CINCINNATI — The Savannah Bananas are back in Cincinnati, but this year they face a new opponent: the Indianapolis Clowns.

The Clowns were implemented into Banana Ball this season to honor the original Negro League team that played from the 1930s to 1989. The team also had stints in Miami (Florida) and here in Cincinnati as the Ethiopian and Cincinnati Clowns.

So, when 93-year-old West Chester resident Myra Merchant heard the Clowns were coming to town, she said she was shocked.

“It brings back a lot of beautiful memories,” she said.

Merchant’s husband, Henry Lewis “Speed” Merchant, was an outfielder for the original Clowns team. He coined the nickname “Speed” because of his pace on the bases.

WATCH: Meet the family of Indianapolis Clowns legend Henry Lewis “Speed” Merchant

The Savannah Bananas are back in Cincinnati, but their opponents hit home for one family

In 1950, he won the title for most stolen bases in a single season with 45 bases stolen in 80 games.

“(He) was a hell of a ball player,” Merchant said of her late husband. “He could run, he was a beautiful runner.”

“Speed” died of prostate cancer in 1982, but even four decades later, at the Merchant family’s table, sit dozens of photos and memorabilia — a physical record of a legacy Merchant refuses to let fade.

Noelle Blumel

Advertisement

“I can’t help it, it’s part of history,” she said. “I thank God he had a chance to prove himself in the Negro League.”

Their three children, Charisse, Herma Jean and Rashawn Merchant, still live in the Cincinnati area as well and remember the tricks he used to do as a player.

“They came up with tricks (like) hiding the ball and digging into the dirt and coming up (with it),” Charisse said.

Charisse added that even after his time as a player, their father would still perform the tricks from time to time.

“He just knew how to do so many things,” Rashawn said. “He could take the baseball and roll it down his shoulder… could catch the ball behind his back, over his head.”

Myra Merchant

Myra said the tricks, in addition to the baseball, made the games a joyful spectacle.

“There was laughter and fun in the game, the way they played it, and it was enjoyable,” Merchant said.

That enjoyment, however, came with adversity. The Clowns often had to perform in the face of open discrimination.

“It was rough,” Charisse said. “(Going to) certain places to eat, they would send whoever was the lightest-skinned guy on the team. He would go to the back and get the sandwiches or whatever to eat.”

The hostility didn’t stop there.

“Players being thrown ice, (patrons) would throw the bottles at them,” Charisse said. “But (the players) kept going and they would win the game and hurry up and get on the bus.”

Charisse added that sometimes the players could not change out of their jerseys after games because they had to leave the hostile environment immediately to avoid things escalating.

Myra described the era with unflinching clarity.

“Prejudice, back in the, the ’30s and ’40s, and even a lot of times in the ’50s, that prejudice was still there,” she said. “And you had to endure it, take it, smile and keep going.”

When asked what made the players want to keep going, Myra’s answer was immediate.

“I’ll put it this way, our Lord came here, and he knew what he had to endure,” she said. “He kept going, and that’s what the Black man has done. He kept going. Because had he stopped, where would he have been today?”

Charisse and Rashawn echoed that sentiment.

“He loved the game. It was just in his blood, and that’s what he wanted to do,” they said.

Now with a new generation of the Clowns making headlines, the Merchant family said their hope is that the fans and players know about the pioneers who wore the name first.

Rashawn Merchant

“I thank God because it lives on. He’s part of history. And it lives on through the children and every Black player. Every Black man that came through hell,” Myra said.

Charisse and Rashawn said they want that history to be part of the celebration.

“Just remember that it started through a lot of hardship, that it wasn’t all fun and games,” Rashawn said. “There’s a history there and all of it’s not the best, but they made the best of what they had.”

Myra said the struggles they went through, though grueling, are part of what makes America a great country.

“They were part of America. That’s what makes America great, and it is a great country,” she said. “This is a melting pot of beautiful colors. She have her problems — What country has none? But we can solve them together, united as one.”

