Chapter 2 1913-1930

Pap was developing a successful law practice, but this was not enough to satisfy his extrovert nature. He decided to go into politics. And it became a long-term commitment. Between 1913 and 1951, Pap attended every session of the Indiana Legislature, either as a member or a lobbyist. He was elected to the House in 1913 and 1915, following with two six-year terms in the Senate. In 1927, he was Minority Floor Speaker for the Senate. He was never defeated in any of his races for the Legislature, which spoke well for a Democrat running in a predominantly Republican district.

Pap's bipartisan equanimity as well as his developing sense of humor was reflected in a letter of recommendation on behalf of a young Republican who had the good sense to vote Democratic.

Public speaking goes with politicking, and Pap developed a flair for this too. He was much in demand as a speaker before service clubs and other organizations, and his light-hearted, homespun populist style was even compared to that of the great Will Rogers. Anecdotes of life in small-town Russellville figured large in his material. The letter titled, "Hazards of Trying a Comeback" is an example-this lengthy epistle was by way of an apology for not being able to appear in person before a group, but a version of it was undoubtedly spun from a podium or two on other occasions.

Pap's sense of humor, generously tinged with irony, found other outlets as well, including a gibe at a company that was making a big deal over a small bill. But he could also be serious, such as when he wrote advice to the jailed son of an old friend.

As the years went by, Pap found politics and public speaking more time-consuming and less-rewarding, particularly when faced with the obligations-financial and otherwise-of raising a growing family. He did not choose to seek re-election upon the expiration of his second Senatorial term, in 1929.

PROOF OF FITNESS

Greencastle, Indiana

March 29, 1915

Honorable John W. Kern

Washington, D.C.

My dear Senator Kern: In behalf of Joseph R. Lloyd, of this city, who informs me you suggested that he get his Representative (among others) to address you concerning his desires, I am taking this opportunity to make a plea that you recommend him for admittance to the U.S. Military School at West Point.

You know, Senator Kern, I sometimes wonder if a letter of recommendation is a knock or a boost in these days of wholesale recommendations, they have become so easy to obtain. . .

However that may be, there arise occasions where it is a real pleasure to recommend deserving young men . . .

As proof conclusive he cannot go far wrong after setting himself right this early in life in the face of adverse precept and precedent, I can only say Mr. Lloyd comes from one of the largest and most influential Republican families in Putnam County, and yet, last Fall (his first vote), he voted the straight Democratic ticket from top to bottom.

I am sure you will agree with me: If all the above be true, and our young friend is unable to meet the full requirements of West Point for admission .. . . the Academy should be abolished.

WHO'S WASTEFUL NOW?

August 13, 1917

My dear Mr. Sawyer: . . . I am very much obliged for the invitation out, but I can't get away. We will have a special Session of the Legislature, it now seems almost certain. . . The coal situation is acute in this State, and it is for relieving that situation the reason is given for calling a special session. . . I'll venture a guess, it won't be for the purpose of coal legislation, but on the other hand we will have to fight out again Governor Goodrich's pet Excise Tax Bill, and for additional appropriations for state institutions. The former I'm opposed to; the latter I am not. Only the latter comes with ill grace. Goodrich, in his opening campaign speech, which was delivered in Greencastle, charged the Democrats with criminal wastefulness of the state's money, especially in the maintenance of the state institutions. And he made his whole campaign on that one issue-Economy. Now I learn from Dr. Edenharter, Superintendent of Central Hospital for Insane, that for the first time in his experience as Superintendent during a period of 26 years, there is a deficit-and a large one-in his maintenance fund for that institution. The real reason is obvious: things have advanced so in price. I forgot to say too, that our appropriation this time for The Central Hospital was larger than it ever was. All in all, our General Appropriation Bill was $1,250,000 larger than it was two years ago, and our Specific Appropriation was $250,000 larger. I know, because I was on the Ways and Means Committee both years. It all goes to show that what a fellow uses to get in on don't always turn out to be just as he would have you believe. . .

SENATORIAL ASPIRANT

June 20, 1918

Mr. Sam D

Wingate, Ind.

Dear Sam: Along with a vast concourse of other office seekers, I attended the Democratic State Convention at Indianapolis yesterday, and got my hide again saturated with Jeffersonian and Jacksonian doctrine. . .

Of course, I called around on the Montgomery County Delegation to allow them a chance to give the "once over" on what they were reasonably expected to cast their franchises for State Senator for this Fall. As I told you some time ago, I'm a candidate for State Senator from Montgomery and Putnam Counties, and the Lord knows I want it and need it. Want it even more than Noah T- wanted to be J.P. at Veedersburg.

