

Icame across a letter sent to me years ago by Bertie Hensley Wahlstrom. I enjoyed the baseball memory she had shared so much that I wanted to share it with you again! As Bertie tells the story, we get a feel for what it must have been like to be there.
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By word of mouth, we gathered enough teenagers from the north end (of Webb City) to form a (all-girls) team. There was no rhyme or reason as to who would play what position. I ended up on first base, and I loved it.
We made our own uniforms. Red shorts, sleeveless white blouses, white tennis shoes with red laces and anklets. And of course, a red cap. Our name was the Webb City Redcaps.
Our manager was John Grace, who lived on North Hall Street. He drove an ice truck, and that was our mode of transportation. We’d all climb in the back of the ice truck, and away we’d go.
Joplin had three girls softball teams: Marquart, Junge Bakery and an African-American team. Our group averaged about 110 pounds, and the Junge Bakery and the Marquart teams seemed huge to us. The pitchers and catchers had names like Butch, Chuck, Rip and Jackie. They delighted in accidentally knocking me off first base as they rounded the bases. After the first time, at 5’2” and 102 pounds, I was too agile for them!
We played Joplin and several surrounding towns. Our home base was Miners Field, located in the vicinity of the high school (North Madison Street). We always drew a good crowd because we always won. We even beat the Webb City boys softball team. We had no training… we just liked to play ball!
The event that stands out most in my mind was when we played donkey baseball. A gentleman traveled around with about a dozen trained donkeys. They played certain positions. Our men’s team had already played with them, and we couldn’t wait to follow in their wake.
We were playing Joplin’s African-American team on our turf. As luck would have it, the first-base donkey was a bit larger than the rest. She was almost white, and her name was Mae West. We had to stand a-ground, hit the ball, then jump on the donkey and hopefully ride the bases. We’d hit the ball, jump on the beast… and he would sit down! Or maybe not move at all! In the meantime, all the players were sitting on their steeds. They had to jump off, pick up the ball, get back on the donkey and throw the ball.
Heaven help us if the ball went to centerfield. All the outfielders were frantically trying to get their mounts to move toward the ball… for that matter, they were just trying to get them to move at all!
Needless to say, it was a hilarious show for the bleachers! They were howling and screaming with laughter. And we were out in the field trying desperately to get our steeds to do something! I’ve never had so much fun… before or since.
As I mentioned, Mae West was of good size. I had to jump up on my stomach, then get a leg over to get astride. I did this over and over. Apparently, the other team’s first baseman had been observing my maneuvers. She was quite tall, and when their team went to the field, she gave a big leap and landed on the other side of her mount… on the ground. Fortunately, she wasn’t hurt!
We played ball for two years without losing a game, until our very last game. We went to Wentworth for the last game of the season. Cool weather had suddenly moved in. We didn’t have gloves, except for our catcher. We were freezing in our cotton outfits. Both teams were shivering. Everything was fine until the last five minutes of the game. The other team got a run and beat us by one point. We girls were unusually quiet riding home in that ice truck.
What a fun memory of when Webb City had a “League of Their Own.”




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