Batter Up

Published Oct 6, 2020, 9:00 AM

When the unexpected happens, it often leaves curious stories in its wake. Today's tour has that in spades.

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Welcome to Aaron Menkey's Cabinet of Curiosity is a production of I Heart Radio and Grim and Mild. Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. Professional athletes are known for performing incredible feats. Basketball legend Wilt Chamberlain holds a whopping seventy two records, sixty eight of which belonged to him alone. Serena Williams has won twenty three major singles titles over the course of her career, coming just one win shy of Margaret Court, who has twenty four. And then there's Alice Roth. Alice holds an important record too, but not one she ever wanted. Alice's husband was Earl Roth, the sports editor for the Philadelphia Bulletin newspaper in the nineteen fifties. On August sevent nineteen fifty seven, Earl brought Alice and their grandsons to a Phillies game against the New York Giants. The family got settled into the press box behind third base while seven thousand nine hundred fans cheered on the teams. One big highlight of Phillies games at that time was center fielder Richie Ashburn. Anytime he stepped up to the plate, people took notice. Ashburn hailed from Tilden, Nebraska, which had earned him the nickname the Tilden Flash. He wasn't much for home runs or Grand slams. He was a singles hitter, amassing over hits over his nearly fifteen year career. He was also notoriously picky about what he swung at. You see, Ashburn liked to take his time. Sometimes he'd foul ball after ball until the perfect pitch came his way. This drove pictures up the wall, and his reputation as a spray hitter didn't help things either. Ashburn never hit the ball to the same place twice, so players all over the field were on high alert whenever he stepped up to the plate. On this day, though they would have been safe taking a breather. It was Ashburn's turn a bat. He gripped it tightly and waited for the pitch. Earl Roth and the other fans watched with anticipation. The ball flew from the pitcher's finger tips towards home plate. Ashburn swung and the ball went foul. Spectators followed its trajectory as it flew outside third base into the stands. They lunched, but it was all for nothing. One person was going to catch that foul ball that day, and her name was Alice Roth. There was just one problem. She caught it with her face. It's hard to say whether her attention was on one of her grandsons or she just didn't get out of the way fast enough, but the impact of the ball broke the woman's nose, forcing the game to come to a stop. She collapsed, bleeding from her nostrils. As stadium medical staff rushed to her side, they loaded her onto a stretcher as people looked on, Well, I'll except her eight year old grandson, Preston. He was busy trying to get the ball back that had hit her. He asked the man who had taken it if he could have it, to which the man replied, go to hell, kid, So much for the City of Brotherly Love. As Mrs Roth was being wheeled away, the game continued. Richie Ashburn still had to finish his turn at bat. The next pitch came fast, but it wasn't right. Ashburn hit it to his left along a similar path behind third base like his last one, except this time the ball did it land in the same spot as before. Sadly, this foul ball also found its way to Mrs Roth, whacking her on the knee. Ashburn had now fouled two balls and broken two of poor Mrs Roth's bones. They rushed her out of the stands before he could do any further damage. It all worked out in the end, though the Phillies beat the Giants that day three to one. The following day, and embarrassed, Ashburn paid a visit to the hospital where Mrs Roth was being treated. She assured him there were no hard feelings. It probably helped that she and her family were treated to free tickets, assigned ball by the players, and a trip to the team's clubhouse. Of course, once the grandkids got used to the start treatment, they couldn't go back to watching the game like everyone else. One of Mrs Roth's grandsons asked her if they could go to an Eagles game next. I suppose he just wanted to see what would happen if she got hit in the face with a football. It's probably safe to say that most people care about how they will be remembered after they're gone. Will they be missed? Did they help the less fortunate and set a good example for the next generation. Did they put others needs before their own? Ambrose Small never asked those questions of himself. By all accounts, he didn't care much for the opinions of others. Born in Newmarkets, Ontario, Canada, in eighteen sixties, six, Small head well small beginnings. His father, Daniel, had been an innkeeper for many years before taking a job managing a luxury hotel in Toronto. Daniel moved the family south for his new job. That was where Ambrose found his calling at the Grand Opera House next door. When Ambrose was around twenty years old, he took a position at the Opera House as an usher, a position that he held for several years. Unfortunately, Ambrose and his manager had a falling out, which prompted the young Mr. Small to seek employment at a rival venue, the Toronto Opera House. He became a fixture there, earning promotion after promotion until he eventually became the manager. By this time, Ambrose was earning a considerable amount of money so much, in fact, that he stepped in to help the