he owned and operated Red Snapp’s Service Station at Cadiz and Marilla Streets in the downtown Dallas just a few blocks east of today’s convention center. He passed away January 3, 1974 at the age of 85.
“Where I go, pennants go,” he told TSN in 1928. Based on his record, Red Snapp’s confident statement was not merely a case of bragging.
Few mistook the 1897 Paris Midlands for a quality baseball club. Though backed by the deep pockets of Edward Howland Robinson Green, among America’s richest citizens, the Midlands just didn’t have the lineup to compete with the rest of the Texas League. Finishing the first half of the season buried in last place with a 21-49 record, few had great expectations for the second half, set to begin on June 29 at Dallas. Still, the entire purpose of a split season was to provide hope for baseball kranks of the “tail-enders.” Despite their miserable first-half performance, when the Midlands and Colts met at Fairgrounds Park, all eight Texas League teams entered the day on equal footing. Considering Dallas finished the first half just in one place ahead of Paris, Midlands fans held out hope the three game series might get their team off to a hot start.
Many North Texas farmers feared a coming drought for the summer of 1897, but June 29 dawned with hopes of rain. A southerly wind drove the temperature to the mid-90s by mid-afternoon, but storm clouds could be seen forming southwest of Dallas. Still, there was a ballgame to be played, and at 4 o’clock umpire Mackey signaled for the first pitch. The Midlands sent staff ace Charles “Daddy” Nolan to the mound. Nolan, described as a “fine little twirler” by the Galveston Daily News, came into the game with a poor win-loss record but a fine earned run average, his lack of success in the win column mainly the result of the Midlands miserable offense. In fact, just a few weeks earlier, Nolan had struck out 11 Austin Senators batters, a season-high for Texas League pitchers. He seemed just the pitcher to punch the Midlands ticket to a successful second half.
Paris batters stuck to their usual form that afternoon, notching just three hits and no runs over the first four innings. Charles Nolan while pitching relatively well, found a porous defense behind him. Despite surrendering just six hits on the day, the Midlands defense committed 11 errors over its five innings in the field, giving Dallas 11 runs on the day, only three charged to Nolan. First baseman George Nie, normally among Paris’ most dependable fielders, led the Midlands in errors that afternoon, but the true story of the game isn’t found in the box score.
In 1897, unlike today, the home team batted first. A full five innings had to be played for a game to be considered official. On June 29 in Dallas, the Paris Midlands found themselves down 8-0 after just two innings, and chances of a comeback appeared bleak. Dallas catcher James “Tub” Welch, just a .238 hitter on the season, slammed what the Dallas Morning News claimed as the longest home run ever at Fairgrounds Park in the first inning, and young third baseman Hoover registered a bases-clearing triple. By the top of the fifth inning, as storm clouds settled over Fairgrounds Park, the Midlands realized their best chance to call the afternoon a success would be to insure a rainout before the last inning could be completed.
When the Midlands took the field to lead-off the inning, they did everything possible to delay the game. The usual fast pace of late 19th century baseball slowed to a crawl as Nolan took his time between pitches, lobbed balls half-heartedly over the plate to eager Dallas hitters, and assisted his defense in committing a number of fielding errors even a schoolboy would have turned into outs. With two outs and the skies about to burst, former Midland Warren Beckwith reached base on George Nie’s fourth error of the game, and immediately attempted to steal second by walking to second in hopes of making the inning’s final out. As Nolan made no attempt to toss the ball to second baseman Elmo Jacobs, Beckwith continued his walk to third, passing William Peeples who stood with his hands on his hips. Finally, as Beckwith approached home plate, Nolan offered a veiled attempt to record the out, throwing the ball fall over catcher Dan Boland’s head and allowing Beckwith an easy run. By this point, the umpire caught onto Paris’ scheme and warned team managers Dan Boland and Bobby Burns to play ball or face a forfeit. Whether the managers relayed the order to their team is unknown, but Charles Nolan attempted to slowly offer the next batter a base on balls, pitching wildly outside the strike zone. The Dallas batter, now onto the Midlands plan as well, swung at all three pitches, and registered the final out, seemingly forcing Paris into a final at bat. As the Midlands strolled off the field, the skies opened and sheets of rain swept across the ballpark. Clearly a regulation game would not be played that afternoon, and the Midlands began to look forward to replaying the game from its start the following day, an unblemished 0-0 record still intact.
Unfortunately for Paris, umpires of the day had great leeway in applying the rules as they saw fit. As the rain turned into a torrent, Umpire Mackey declared the game official, with Paris forfeiting by an official score of 9-0. Dan Boland put up a feeble protest, but the umpire’s decision stood. By intentionally delaying play, Paris had manufactured an unofficial game, but Mackey refused to back down. Paris went on to not only lose that game, but six of its first seven to open the season’s second-half. Clearly, the split season would offer the Midlands no chance at redemption.