Some time when I'm over in your bailiwick, I want to look you up and get a little advice if you won't mind giving it to me. Don't suppose you'd mind doing that.

Every once in a while I make an inquiry about "Red" Purnell and they all say he's doing fine. He sure is a mighty loyal friend. His job never swelled him even so much as a urine ant bite would. I want to go over to see him one of these times, and see just how long it would take me to find the Capitol building.

He and I took our first trip to New York City together. We got the roofs of our mouths sun burned. . . As ever,

EMBARRASSING MOMENT

April 16, 1921

Chicago Tribune

Chicago, Illinois

Gentlemen: It happened only recently during the warm spell. I was in St. Louis, and by chance, met an old school friend who I had not seen since we were boys in Military School together. With him were the female members of his family, and a large part of their feminine acquaintances it would seem. After introductions and felicitations all around, it so happened another former cadet of the same Correctional Institution was passing in an auto when my friend hailed him and called my attention to the fact that a brother Shriner whom I ought to know was approaching. Imbued with the spirit of the Order, I stepped to the curb at the point of highest visibility to my pedestrian party, and started a most elaborate and obsequious salaam-when suddenly and without warning, the posterior warp and woof of my trousers gave way into a jagged 14-inch Maltese Cross with the suddenness of the dam at the Johnstown Flood.

If the remuneration for submitting this is in proportion to the

humiliation and mental pain and anguish suffered, the Tribune

Corporation will pass its next quarterly dividend.

Respectfully,

THE 75 CENT MYSTERY BILL

March 3, 1922

The W. H. Anderson Co.

524 Main Street

Cincinnati, Ohio

Gentlemen: I am just in receipt from you of a statement for 75 cents prefixed with "Balance as per Last Statement", and underneath and to one side of the figures is a sort of Odd Fellows hand with thumb extended parallel to the open fingers, and "if you please" inscribed on the palm thereof.

For the life of me I don't know what that balance is for. The only thing I can remember having bought from you was away back there about the first time Bryan ran, it seems to me. I ordered, and paid cash at the time of purchase, a set of Watson's Works Practice and Forms. Part of the set was to be delivered at once (and it was) and the balance in a short time thereafter. Well, time wore on, the horse was supplanted by the automobile, congress shoes were relegated to the attic. . . Sometime during this time, which we will call the "Elizabethan Period" of this transaction, to my utter consternation, I received another volume of this important Work. I was delighted, as the clear and fresh blue of the volume brightened up the general drab of those other volumes that had come to me long before. . .

Again, time wore on. Grover Cleveland and his Memorial Day fishing trips were discussed less and less by adverse politicians, . . . telephones came into universal use, Cole Younger was released from the Stillwater Prison; . . . George Blake, one of our local inventive geniuses, set in motion in his downtown basement his perpetual motion machine, that when once got in motion was only stilled when it disintegrated and tore out his east brick wall and scattered cogs, wheels and shafts over a radius of two blocks; . . . when, lo!-another and last volume made its appearance, making my set . . . complete. What more could I ask, except to fervently regret that they all did not get here before mine eyes were dimmed, mine step halting, and my hand palsied?

But, I see I have become reminiscent, as old men will. . .

What I wanted to ask in this letter is for information about what this bill is for? If it had been a REMITTANCE OF 75 CENTS, I would presume it was accumulated interest at 2 cents per decade on my original investment in the set paid years ago, and that you had relented and were quietly paying me off in a depreciated currency, with the hope I would accept it and say nothing.

But it is a demand, and I am therefore at complete loss to account for it. It might be for the postage on that set extending through all these years. On the other hand I do not believe it is that for two reasons: I dimly recall when I bought the set, and paid cash in advance, that covered all charges; and second, if it were for postage, the accumulated interest I would owe you by lapse of time would be in an amount far in excess of the 75 cents demanded.

Please enlighten me.

Respectfully,

TO THE COMMITTEE ON SKY LIGHTS?

December 6, 1922

Honorable Emmett E. Branch

Lieutenant Governor

Martinsville, Indiana

My dear Governor, I have your "epistle to the Corinthians" of recent date concerning committee assignments for the coming session of the Legislature, and desire to thank you for the opportunity of suggesting my preference.

