When Gleason Wore Curls
Wright Cox, police stable sergeant, recollects "Kid" Gleason when he was a gentle little boy in skirts, wearing long curls, although it is a sure bet he never sang in a Sunday school class.
For a few years had hardly elapsed, when as Sergeant Cox recalls, he was the scrappiest "kid" in the Third Ward.
Cox remembers one occasion when Gleason was pitching for the Independents in the early 80's. On the way home they stopped in a tavern kept by an Irishman at Second and Taylor avenue.
Gleason had a banana stalk in his strong right hand. There was a colored ragpicker devouring raw oysters at the free lunch bar, although the oysters weren't free.
Creeping up behind the negro, he gave him a wallop on the neck with the banana stalk that must have made the poor "darky" actually imagine that the crack of doom had [illegible] boomed.
Wright Cox, police stable sergeant, recollects “Kid” Gleason when he was a gentle little boy in skirts, wearing long curls, although it is a sure bet he never sang in a Sunday school class.
For a few years had hardly elapsed, when as Sergeant Cox recalls, he was the scrappiest “kid” in the Third Ward.
Cox remembers one occasion when Gleason was pitching for the Independents in the early 80’s. On the way home they stopped in a tavern kept by an Irishman at Second and Taylor avenue.
Gleason had a banana stalk in his strong right hand. There was a colored ragpicker devouring raw oysters at the free lunch bar, although the oysters weren’t free.
Creeping up behind the negro, he gave him a wallop on the neck with the banana stalk that must have made the poor “darky” actually imagine that the crack of doom had suddenly boomed.