The results in Dallas did little to dissuade Paris from attempting to take advantage of what they believed was a loophole in the league rules related to official games. Under similar circumstances just over a month later in Galveston, the Midlands attempted the same strategy, this time as a means to a different end.
Although they had little chance of making a run at the second-half title, in Galveston the Midlands were far more interested in getting out of town with the $50 guarantee paid to any visiting team playing an official game. Ranking as the worst drawing card for any team in the league, Paris made far more money on the road than at home, and other Texas League owners dreaded their arrival, knowing the crowd would not pay to watch an uncompetitive game. In fact, in most cases, owners hosting the Midlands were lucky to earn any profit after paying the guarantee. But, the inconvenience didn’t deter the Midlands. Undoubtedly, E.H.R. Green had grown tired of losing money in baseball and ordered team management to avoid financial losses at all costs.
With the team scheduled to spend another night in Galveston before catching a train out to San Antonio the next morning, Boland and Burns realized a shortened game would allow for an overnight train ride, saving hotel costs. So, as Paris quickly fell behind the Sand Crabs, the managers looked to the skies and realized a short game would be to their boss’s financial advantage. As the Midlands put up little effort on defense in hopes the rain would soon begin, the umpire, apparently warned in advance of Paris’ tactics, immediately forfeited the game to Galveston. Mission accomplished. E.H.R. Green saved twenty dollars, and Galveston gleefully accepted the unearned victory as they fought for the league championship.
Limping into San Antonio early the next morning, the weary Midlands put up little fight against the Bronchos a few hours later and played with even less heart over the last 20 games of the season, which they finished with a 5-15 record. The Midlands combined 41 wins in both halves of 1897 left Paris as the cellar dweller in the overall standings, 34-1/2 games behind the champion Sand Crabs, and nearly ten games behind 7th place Dallas.
His endeavor into professional baseball a financial disaster and personal embarrassment, E.H.R. Green moved on to more lucrative pursuits the following year. He quickly built the Texas Midland Railroad, for whom he had named his baseball franchise, into a Texas empire linking the remote northeastern counties to Dallas-Fort Worth and South Texas. Undoubtedly the hotel costs he saved that afternoon in Galveston contributed greatly to his success.
The Paris News’ A.W. Neville’s recalled Charles W. Eisenfelder, 1902’s Paris Texas League team owner, as a “tall, gangly, and loose-jointed” man. After researching the elusive Eisenfelder over the past several years, I wonder if Neville directed his words less at Charles’ physical appearance than his eccentric and unpredictable behavior.
A native German immigrating to the United States his mother in 1867, in Galveston four-year old C.W. Eisenfelder seemed to begin a lifetime searching for his niche. Fancying himself an entrepreneur of sorts, Eisenfelder took an interest in sports and recreation as he grew older, and he became well-known, if not infamous, in the Galveston community. But, the sparse written records of Charles’ ventures reveal a man holding at least a touch of an inferiority complex and desperate to leave a lasting mark in Galveston’s crowded business and political circles.
When Charles came of age in the late 1870s, he worked in a grocery store to support his mother. At the time, three families controlled Galveston. The Moody’s dominated Galveston’s cotton trade and diversified into a number of endeavors, most notably banking and insurance. The Kempner’s made their fortune in the mercantile and banking industries, and the Sealy family involved itself in everything from the railroad to cotton to twine. Most notably, though, the Sealy’s essentially held a monopoly on Galveston’s wharf area, a highly lucrative venture in a city many considered the most important port on the Gulf Coast. Records suggest Eisenfelder resented the power the three families held over the island, and the ambitious young man slowly developed plans to do something about it. In the meantime, though, Charles entered the business community himself, hoping he might become the patriarch of Galveston’s fourth influential family.
As the years passed and Galveston’s harbor activity spurned Texas’ rapid growth, Eisenfelder garnered attention on a number of levels. His first reported business venture, the purchase of an already failing Galveston saloon in 1885, lasted only briefly. Less than three years later, Charles had set up shop as a book dealer and married fellow German immigrant Paulina Friedrich. After all, any gentleman expecting to become one of Galveston’s elite required a wife to make inroads in social circles. A year later the Jewish born Eisenfelder became a leader in Galveston’s Spiritualist Church. Perhaps not so much a coincidence, William L. Moody’s wife Libbie also attended the church as a faithful supporter.
After spending several years as a clerk with the C.G. Fordtran feed store, in late 1894 Eisenfelder bought out his employer and entered the feed and grain business on a full-time basis. Undoubtedly Eisenfelder expected his new business situated in the heart of the Galveston’s famed Strand business district would propel him to a higher standing in the community. And, it most assuredly did. The eccentric businessman made major news when he sued the Galveston fire department for its slow response to a fire destroying his inventory. The City soon returned the favor and sued Eisenfelder himself for refusing to pay his business occupancy tax, and a long-running feud between local government and Eisenfelder began. Charles had made a name for himself, but even he would have admitted his dreams weren’t progressing as planned.