I had read in the Indianapolis paper where the Messrs. C-, H- and C- had met with you for the palpable purpose of putting us down-trodden and foot-sore Democrats where we could do a minimum of harm, and so I went over yesterday-the State Committee was scheduled to meet-for the purpose of interviewing those delectable gentlemen to see if I were not scheduled as the ranking Democrat of the Committee on Sky Lights and Ventilation.

The sessions I was a member of the House, I was on the Ways and Means, Railroad and Banking Committees. . . My fitness for the above committees is striking. The expenditure of money always appealed to me, as I have had little of my own to expend, and naturally those of us in that class like to see the other fellow's go. As an authority on railroads, I met the 5 o'clock p.m. train at Russellville regularly for years and years; not that I expected guests, but it was the custom of the town, so I have an intimate knowledge of the stopping and starting of trains. I was "connected" with the Russellville Bank from the ages of 8 to about 18 ("Connected" has a variety of meanings. "Red" Purnell, now in Congress from the 9th District, and I roomed together during a part of our college careers at I.U. I heard much of his "girl" back at Veedersburg, whose father, Red freely confessed, was "connected" with the Cloverleaf Railroad. Some years later, I learned the good man was Section Boss at that point). My "connection" with Russellville Bank was spent principally in a janitorial capacity, and the balancing of pass books.

And so, in the full knowledge there are 33 of you and one of me, but that I have truth and justice on my side, and my trust is in the Lieutenant Governor, I must stay where you place me and be content, except that I do hope the Committee on Swamp Lands is full to overflowing . . . Very respectfully,

WAXING POETIC OVER FIRST LOVE

November 24, 1925

Ithaca Gun Company

Ithica, New York

Gentlemen,

I am sending you by parcel post the barrels of an Ithica hammerless shot gun, No. 29438, I must have bought 30 years ago or more when a very small boy. . .

It was the pride of my younger life. I have slept with it in sheer delight, and for fear it would be stolen. For years not a pin point of rust marred its gloriously shining barrels; the stock shone as does the throne of Allah from being gone over hundreds of times lovingly and tenderly with silk and wool, oil and polish. Its shooting prowess-it made the fur fly out of unsuspecting rabbits before Bryan built his crown of thorns and cross of gold; it sought the tender spots in ambitious fox squirrels when automobiles were as scarce as we Democrats are now; it has shot at everything from a beer bottle to a chicken- thief, and never failed or refused to respond.

The number of this gun was burned in my memory so unforgettably that today it came to me as doth the lamb the ewe. And while I do not know when the Magna Charta was wrung from King John, yet this numeral remains with me-yesterday, today and to the ages.

But evil days are come. The unrelenting grip of time has forced a fingerhold. Disintegration shows, for the first time, its hydra- head. When it happened, or how, I do not know, but only today, in removing it from its case preparatory to a hunt on the morrow, I found the rib split at the muzzle-and so, I must forego my biennial hunt.

Look it over and fix it up. You will probably have a bill for services. Send it on and if I haven't gone into bankruptcy keeping kool with Coolidge during these most damnably hard times, I'll try to splice enough money together to meet your demands. . . Respectfully,

ADVICE IN A CUSTODY BATTLE

May 19, 1926

Mr. J--,

Hot Springs, Arkansas

Dear Sir, I have given the matter of the custody and control of your boy some thought. . . In Indiana the general rule of law is that the father of a minor is entitled to the custody of his child or children . . . even as against the child's legal guardian-which happens to be the fact in your case. As I understand it, Mr. A- was appointed guardian of your boy in this court. Your letter pretty positively asserts that you never at any time, either verbally or in writing, released such right.

I find that the courts have pretty generally taken the view that the welfare of the child is the paramount matter. If it can be shown that the father is not a fit or suitable person or not able financially to support such child, then the courts will step in. As I understand the situation, neither of these affect you adversely. . . To me it seems, under the circumstances, most deplorable, or rather unfortunate that the A-s have taken such a fancy to the boy, and are unwilling now to give him up. He is a very fine boy, I am told, and will make a fine man. But I cannot see their position, and fail to get their angle.

In the event that you determine to bring a writ of habeas corpus proceeding for your boy, you must make good preparations in advance. You must be prepared to show the court most forcibly that you are a fit person to keep him; that your wife is anxious to have him, that you are amply able to support and school him; that you are not financially cramped, and all that sort of thing. It will take witnesses, and good ones. . . As a tip I might say that Mr. H- of this city is somewhere in Hot Springs now, in one of the hotels or sanitariums, I presume. I would say absolutely nothing to him about the trouble over the boy, but I would make a special effort to have him out to the house and let it get to him that your people are good people and financially able, and that you have a good home, and favorable surroundings, etc. Make a friend of him, and later we might use him advantageously. The B- s go down there in Arkansas somewhere. Keep an eye for the Greencastle people, and if convenient let them all see how you are fixed. You know what I mean.

