Curveball: The Remarkable Story of Toni Stone The First Woman to Play Professional Baseball in the Negro League

by Martha Ackmann

  At midseason, Kansas City was on top in the standings and Indianapolis was in the cellar. The Clowns’ Ray Neil, however, led the league in hitting with a .416 average; Ernie Banks was close behind. Toni Stone had raised her average to .302, according to the Howe News Bureau.59 A few weeks later, Neil and Banks were still in the number one and two spots, but Toni had risen to fourth in the league with a .364 average.* Toni’s impressive hitting interested others besides Syd Pollock. A man approached Pollock and told him to talk to Louisville Slugger. “They’ll make a special bat—put her name on it.” Toni was thrilled, but Buster vetoed the idea. “The bats we’ve got are good enough for her,” she heard him say.60 By mid-July, the Clowns had returned to the East Coast for their second loop around the country, this time with games scheduled in bigger ballparks: Griffith Stadium in Washington, D.C., Connie Mack in Philadelphia, Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, and back to Griffith. Only New York and Boston remained unscheduled, and Pollock was working on possible games at the Polo Grounds or Yankee Stadium. After touring the urban centers, the team moved on to play in smaller cities before turning west: Reading, Wilmington, Newport News, Richmond, Chattanooga, Nashville, Columbus, Toledo, and finally St. Louis. The long season and the difficult travel schedule took their toll on everyone. Clowns pitcher Percy Smith dropped out with a knee injury after sliding into second; outfielder Verdes Drake broke his arm in the D.C. game; Speed Merchant, the team’s other star outfielder, wrenched his knee in Memphis and got benched; pitcher Ted Richardson fractured his ankle and was out for two weeks. “We had no doctors,” Toni said. “They’d just throw out that soreness in their arms [or] just slide over the swap positions when they got hurt.”61 Teams relied on home remedies such as “coal oil”—kerosene with a teaspoon of sugar—for colds and flu, and goose grease—drippings from a cooked goose—as a treatment for aching arms or legs. When a player suffered a deep spike wound and there weren’t any bandages or ointments around, someone would find soot from a coal stove and smear the gash with the black paste, then place a spider web over the dressing to seal it.62 All the Negro League teams had athletes too hurt to play. The Black Barons were so decimated by injuries that they hired two former players from the defunct Philadelphia Stars. Ernie Banks, after being scouted by major league scouts at nearly every Monarchs game, was no longer in the lineup, sidelined for two weeks with injuries.63

  During the Negro League midseason meetings in Chicago, league executives and club owners, including Syd Pollock, heatedly discussed Toni Stone. Pollock complained that pitchers threw Toni too many curveballs, knucklers, changeups, and screwballs. “She’s a woman but she’s capable,” Pollock’s son remembered his father arguing. “Just have your pitchers throw her fastballs only.” Birmingham Black Barons owner William “Soo” Bridgeforth and Tom Baird, owner of the Monarchs, accused Pollock of trying to compromise the integrity of the game. Pollock countered that if Toni were injured, fans would not return. “Then you can’t afford your teams. The league dies, and all these great pitchers got no place to pitch.” The club owners and club president Dr. Martin felt pressured. They voted, unofficially, to throw “hard but straight” to Toni. When Pollock also asked the group to forbid pitchers from aiming at her head, intentionally hitting her, and brushing Stone back, they agreed as well, unofficially. No one, it seems, asked Toni her opinion of the proposition or of the league’s vote. Had she known that Pollock asked pitchers to play her differently, she would have been incensed. Toni always wanted her experience in baseball to be professional. That meant treatment that was equal and fair. She also would not stand for being patronized. “Don’t worry,” she had told reporters at spring training. “I can take care of myself.”64 Ironically, when Pollock and his son watched Clowns games during the rest of the 1953 season, they didn’t think pitchers threw to Toni Stone any differently. Toni got “the same rotation or pitches as anyone else,” Pollock’s son said, and “we saw her hit the dirt more than once later that season.”65