Grand Opera House after it fell on hard times. He started to pay its mortgage, which gave him the authority of fire his old boss. The icing on a deliciously vengeful cake. For the budding businessman, Ambrose parlayed his ownership of one theater and management of another into a small empire. He partnered with Clark Whitney, the owner of several theaters in Detroit, to bring in more money. Then he invested those earnings into theaters in both Canada and America. Ambrose small was living large, with more than thirty theaters to his name. It probably helped that his wife, Teresa, had helped fund his rise up the ladder of success with family money of her own. Of course, as always, success brought its own complications. For one, Ambrose was a notorious gambler and philanderer. He'd often leave his wife at home for weeks while away on business. Much of that business consisted of betting on horse races and enjoying the company of other women. He also treated Teresa horribly, ignoring her needs in favor of his own. Despite how much she had helped him, Ambrose didn't give money to the poor either. Though he had come from a humble, hard working family, he treated those with less than him as if they didn't exist. He was not a man with many friends to say the least. Still, things were going great for him until nineteen nineteen, when he did the unthinkable. He gave it all up well for a price. See, Ambrose had made a deal to sell his theatrical holdings to Trans Canada Theaters Limited for a whopping one point seven million dollars. He signed everything over to them on December one. The following day, he met with his wife and lawyer at the place where his story had begun, a grand opera house, to finish their deal. That afternoon, Ambrose dropped his wife off at a local orphanage where she had been volunteering, and then he went back to wrap up the last of the paperwork with his lawyer. By five thirty that afternoon, the deal was done and Ambrows Small was one point seven million dollars richer. No one saw him after that. Now, given his history of impre onto business trips, he wasn't officially considered missing for two weeks. Mrs Small announced a reward of fifty dollars for anyone with information leading to the discovery of her husband. People came forward, hoping to claim the money, but none of their leads ever panned out. His disappearance was only part of the mystery, though. He had just come into possession of almost two million dollars, yet he hadn't taken any of it with him. There had been no sign of a struggle, no note left behind by kidnappers or even Ambrose himself. Still, given his history as a gambler and overall awful person, the idea that someone might have taken him or harmed him wasn't out of the question. One New York store owner received a note from an anonymous person named s H which read, holds Small until tomorrow morning. Don't let him go under any circumstances. Police searched high and low. They tore apart Small's home and dredge the Toronto Bay for clues, but came up empty. They even looked for leads in the plays being staged at his theaters, but didn't find anything. The authorities started building a list of suspects. At the top of that list was Teresa, who knew all about her husband's infidelity. She had a motive for sure, but the evidence wasn't there. There was also Ambrose's old boss from the Grand Opera House, plus all the people he'd stepped on to get where he was, and finally, his personal secretary, John Dowdy. Joudy had been known to bad mouth Mr Small for not paying him enough. Coincidentally, he had also gone missing around the same time. In Dowdy's possession was over one hundred thousand dollars in bonds stolen from Ambrose is Safe. Months later, he was found in the United States and sent back to Canada to answer for his crimes. Dowdy was not convicted for the disappearance of Ambrose Small, only for stealing the bonds. He claimed he was doing what his boss had asked him to do and only ran after Ambrose had disappeared. He served six years for his theft. Oka pas of the missing tycoon became well known all over the world, with police departments in Canada and the United States all taking part in their own investigations. Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was consulted, but the Sherlock Holmes creator chose to abstain from conducting his own search for the missing man. Although Ambrose Small was officially declared dead in nineteen four, people never really stopped looking for him. Almost two decades since his first appearance, Police and amateur detectives kept their eyes open for any sign of the elusive millionaire. Theresa Small passed away in October of ninety. One year later, Ambrose's sister, Florence, came forward with a letter written by someone named Reuter. It was a confession to the murder of Ambrose Small, detailing how his body had been disposed of. Reuter himself never came forward and was never found either. Ambrose Small was successful, powerful, and hated by almost everyone who knew him, a man who thrived on drama, both personally and professionally, and who understood the true meaning of the phrase you can't take it with you. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of lore dot com, and until next time, stay curious. Yeah,

Aaron Mahnke's Cabinet of Curiosities

From the creator of the hit podcast Lore comes a new, bite-sized storytelling experience. Each twice 
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