I sympathize with you in your trouble. If such a condition came to me I would be fighting mad. But we must absolutely refrain from showing any anger. That weakens a man's case. Respectfully,

NO CHARGE

Greencastle, Indiana

March 16, 1927

Honorable E. Harold Van Orman

Lieutenant Governor of Indiana Evansville, Indiana

My dear Van:

I am just in receipt of a copy of your "epistle". . .

I want to move that the latter part of your fifth paragraph be made more specific-that part pertaining to the extension of the hospitality of your hotel. Does that mean with or without remuneration? And whether or not it means the invitee's family? A favorable construction on your part might lead to the culmination of our going en masse next Summer on a pilgrimage . . .

Finally, I would advise you that we are safely ensconced at 309 E. Seminary Street, this city, and in your seeking the Primary suffrages of the Putnam County and Greencastle constituency for Gubernatorial preferences, we would urgently convey the knowledge that our palatial home is in the exact center of the City and a house to house canvass can be most advantageously made, using our manse as a radius-with our compliments (Meaning, in the vernacular, "no charge"). As ever,

THE COSTS OF PUBLIC OFFICE

December 21, 1927

Mr. James D. Wilson

New Richmond, Indiana

My dear Mr. Wilson:

I am in receipt of your very considerate letter. . .

It is a satisfaction to hear now and then that one has the approval and support of the people who gave him his job- especially in a legislative way. . . It is so much harder to oppose money spending than it is to support it-so much more difficult to fight the creation of new boards, commissions and bureaus than it is to aid in bringing them into existence. And the crowd or lobby or whatever you call it who are fostering these expenditures always on hand during the Session to make it hot and unpleasant for anyone who opposes them, while the people who have to pay most of the bill are back home so busily engaged fighting clods, weather and pests, in order to get enough money ahead to pay these additional taxes, they haven't time to be loafing around a Legislative Session. . .

As to my being a candidate for re-election again, I doubt it, although I most sincerely appreciate your offer of support. That is what elected me-Republican support. But the truth is, as much as I like Legislative work .. . . if I continue in politics, I ought to try for an office that pays more money. I am in very moderate circumstances, financially; have a family of six children, five of them girls, and the oldest a girl ready for college next year, and you probably know what that means. Some think I was grandstanding and getting ready to run again, when I sent that $292 back to the State. But it wasn't at all. I sent it back simply because it was absolutely and unqualifiedly un- Constitutional, regardless of what our State Supreme Court says; and for the further reasons that I was elected knowing my salary would be $6 per day, that I had opposed salary increases during the term of office all my legislative career and could see no good excuse for exempting myself from that rule, and for the further reason that our agricultural interests were in such a deplorable condition they couldn't be asked to stand any salary increase-however much I needed, or would have liked to have it myself. And I hear that by reason of my having sent the excess salary back I have incurred the displeasure of a considerable number of my Democratic colleagues, who expect to try to see to it that I am not re-elected Dem. Floor Leader next Session. And so it goes. . . Most Respectfully,

HIS OPINIONS CARRY WEIGHT

(Excerpt from a letter sent by Indiana State Forester R. F.

Wilcox to Charles Barnaby, of Greencastle, March 11, 1929)

The Senate passed our LaFuze Bill which appropriates $100,000 a year to this Department for our nursery program and acquiring land for state forests. This means great things for the future lumber industries of the state, and of course all of the citizens of Indiana. . .

During the discussion, when the boys were getting away off the track, pro and con, Senator Durham demanded the floor and made a statement which carried more weight than all the other arguments put together. He said that Charlie Barnaby had been in the lumber business for 40 years and probably knew more about hardwood trees than anyone else in the country. . . He said you wrote him that this positively was a good bill and they had better take your advice and pass it. Senator Durham discriminates very closely, I have noticed, in the matter of legislation. . . and I have noticed that the other members of the Senate give his opinions serious consideration. You are to be congratulated on having such a splendid man to represent you.

AS GOOD AS WILL ROGERS

(Excerpt from the Service Club Grenade, newsletter of the Service

Club of Indianapolis, Feb. 16, 1929)

We confess our inability to make even a pretense of reporting the talk given the club last Monday by Senator Durham. It was understood that the senator hailed from Greencastle, but this was an error. His home is in Russellville, where according to his own admission, there "ain't a golf ball or a pair of pajamas in the whole damn town."