  That July, Ebony magazine published a five-page story and photo spread on Toni that unfortunately did not help her efforts to be viewed as a professional baseball player. The feature had been in the works for several months and included photographs from spring training as well as staged shots of Toni washing windows at her home in Oakland, stepping out on the town, and receiving a rubdown from her husband. “Toni Stone is an attractive young lady who could be someone’s secretary,” one caption read. The article was a mixture of fact and fabrication. Her years with the Saint Paul teams, the San Francisco Sea Lions, and the New Orleans Creoles were accurately presented, but the story also included false or misleading details made to enhance her education and femininity. “She studied for a time at St. Paul’s “McAllister [sic] College,” the article said, and she is “an excellent housewife and cook.” Perhaps eager to please Syd Pollock or simply wanting to appear higher paid than she was, Toni told reporters that for two years she had refused Pollock’s offers to join the team. “I felt I wasn’t ready, but when he said $12,000 for the season, I reached for my fountain pen.” The feature may have gained Toni notoriety, but it treated her desire to play baseball as a curiosity. It certainly did not help break down or even identify the serious barriers she faced. Years later, she looked back on the feature as a mistake and wished she had not participated in it. “I was young,” she said, “and they were capitalizing on me.”66

  Second thoughts about her participation in the Ebony feature may have led Toni to be less available when a woman reporter in St. Louis wanted to sit in the dugout with her in the July game at Busch Stadium and talk about what it meant to be a woman in a man’s world. As she stepped out of the first aid room—her improvised locker room for changing into her uniform—Toni saw the reporter waiting for her. “Oh, no,” she said, refusing to be interviewed, “not until after I have played.” She’s superstitious that way, Buster said. If the team wins with her sitting on the right side of the dugout, she’ll sit there every night, he explained. Toni coached first base during the initial game of the doubleheader, and was animated with Clown runners on first and third. But when the Monarchs ended the rally with a double play, Toni stormed back to the dugout, sputtering to no one in particular. “You bring them in. I can get them on base but not farther.”67

  Also watching the game from the dugout was Deseria “Boo Boo” Robinson, who had joined the team four days earlier as another Toni understudy. Robinson, a twenty-three-year-old former player for the Capehart team, a semi-pro squad from Fort Wayne, Indiana, appeared shy and nervous and looked to Buster every time the reporter asked her a question. Like Doris Jackson, who had joined the Clowns two weeks earlier in Washington, D.C., Boo Boo would be gone before she had time to make an impression.

  Game two was terrible for Toni. She committed two errors and struck out twice. And even worse, Syd Pollock had come in from New York to watch. Back home in Tarrytown, his “Girl Player” folder was thick with letters of inquiry and applications.68 With all the publicity Toni was receiving, other women wanted to play with the Clowns or take her job. Despite the rousing ovation fans gave Toni at Busch, she could not forgive herself the mistakes. After her second strikeout, Toni returned to the bench and started to cry. “She takes the game too seriously,” Pollock said. “She knows the crowd came to watch her give a show as the only woman in the league and she was trying awfully hard to make one for them.” Trying too hard was a criticism Toni had heard before. She sat alone on the bench for the rest of the game and remained “very quiet,” the reporter noted.69

  On Saturday, August 8, Big Red was nearing Jefferson City, Missouri, en route to a doubleheader in Kansas City. The matchup would be the second time since Opening Day that the two teams had met in Blues Stadium, and Bunny expected another big crowd. Toni and the Clowns were tired from a quick jump to Buffalo and Pittsburgh earlier in the week and were trying to nap as they always did when the bus droned on. Another line of fierce storms had rolled through the Midwest two days before, and the dam
age still could be seen. A few hours to the east, hurricane force winds had knocked down a highway patrol radio tower in St. Louis. In a business district, glass from broken windows littered the sidewalks, and the ground was still saturated from half an inch of rain that had fallen in five minutes. The downed trees and debris created a “jungle-like scene.”70 The Clowns were glad that the bad weather did not seem to threaten their game in Kansas City. They were eager to play, and the season was turning around for them. Now in second place in the second half of the Negro League season, they were playing ball well above .500. Syd Pollock had returned to New York after the St. Louis trip and gotten busy with press releases, using a new phrase for promoting Toni. “She is murder minded in her effort to aid the team,” he wrote, “a tough sister on defense [who] asks no odds from men hurlers when she goes to the plate.”71 Hyperbole again blurred the line between fact and a good phrase.

