Titusville, PA – July 12th, 1894
The playful shrieks of children in the streets rang out through the midsummer air in Titusville. Their shrieks clashed with the morning song of several persistent birds. As soon as the disjointed melody between the children and birds started to die down, it would soon pick back up again. Meanwhile, the bright morning sun took its righteous place in the rich blue sky of Western Pennsylvania.
The Colfax residence was quiet, as usual. After all, it was home to only one inhabitant. Chester Colfax, deep in slumber just a few minutes ago, had finally woke up to start his day. The fragile man lifted himself from his bed and stumbled down into his living room, still groggy and half-asleep. He squinted as he tried to decipher the time on his grandiose grandfather clock, a family heirloom that had endured several generations.
As his vision steadied, Chester sighed. The clock read 10:13 in the morning, much later than Chester would have guessed. He was supposed to be at the oil field by 8 AM.
Despite him running late, Chester moved with no urgency. Tardiness was nothing new to him. In fact, he had made somewhat of a routine out of being late.
After Chester had finally prepared himself to leave, he emerged from his front door into the oppressive summer heat and began his 20 minute walk to work.
————————-
Chester had never been late for work a day in his life up until 1892. His tireless work ethic everyone knew him for also came to a screeching halt right around this time, and it’s no secret as to why. In 1892, Chester’s beloved wife Eunice had tragically passed away from a bout with pneumonia. Ever since that dark time, Chester had been a shell of the man he once was. Chester’s former enthusiasm, loved by all, had been erased. He never learned to cope with his loss and found it impossible to move on.
In fact, one of the reasons it took so long for Chester to leave his house each morning was because he would converse with a framed picture of his beloved Eunice at the start of every day. Part of Chester still believed that Eunice was there as he stared into her frozen eyes wistfully.
Chester’s workers at the Colfax Oil Company never questioned him or attempted to overstep his boundaries. They held for him a great deal of compassion and knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
Chester’s self-imposed responsibility at his job was to play the role of field supervisor. Chester, hampered by his fragility, was no longer a productive team member. He used to be willing to get his hands dirty. He used to be willing to work right alongside all those who had helped to build his fortune. No longer.
In fact, one of the mottos that he lived by was that he would never expect his workers to do something that he was unwilling to do himself.
But those days were long gone. Chester internally resented himself for his departure from the motto, but never did what was necessary to restore his belief in it.
————————-
Little did Chester know that his commute to work on a muggy morning in mid-July would change his life. Lately, Chester had taken notice of a group of young boys who often played in a park that was on his way to work. He was particularly intrigued with what exactly it was that the young boys were doing.
Much to Chester’s delight, the boys were at the park once again. He stopped a moment and observed. One boy threw a ball, another attempted to hit it, and if the ball was in play, the boy who hit the ball would run with glee around the stations that they had set up. Though it was foreign to him for the most part, Chester was filled with a sense of joy. He approached the young men.
“Are you boys playing baseball?”
“Yes we are. It sure is a lot of fun!” The young boy that responded to Chester grinned from ear-to-ear.
The boy’s smile made Chester feel at ease. He continued, “I’ve heard much about this game but have never taken the time to understand it. Would you boys be so kind as to teach an old coot like me how to play baseball?”
The boys were thrilled to let someone else in on their game. They went on to explain to Chester the rules to the best of their ability. In truth, Chester didn’t learn much from what seemed like gibberish that came out of the boy’s mouth. They were young boys, to be fair. But what Chester extracted from that interaction was something he hadn’t felt in years – passion.
Chester was invigorated by the idea of baseball and wanted to involve himself with it in some way. He just wasn’t sure how he’d go about doing it.
————————-
A few months later, Chester settled in to read the November 11th, 1894 edition of The Sporting Times. Chester scanned the title of the featured article in disbelief. It read, “Rumor of a New League Sparks Hope.” As he learned, the competition to own a team in this potential new baseball league was fierce – “Several herculean obstacles lay before the feet of many organizations vying for control of a “national” baseball organization—the greatest of which is organizing the funds and vast horde of independent ball clubs across the nation.”
Chester knew he had the necessary financial standing to purchase his own club and did not want this incredible opportunity to slip through the cracks. From that point forward, he committed himself to doing anything it took to establish his own baseball club. Chester submitted an offer for ownership of a team and waited impatiently for a response from the office of the commissioner.
————————-
Chester’s offer was competitive, and therefore it was entertained. As a result, Chester’s next step in starting his baseball journey would be to meet with Legacy Baseball League commissioner Alexander Madigan at his headquarters in Manhattan in order to discuss some of the logistics. After the men had worked through the tedious details, they shook each other’s hands and made it official – Pittsburgh would be home to one of the LBL’s 16 inaugural franchises.
Madigan couldn’t help but ask – “What will you name your new franchise, Mr. Colfax?”
Chester was prepared for this question. “The Oilers, sir.”
It was an apt name considering the decades of work that Chester performed in the oil fields.
In 1895, Chester retired from his role as supervisor at the Colfax Oil Company. He sold ownership of the company to his nephew, Chris. In doing so, Chester was able to invest his full attention toward baseball.
While it’s true that the Oilers have not enjoyed much success since their birth, Chester has made it clear that he hasn’t regretted one minute of his baseball life. After years of despair, it turned out to be the formation of the Legacy Baseball League that rescued Chester from his paralyzing emotional rut.
Most of all, Chester is overjoyed that he finally has something uplifting to share with his beloved Eunice.