Senator Durham is one of "God's Chosen Minority," as he himself admits. Invitations to speak before this club and that led him to believe for a while that he was an orator, but he finally came to the conclusion that demands for his public appearance were made because, as a Democrat, he was quite a curiosity.

Give Senator Durham a wad of gum and a rope, and he would be as good as his fellow Democrat, Will Rogers. He entertained the club, had everybody in an uproar, for a full half hour with his tales about the characters in his home town.

Those who stayed away Monday missed one of the most enjoyable meetings we have had in a long time, even if the Lincoln Hotel lost no money on the lunch.

THE HAZARDS OF TRYING A COME-BACK

Greencastle, Indiana

July 2, 1930

Mr. Claud E. Fix

Shelbyville, Indiana

My dear Mr. Fix: I received your very kind letter of May 30th, relative to a proposed oratorical "come back" on my part before a Shelbyville audience. I say "come back" because I was the alleged speaker of the evening with the Shelbyville Rotary Club in May of this year. It may happen you have heard of that disaster, and are charitably giving me an opportunity to redeem myself in the eyes of Shelbyville people. Your surname indicates such. . .

Experience has taught me a repetition is generally more dangerous even than a first offense. It is in law, and it generally is in other things. Let me illustrate from my own experience.

Years ago, my home town, Russellville, Indiana, had a home talent company. In fact, we have had many of them. The town and community was surfeited with them. The epidemic would break out, die down, and then break out afresh. Warner Kinkead was the cause of most of it. Warner was our self-imposed "leading man" on all and every occasion. For one thing, he was a bit older, but his principal claim to "stardom" was due to the fact he had spent two years away from Russellville, and was therefore more sophisticated and worldly-wise. The rest of us had ventured no farther than an annual pilgrimage to Crawfordsville for the County Fair. . .

Warner's parents had emigrated to Kansas. The second year the grasshoppers "took them," with the result they all came back to Russellville, and along with Warner came a "make-up" box which he had in some manner acquired, together with a yearning for a theatrical career. Therefore, he was an actor, none could successfully dispute. He had the evidence. Warner put on many home talents, advertised under the auspices of the Rathbon's Sisters, the Mt. Pisgah Aid Society or other neighborhood organizations.

From a comparatively modest beginning, we aspired to greater things-harder plays and more cast. Warner soon learned the more there were in the cast, the more doting fathers and mothers, aunts and uncles, would turn out in the audience to see and admire his uncanny histrionic abilities.

Eventually, we assayed a tragedy-an unavailing struggle against fate. "Sea Drift" was the name of our first-and last-tragedy. The climax was to come in the 8th or 9th Scene of the 10th or 12th Act, when in point of actual time it would be after midnight and our remaining audience (those who, of necessity, had to stay to take 95% of the cast home in time to help with breakfast or the milking) either somnolent or clear "gone."

The script went like this: The heroine is stranded on a bit of driftwood far out on the storm-tossed sea. From the lighthouse the startling cry rings out: "A fair maiden in dire peril in the sea beyond the breakers! Oh, Oh! Who will save her?"

"I will save her, or lose my life!" responds the hero (Warner), who thereupon hurls himself into the angry waves from a beetling cliff. A fearful struggle ensues between man and watery elements (ably aided and abetted by several bucketsful of real water from the wings). The maiden is rescued and brought to shore, but for some reason known only to the author the effort is too much for the hero. With a choked and exhausted murmur, "Call her Sea Drift. She is God's gift from the sea," he then and there expires from overexertion and exposure.

This called for an ocean scene-a considerable of an ocean scene- and none of us had ever seen it. But we had read geographies and seen pictures, and Uncle Bud Nichols had several stereopticon views of the ocean at its worst. The Clodfelter girls sewed long strips of sheeting together and Jess Carrington, our local barn painter, painted the result of their labors to look like what he, in his artistic mind, thought the sea ought to look like. We borrowed two hand-power blacksmith's bellows from Fred Fink's blacksmith shop to put at either wing, and under the loosely-laid sheeting. The bellows pumped air underneath, thus causing undulation after undulation, making what we though was a most realistic semblance of the ocean in active operation. My particular part, among others, in this theatrical venture, was to operate one of these bellows, and operate it like "hell," as Warner said, at the proper time.