  Everyone on the bus was in his usual seat: Ted Richardson, the next day’s pitcher, slept in the long back seat, stretching out his legs so they wouldn’t cramp. Bunny Downs sat near him where he could eat his ritual meal in peace—a concoction of pork and beans, sardines, onion, and bread. Spec Bebop, the team’s dwarf comedian, rarely sat. If he perched on a bus seat, his short legs did not reach the floor and his limbs became numb, so Bebop stood most of the time.

  Charlie Rudd, a former driver for the Birmingham Black Barons, was at the wheel. He had relinquished driving to Chauff some years ago but pitched in when the Clowns needed him. After four months on the road, Chauff welcomed relief from four-hundred-mile days. Already the team had been driving for hours that morning. Around ten-thirty, they approached the Osage River Bridge, a two-lane crossing south of Jefferson City. As usual, the milk can sentry sat perched next to Rudd, but there weren’t many directions to call out—just a narrow country bridge over muddy water. As Charlie steered Big Red onto the bridge, he saw a panel truck at the opposite end, politely waiting to give him a wide berth. “Fashion Cleaners,” he read as he aimed the bus between the truck and the guard rail.

  Behind the truck was a large tractor-trailer, its driver impatient that Fashion Cleaners had stopped. Unable to see what was holding things up, the tractor-trailer shifted into gear, swung around the cleaners’ truck, and accelerated onto the bridge. That’s when Milk Can saw it. By the time the tractor-trailer’s driver realized the Clowns bus was coming dead on toward him, it was too late. Charlie slammed on his brakes, but he couldn’t stop in time.72

  Father Charles Keefe.

  Boykin Freeman Stone.

  Tomboy Stone excelled in baseball, basketball, golf, hockey, ice skating, swimming, tennis, and track. One local newspaper reported that “Miss Stone” is “always taking away honors.”

  Charles Evard “Gabby” Street.

  Jack’s Tavern, San Francisco.

  Toni Stone on the San

  Francisco Sea Lions, 1949.

  Louis Armstrong’s appearance in the 1949 Mardi Gras Zulu parade, which sparked controversy.

  (right) The San Francisco Sea Lions’ posters highlighted their two gate attractions.

  From left to right: Negro Southern League president Dr. W. S. Martin, A. B. Harvey, Toni Stone, an unidentified promoter, and public relations representative Matty Brescia at the 1949 Negro Southern League All-Star Game.

  Toni Stone met Joe Louis during her 1950 season with the New Orleans Creoles.

  (above) Aurelious Pescia Alberga.

  Indianapolis Clowns team owner Syd Pollock gave Henry Aaron his start in the Negro League.

  Toni with her husband, Aurelious Pescia Alberga.

  Toni with Buster Haywood, manager of the 1953 Indianapolis Clowns.

  1953 Indianapolis Clowns Toni Stone (middle), second baseman Ray Neil (left), and outfielder Henry “Speed” Merchant (right).

  The 1953 Indianapolis Clowns finished third in the Negro American League. Toni Stone is fourth from left in the front row.

  Toni Stone, Ebony magazine 1953.

  Jackie Robinson with Indianapolis Clowns business manager McKinley “Bunny” Downs.

  Connie Morgan at her tryout for the Indianapolis Clowns with Jackie Robinson.

  Pitcher Mamie “Peanut” Johnson, 1954.

  Kansas City Monarchs manager, Buck O’Neil.

  Toni Stone publicity photo for the 1954 Kansas City Monarchs.

  The Kansas City Monarchs’ bus fire, 1954. Toni Stone is kneeling in the front row, far left.

  Toni Stone (right) and her sister Blanche Stone Devarga on the front steps of Toni’s Oakland home.

  Seated in front is Toni’s niece, Maria Bartlow-Reed. In rear (second from left) are Toni’s sister Bernous “Bunny” Stone Bell, Toni, and her mother, Willa Maynard Stone.

  Toni wrote on the back of this photograph: “This is Poppie and the boss of the house Fuzzy and a friend.”