This story was reported on-air by a journalist and has been converted to this platform with the assistance of AI. Our editorial team verifies all reporting on all platforms for fairness and accuracy.

CLEVELAND, Ohio (WOIO) – Ohio’s second Buc-ee’s has been approved south of Cleveland in Richland County, but neighbors next door are not happy.

An online petition opposing the location has over 1,800 signatures, the petition is unnamed. Among those opposed is the Stadelman’s, a farming family right next to the field, who will go from a quiet rural exit to a popular destination.

Related Content

• Plans approved for Buc-ee’s travel center in Northeast Ohio
• Buc-ee’s travel center coming to Northeast Ohio

Rachel Stadelman and her husband Nick farm the land bordering the future Buc-ee’s site. All that separates them is a gravel road.

From farmland to gas pumps

Right now, the exit is farmland on every corner. But Buc-ee’s is betting on the interstate traffic. The Texas-based travel center has become like a tourist destination.

The same 37.5 acres the Stadelmans lease and farm today will be over 100 gas pumps by 2028.

“I don’t know how we’re going to do it. Most of our farms are in Mansfield, so we have to go right through all of it,” Rachel Stadelman said.

Safety concerns on the highway

The Stadelmans raise cattle right next to the proposed site. They drive farm equipment, like tractors, trailers and combines on highway 39, the same route that will carry Buc-ee’s visitors every day. Some of that equipment is 16 feet wide.

“My husband’s been hit out here. He was on a smaller utility tractor. It broke a vertebra in his back. And I was in a hayfield heading toward Lucas, probably a quarter mile down the road, and I got hit,” Rachel Stadelman said.

Rachel Stadelman, emotional at times, said she fears what comes next for her family.

“The girls are just used to running around wild out here with me. Now I’m going to be scared of leaving them for a second. They’re going to have to stay with me all day. I won’t be able to take my eyes off of them. It just makes me sick,” she said.

Economic impact vs. farming future

Supporters point to the economic impact. Mansfield’s mayor Jodie Perry posted on social media after the council approved the project on June 2, saying Buc-ee’s will be a major economic boost for the city.

Buc-ee’s by the numbers, according to Perry:

• Buc-ee’s will spend $50 million to build the store
• $25 million in annual sales
• Up to 225 full-time jobs and 200 part time jobs (starting pay $18/hour
• Annual payroll is expected be $9 million

The city approved a financing deal through a New Community Authority. Under the agreement, Buc-ee’s will front the cost of building the necessary infrastructure, then get reimbursed through a 2% surcharge on retail sales at the store, excluding fuel. Of that 2%, the vast majority goes back to Buc-ee’s to cover its infrastructure costs, plus 6.35% interest. Once those costs are fully paid off, the surcharge drops to a quarter percent.

But for the Stadelmans, the math doesn’t add up.

“I don’t know how we’re going to farm anymore. I think it’s going to put us out of business,” Rachel Stadelman said.

Buc-ee’s did not respond to a request for comment.

In Lincoln, Ill., another pillar just fell. The New York Times’ Julie Bosman reports that the state plans to close Logan Correctional Center, a women’s prison that employs more than 500 people, stripping the Route 66 town of about 13,000 of one of its last major, stable job sources. State officials say the nearly century-old complex is too deteriorated to fix and will be replaced by a new, modern facility in Crest Hill, outside Chicago. Capitol News Illinois reports the Illinois Department of Corrections estimates it’ll take five years to build the new prison.

In Lincoln, where factories, a glass plant, and even a 157-year-old college have already called it quits, that decision feels like one more hit—and one that favors the Chicago area over downstate. Residents and local leaders, who spent years lobbying to keep the prison, now worry about a fresh wave of departures as families follow jobs elsewhere, further straining schools and small businesses already on the edge. For a look at what the loss of a single prison means for one Midwestern town—which takes particular pride in the fact it was uniquely named for Abraham Lincoln before he became president—read the full piece.