The toad abides: a (mostly true) historic joplin profile

My great great great grandfather crossed the Atlantic on a freighter made almost entirely of wood. Back then, they basically had indentured servants shoveling coal 14 hours a day to keep the thing running. They shoveled into the giant steam engines that slowly moved the giant sloth, like an enormous floating casket across the most dangerous oceans on the earth. The promise of a better life in America held just enough sway over the grueling labor and almost certain death. My great great grandpa almost certainly laughed in the face of good sense when he signed up to board one of those death traps-  simply so he could set up a humble makeshift wooden stand.

He fashioned it out of broken oars and shattered dreams and pieces of the only life raft on board, and glued it together with a paste he made from whale blubber and tears. He did it to fill a need; concessions. Those guys working in the coal pits got hungry. You don’t question the meats that come off of makeshift wooden stands when you’re that hungry. He cultivated a sense of demand. And so began my lineage.

His son sold concessions to civil war soldiers.

His sons’ son sold snacks and treats during both great wars.

My name is Clark. I am a concessioner. Like my father and his father before him. I’m going to tell you how I changed baseball forever.