By the late 1800’s, his feed and grain business a success, the ambitious but somewhat misguided Charles Eisenfelder entered the sporting world as a part-time boxing promoter. Although he became involved in the boxing just as Galveston native Jack Johnson began a climb toward worldwide fame as the eventual first black World Heavyweight Champion, it is doubtful Eisenfelder had any involvement in Johnson’s career. But, the sporting bug bit Charles like a starving chigger, and he looked to expand his sports venture into professional baseball.
If Charles Eisenfelder hadn’t become well-known in Galveston through his business dealings and as a boxing promoter, in 1899 he gained notoriety as part owner the Galveston Sand Crabs baseball team. The Texas League as a whole had ceased operations eleven games into the 1898 season with the onset of the Spanish American War. A year later, the North Texas teams failed to regroup, but the South Texas cities of Galveston, Houston, San Antonio, and Austin organized a circuit of their own known as the Texas Association, and the Sand Crabs dominated play. With Paris native Ben Shelton making his professional debut, Galveston took both halves of the season by sizable margins and claimed the league championship. The following year, though, both North and South Texas baseball lay dormant, as the professional game went on a two-year hiatus in the state. In the meantime, Eisenfelder returned to managing his business on the Strand.
Despite Charles and Paulina Eisenfelder’s home on Ave P-1/2 resting in the middle of the 1900 Great Storm’s zone of total destruction, somehow both the couple and their house survived. Apparently, the same could not be said for the C.W. Eisenfelder Company warehouse on The Strand, however. Though destruction on the bay side of the island didn’t come close to that experienced several blocks eastward toward the Gulf of Mexico, flooding waters engulfed the business district, and Eisenfelder soon discovered his inventory destroyed. By 1901, the C.W. Eisenfelder Company no longer existed. Charles remained undeterred, though, and made lemonade out of the storm responsible for the deaths of 6,000 fellow Islanders as he pursued a career as a full-time baseball executive. With Galveston still recovering from the storm and in no mood for baseball, in early 1902 he looked to North Texas and its reorganized Texas League for a franchise. For the bottom dollar price of $250, Eisenfelder landed the team assigned to Paris and began to prepare for a successful business venture in the small Lamar County city where he had never set foot.
Charles W. Eisenfelder arrived in Paris with the energy of the 1900 storm, boasting he had purchased a boxcar load of baseball gear and interviewed several hundred ballplayers. He emphatically pointed out he would only sign the most upstanding, well-behaved candidates to contracts. In an age when most Texans seldom used the words “upstanding” and “well-behaved” when describing baseball players, Eisenfelder probably sealed his franchise’s fate on the spot. He stocked his team with little-known talent, with the possible exception of Paris native Rick Adams, one of few bright spots in an otherwise impotent lineup. But, when the “Parisians” won seven of their first nine games, local baseball fans thought Eisenfelder might just be the solution to the city’s failed franchises in its two previous Texas League seasons. The optimism soon evaporated, though, as the team followed its hot start by losing 12 of its next 14 games. To bolster attendance, Eisenfelder added an additional Paris native to his lineup, signing Ben Shelton after his former Sherman-Denison team relocated to Texarkana. Though Shelton brought a strong bat to town, it was not enough to offset the poor hitting and sloppy fielding of his teammates. As the season wore on, the Parisians continued to sink in the standings, barely managing to keep out of last place the majority of the summer.
Sportswriters loved heckling the Parisians, and the daily jabs from the Dallas Morning News apparently ate at Charles Eisenfelder. As his team continued its swoon, he unilaterally announced he would relocate the franchise to Houston, an offense to both Paris fans and other Texas League owners who refused to approve a plan suggesting only one of the League’s cities in Southern Texas. Sportswriters piled on, substituting “Frenchmen” and “Frog Eaters” for “Parisians” on a regular basis. Unfortunately for Eisenfelder, his plan not only ruffled feathers among his fellow owners and sportswriters. Paris fan support disintegrated. Eisenfelder soon announced he could no longer afford to host home games, as he rapidly lost money after paying the visiting team’s $50 guarantee. With relocation already snubbed and a dissolved franchise not something the novice baseball executive wanted on his resume, Eisenfelder reached a decision bringing him fame among aficionados of baseball nicknames. Rather than risk losing money in Paris, Eisenfelder sent his Parisians on the road for most of the second half of the season. “Eisenfelder’s Homeseekers,” as the team became known, played only 15 of its final 56 games in Paris, predictably winning only 11 of its games on the road and finishing one game out of the Texas League cellar. But, Eisenfelder, not his opposing owners, consistently pocketed the coveted $50 guarantee.