A few of our props and effects are worthy of mention: the lighthouse was built from four round old time banana shipping crates fastened end to end, with a lantern from the livery stable hanging cheerily in the top. . . David Henry Burton, local inventor, hooked up immense quantities of old baling wire to some sort of wooden structure representing the driftwood the heroine was to cling to so perilously, in such a way that when Jude Glover, concealed beneath the ocean, turned the handle of a lop sided grindstone, the "driftwood" and beautiful maiden clinging thereon would bob up and down. A hand cornsheller shelling corn into a tin bucket emitted most of the noises we thought an ocean would make on an occasion like that.

Shep Wilson, who could bark like a dog, and who, it was said, did go with a show one whole summer in that capacity, and who, concealed in the corn field out alongside Hebron School House, did scare the little girls almost into hysterics one afternoon, lent us generously of his caninal talents.

Eventually, we eventuated into the Big Scene-the maiden was adrift, the cry of alarm rang out.

"I will save her or lose my life," quoth Warner, in a voice that sounded like an auctioneer at a farm sale. Jerking off his coat, he plunged into the raging sea. Buffeted by the angry waves, he crawled to the fair maiden. He grasped her tenderly and started for the shore. Midst the noise of the corn-sheller, the barking of the dog, the efforts of the bucketeers and bellowsmen, and encouraging cries from on shore, his foot caught in a seam of the sheeting, ripping up about two yards of the ocean. The air we had so industriously pumped in, rushed out at the rent. The sea collapsed. The corn-sheller ceased shelling. The barking dog and frenzied shore cries were hushed. A dead silence fell until some sacrilegious individual in the audience whispered loudly, "It's a miracle boys; he's walking on the sea." . . . Some good Samaritan finally got the curtain down.

But what I started out to illustrate was the mistake we made-I mean the big mistake. We had advertised "Sea Drift" for two nights, thereby giving our second night's audience an opportunity to get ready for us-which they did in due and ancient form, as will be quickly sensed. A shame, since as a whole, the show probably progressed more smoothly the second night-up to the Big Scene-which was never finished.

Later on, the male part of the cast met on the bench in front of Sam Brown's meat market to talk it over, and inquire of Warner how he was getting along. His talk was short and much to the point: "Boys, we're not appreciated, and they needn't never ask me to put on a play in this town again. . . I didn't mind the tomatoes, or the potatoes much-or even the eggs-could see 'em coming and dodge 'em. But I would like to know the SOB who threw that china door knob."

I presume you see my point by this time concerning a second effort in Shelbyville-oratorically.

Seriously, I . . . shall have to refuse your very kind offer. My father-in-law has been very low for months. He lives in Pennsylvania. My wife was called to Pennsylvania by the family, who thought the end was about come. . .and I shall have to hold myself in readiness to go at any time. Respectfully,

SWAMPED

Greencastle, Indiana

Oct. 2, 1929

Mr. D. Ray Higgins

937 Illinois Building

Indianapolis, Indiana

Dear Sir, I have your very kind letter inviting me to make the talk before the Shrine Club. . . I should be delighted to make whatever talk I could, but the truth is I am sort of swamped in a small way with things of that nature. I am having some important cases tried this month, and I just must get ready for them. . . There must be an epidemic of Masonic meetings, or rather dinners, just at this time. I had a call yesterday from Terre Haute for a similar purpose, and last Saturday one from Logansport.

Now the truth is, and I told the other parties this same thing, I am more than rusty on Masonry. . . What talks I make are nearly always directed toward the Legislature, or some sort of politics, and are more in the nature of fun along those lines than serious stuff.

Mr. Cooper, whom you know, has very kindly put me on the program at a National Meeting of Insurance Men for the 10th, and the Lord knows I don't know anything about insurance, except to pay the premiums when I can get the money scraped together.

And so if you will kindly excuse me for the present, and then, after consulting . . . on my real inability to make an interesting Shrine talk, if you all still want me, perhaps we can get together at some other time. Respectfully,

ADVICE TO A YOUNG PRISONER

Greencastle, Indiana

Oct. 1, 1929

Mr. Harold M-, #6347

Washington State Reformatory

Monroe, Washington

My dear Harold, The writer of this letter may be unknown to you, although the chances are you know, or have heard of me. Anyway, your mother and I grew up together, girl and boy. I knew your grandfather and grandmother-fine, fine, old pioneer folks. . .

I am not only the boyhood friend of your mother, but have also probably done all her legal work here. And so, in view of all of this, and for other reasons, I am quite naturally interested in you and your welfare. . . I have tried to find out the facts in your case, and probably have them fairly straight. . .