  National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Cooperstown, NY

  Satchel Paige.

  In the early 1970s, the San Francisco Giants invited Toni to throw out the first pitch.

  When Baseball’s Hall of Fame and Henry Aaron recognized Negro League players in 1991, Toni Stone became overcome with emotion.

  *What some called promotional gimmicks were not limited to the Negro League. Many believed Bill Veeck, owner of the St. Louis Browns in the major leagues, pushed baseball closer to entertainment than Syd Pollock did. Veeck also used clowns to pump up the crowd and once sent in dwarf Eddie Gaedel to pinch-hit. Another time, Veeck called on fans to help manage a Browns game by asking them to hold up placards from the grandstand calling for a “Bunt” or “Hit and Run.”

  *Two of the pitchers who left the Clowns in 1953 were James and Leander Tugerson, who signed with the Hot Springs [Arkansas] Bathers, becoming the first black players to integrate the Cotton State League. League officials and other teams in the league said segregation had to be upheld and that black players could not play against white teams in the South. Mississippi Attorney General J. P. Coleman got into the debate and ruled that if the Tugersons pitched against white teams in his state, he was sure “such proposed exhibitions would violate the public policy of Mississippi.” The Tugerson brothers, Air Force veterans who accounted for over twenty wins with the Clowns in 1952, became the subjects of editorials in black newspapers across the country. “[Georgy] Malenkov, Joe Stalin, and Adolph Hitler could play ball in Mississippi if they were good enough to make a team,” the Chicago Defender wrote in an April 11, 1953, editorial. “But a black boy who fought to keep Missis-sippians safe from the Nazi hordes is denied this privilege.”

  *According to Pollock’s son, Syd increased Toni Stone’s salary during the 1953 season to $350 a month and eventually $400 a month, making her the highest paid Indianapolis Clowns player (Alan Pollock with James A. Riley, editor, Barnstorming to Heaven: Syd Pollock and His Great Black Teams, Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2006, 243).

  †Toni told her family that in her early days in the Bay Area, she played pickup games with the DiMaggio brothers. In 1992, Stone repeated the story to Oakland Tribune columnist Miki Turner. Stone told Turner that she shagged balls in Golden Gate Park and worked out with Vincent DiMaggio. I have been unable to confirm or deny Stone’s story (Maria Bartlow-Reed interview with the author, March 10, 2008; Toni Stone interview with Miki Turner. Turner’s interview notes shared with author July 10, 2009).

  *Pollock was forcibly removed from the Clowns bus in the early 1930s when Alabama troopers insisted he obey state segregation laws (Alan Pollock with James A. Riley, editor, Barnstorming to Heaven: Syd Pollock and His Great Black Teams, Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2006, 88).

  *Since the Negro League season did not officially begin until May 15, 1953, preseason games with other league clubs (the Monarchs, the Memphis Red Sox, and the Birmingham Black Barons) were recorded as exhibition games.

  *The Clowns’ team comedians were King Tut (Richard King), Spec Bebop (Ralph Bell), and later Ed Hamman. They performed before the game and i
n between innings and did not play baseball on the team. Tut was a vocal critic and cheerleader for the Clowns. At times he berated them as the “sorriest bunch I ever saw” and later praised them as “the best baseball club ever.” King Tut was similarly opinionated about Toni Stone, often telling her, “Shit, woman. You can’t play no ball. You ought to be home washing dishes” (Alan Pollock with James A. Riley, editor, Barnstorming to Heaven: Syd Pollock and His Great Black Teams, Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2006, 114, 244–245).

  *Forecasters were right. On June 9 while in Hopkinsville, Kentucky, the Clowns received word of another storm following them. The day before, 115 people had been killed in Flint, Michigan. As tornadoes moved across the Great Lakes and into New England, one touched down in Worcester, Massachusetts, on June 9, causing ninety-four deaths and nearly 1,300 injuries. The debris field from the storm was so vast that people fifty miles away reported seeing first oak leaves, then rags and shingles, and finally insulation and clapboard planks rain down. Pieces of a frozen mattress were found in Boston Harbor nearly an hour away from Worcester. The year 1953 proved to be the worst season for tornado deaths in U.S. history.