Following the 1902 season, both Paris and the Northern Circuit of the Texas League washed their hands of Charles Eisenfelder. He returned to Galveston and assisted in managing the affairs of the Sand Crabs for the first few weeks of the 1903 season before selling his share of a franchise which never returned to its 1899 championship form, a failure Eisenfelder’s must have considered vindication. Charles bounced in and out of local baseball circles for a few years, ultimately partnering with longtime Texas League umpire, ballplayer, and manager Wilson Matthews in purchasing the 1909 Charleston franchise of the South Atlantic League.
Charles’ new venture may have taken him a thousand miles from Texas, but upon arriving in South Carolina, he immediately enraged his former colleagues, emphatically declaring South Atlantic League players as faster, more talented, and more disciplined than Texas Leaguers. He even went so far as to insult Texas League owners’ dedication to making baseball a respectable profession, noting the South Atlantic League demanded its players maintain a pristine public image and dress in fine clothes at all times. If in Texas, he added, the League’s ballplayers would easily be mistaken for bankers and businessmen. A San Antonio sportswriter answered Eisenfelder, pointing out his refusal to pay his former Texas League ballplayers salaries suitable to purchase decent suit of clothes as the reason he found the players on the East Coast so appealing. Midway through the season, though, Eisenfelder returned to Galveston as he and Wilson Matthews parted ways after repeatedly butting heads on team business matters. Once again, it seemed Charles Eisenfelder had overplayed his hand.
Upon returning to the Galveston, Eisenfelder immediately gained the public spotlight his longstanding jealousy of the Moody’s, Kempner’s, and Sealy’s boiled over. He touted a plan to remove city politics from the influence of the wealthy families and took a leading role in forming Galveston’s Progressive Party, a group of Islanders determined to provide the average citizen a voice in civic affairs. Pressing for a representative local government and a city commission elected on a ward basis, Eisenfelder’s grandstanding undoubtedly did little to endear him to the powers who built Galveston. Likewise, his efforts failed and the three families continue to battle for control of Island politics.
Professionally, Eisenfelder remained in a sporting business of sorts, becoming manager of the Surf Bathhouse. He advertised “The Surf Club” as an establishment for only the most reputable citizens of Galveston, attempting to appeal to the same class envy he had in promising Paris baseball fans he would sign only ballplayers local citizens would proudly support. The Surf Bathhouse, built over the water along Galveston’s newly-completed seawall, offered concerts, dancing, fishing, bathing, and boxing competitions for members only, with memberships set at $2 per year, or the bargain of $1 for six months. For a time the Surf Club succeeded, its distinctive architecture often pointed out as an example of Galveston’s sophistication and dedication to developing itself as a tourist center. Ultimately, the business proved no match for another of Galveston’s battles with Mother Nature. Its destruction in the 1915 hurricane led local leaders to consider prohibiting further construction beyond the seawall.
Following the Surf Club’s demise, Eisenfelder continued searching for his niche, first setting up shop as the local distributor of Reif’s Special soft drink, a “near-beer” produced by a Tennessee company hailing its three month aging process—“By Golly, It’s Good!” With prohibition just a few years away and Galveston transforming into a “Free State” where law enforcement largely ignored liquor, gambling, and other vice-oriented businesses, the demand for near-beer on the island disappeared. At this point, Eisenfelder decided to enter full-time into a business he had dabbled in over the years—real estate management. The Galveston Daily News editions of the 1920’s and 1930’s are littered with his advertisements of rental property throughout the city. Even while suffering with congestive heart failure, Charles continued his effort to become a force on the Island, if only as a collector of overdue rent. In 1937, Charles W. Eisenfelder died following a stroke. Paulina, his wife of fifty years, sent his body to San Antonio for cremation, eventually burying his remains in Galveston’s Evergreen Cemetery. Even in death Eisenfelder must have been disappointed. The Moody, Sealy, and Kempner families, after all, owned burial plots in far more extravagant cemeteries on the island.
Eisenfelder’s refusal to play home games in 1902 represented the beginning of the end of Texas League baseball in Paris. A year later, Ted Sullivan’s outstanding ball club bailed out of town at the season’s midpoint, and in 1904, two novice owners left their team in the League’s hands before the season came to a close. By 1905, with three consecutive Paris franchises failing to finish their seasons, Texas League owners no longer looked on the city as a viable location for a franchise. But, “Eisenfelder’s Homeseekers” keep Paris at least a footnote in Texas League lore over a century later. A.W. Neville’s intent in describing Charles W. Eisenfelder as “tall, gangly, and loose-jointed” will never be known. But, it’s doubtful Neville worried the frustrated businessman might dislocate his shoulder carrying a satchel of money to pay his ballplayers.