Now, Harold, of course we both realize you have done wrong-very wrong in fact-and you are paying the penalty to society for that wrong doing. But do it like a good sport-like a good loser-and not be a whiner or welcher. . . Do not imagine that I am a maudlin and mouldy old lawyer, or that I am magnifying the error you made, because such is not the case. I come in contact with this sort of condition all the time. I realize that what you did will be done again and again in the future by others. What I insist is that it shall never again happen to you. I know there are those associated with you now who are fools enough to maintain an air of bravado about them, and pretend they have been wronged by society . . . and they go about here and there telling what they are going to do when they get out, and how they're never going to get caught again. That type is hopeless and utterly worthless, but their greatest trouble is that they lack brains. They prate about this and that rich man breaking the law and getting by with it; or this and that bootlegger or what not, has a pull, or has the authorities bought and paid for, or is too smooth to get caught. All of which is 90% bosh. Confirmed crooks are never smart. They invariably . . . get caught. Why? Because there are smarter and shrewder men after them than they are, and so, the smarter man wins.

And all the time, the crook is a restless and furtive fugitive, never feeling safe and secure . . . and never knowing what the next hour will bring; never having any peace of mind; and never having any respect for himself.

I am not talking about the boy who, due to youth and inexperience, or stress of circumstances, or in a spirit of half excitement, picks a pocket, or sells some hooch, or steals a watch. . . You come of the right stock. The big thing for you, or anyone else who has made a mistake, is to get the right mental attitude toward that mistake. When a fellow finds he is wrong, reverse then and there. Don't wait and don't try to "bull it through". . . and make friends, not enemies, of the reformatory authorities. You will be surprised, yes, amazed, to learn how badly they want to be friendly with you. . . Show by your actions and attitude that you realize your mistake, study hard to fit yourself for life after you get out, don't whine or complain, don't sulk or slight your work. Brighten and cheer up. And for God's sake, prove you're a man and not a coward, because all confirmed criminals are cowards, without exception. . .

For your information, and to play square with you, I think within the year I shall write your warden or someone, asking how you are getting along and what sort of young fellow you are, because he will know, and I hope and trust my good opinion of you will be verified.

And so, why is it, Harold, that I am taking my time away from my business, and writing you this long and rather rambling letter? Surely, I can have no motive of personal profit in it. No, it is to let you know that not only me but thousands of people all over this big, free country are interested in you and anxious for you and those others of you who have made a slip, all of us hoping and trusting and many praying for your welfare. So don't think you are friendless or forgotten, or ostracized. And each day and every hour and conscious moment, never lose sight of the fact that your coming away from there with the right attitude, the correct vision, and firm determination of rectitude of future conduct, depends solely on you.

Write me sometime.

Sincerely,

A LONG WAY FROM HOME

July 17, 1930

Hon. Harry N. Quigley, General Counsel

C.C.C. & St. L. Railway Co.

230 E. 9th St.

Cincinnati, Ohio

Dear Sir: I was in Houston, Texas, about two months ago on some business with the Humble Oil Co. An old Chicago lawyer named Hait or Haut or something like that had business with the same company. . . It was the time Houston was celebrating the fact they had come to be the second city in size in the South-a gain of over 100% in ten years. Parades. Newspaper head lines. Everybody talking "Houston, Houston." We outsiders got a bit tired and bored with all the talk. One of the vice presidents of the company took us riding and to see his country home, all the way out talking up Houston, and occasionally giving the old man a little peck about Chicago lawlessness, racketeers and gunmen.

We saw the house and flower gardens and then went to see his bird collection. Our host took us to a big cage and pointed out a long-necked bird of brilliant plumage, and said: "That is a Bird of Paradise. What do you think of him?"

The old lawyer replied: "Well, I think he's a hell of a long ways from home."

It was a knockout.

Respectfully,

THE DEMOCRATIC 'STRIKE' OF 1925

One of the most colorful escapades in the political history of the Hoosier State took place in 1925. Pap, who represented Putnam and Montgomery Counties in the Indiana State Senate, was an enthusiastic and imaginative participant.

The spark was the proposed "Penrod Bill" (named for the Senator who introduced it) which, not unlike legislation offered from time to time even today, contained a hidden provision.

The bill (S.B. 300) proposed the transfer of a central Indiana county (Lawrence) from the Third U.S. Congressional District to the Second. The invention was to make sure there would be sufficient Republicans in that district-Senator Penrod's-to insure his election to Congress. Naturally, his good fortune would have come at the expense of the Democrats.

The Indiana State Senate in 1925 was almost totally controlled by the Republicans, but there was one small hitch. Unless a quorum was present, no votes could be taken and no legislation could be passed-not just the offending Penrod bill, but any business at all. And there were just enough Democrats to threaten such a "political blockade." As expected, the Republicans presented the Penrod Bill of Feb. 25.

The Democrats were prepared. Hastily, all fifteen of them who were present (two others were ill and absent) "bolted" their legal confines and took refuge in the neighboring state of Ohio. Most of the "bolters" made the trip in a bus rented ahead of time. They wound up in Dayton, where they took up residence in a hotel owned, curiously, by Hoosier Lieut. Gov. Van Orman, a Republican. In a "spirit of bipartisanship," the latter telegraphed the runaways to "be my guest."

Another Democrat, Senator Harrison, left the next day secluded in an Overland Moving Van. Pap's transit was courtesy of his railroad pass. The train deposited him in Cincinnati, and he went on to Dayton from there.

The Minority Leader, Senator Joseph M. Cravens of Madison, Indiana, halted the escape bus briefly on its way to Ohio to order a barrel of apples to be forwarded to the Indiana Senate, accompanied by a note-"Compliments of the Minority Members." The erudite Senator Cravens (known informally as "Uncle Joe") was the bachelor scion of perhaps the most distinguished and aristocratic families in Indiana at that time.

The Indianapolis Star and other newspapers had a field day covering the Democratic "bolt," which brought official undertakings to a complete halt. Photos of all the "strikers" were printed side by side almost as if they were fugitives in a rogues' gallery.

A poignant victim of the escapade was the official "Doorkeeper" of the Senate, one Jerome K. Brown, who was ordered by the Senate leadership to go to Ohio and serve warrants for the arrest and return of the vagrants. Poor Doorkeeper Brown protested against going it alone, but to no avail. He arrived in Dayton 11:45 PM on the 25th and served his warrants on the "bolters" in their rooms at the Gibbons Hotel. The warrants were ignored, but Brown was invited to join a poker game in progress.

The Ohio governor and attorney-general pronounced that Indiana arrest warrants were without official standing in Ohio (which coincidentally was under a Democrat administration at the time.) The governor furthermore invited the Hoosier "strikers" to stay on in Ohio "without being molested" as long as they wished.

Senator Cravens accepted the invitation "with great pleasure- until the Penrod Bill is withdrawn."

Senator Penrod countered firmly that nothing of that sort would take place.

Thereafter the shenanigans increased as the plot thickened.

The Republican Majority in the Indiana Senate set about trying to find a hale and hearty Democrat on Hoosier soil who could be legally compelled to resume his seat. Pap's eldest daughter was accosted on her way home from school in Greencastle by a friendly pair of men she had never seen before. She thought it a bit strange, but all Hoosiers were unrestrictedly friendlier those days. They got around to inquiring of Pap's whereabouts. When the fifteen-year-old reported the conversation later at home, her mother explained that Pap was "just hiding out somewhere with his Democratic friends."

Senator Cravens' adroit public comments expressed regret for the legislative drought, but noted, "The Democratic Minority in the Senate has from the beginning done its best to aid in the passage of every constructive and economic measure brought before that body. . . in the hope of benefitting the overburdened taxpayers of the state. Our only regret is that there have not been more measures of economic and constructive character to vote for. . ." He took the opportunity to expound on party grievances.

The Republicans threatened to call out the state militia and place the matter before the Marion County Grand Jury, which they said might fine the runaways $1,000 and imprison them. Such threats and the clumsy attempts to serve warrants or "kidnap" a Democrat backfired, however, and became targets of public hilarity.

The papers made light of the fact that the Marion County Horse Thief Detective Association was sworn in "to watch for Senators who might attempt to sneak back home to Indiana without being detected."

Faced with becoming a legislative laughing stock, the Republican Majority capitulated to the Democratic Minority, making a prophet out of Pap, who had predicated in a letter home that a "truce" would be arranged in a day or two.

The Indianapolis Times carried the banner headline: D.C.

STEPHENSON BEHIND MOVE WHICH BROUGHT 15 ABSENT SENATORS BACK;

REPUBLICAN POLITICAL BOSS ASSURES DEMOCRATIC FUGITIVES MEASURE

THEY ARE OPPOSED TO WILL BE DROPPED.

The runaways were also given promises of immunity from arrest and the quashing of any indictments against them. Thus, having thoroughly enjoyed their rest and recreation, they cheerfully returned to their seats on the afternoon of Feb 27.

The saga of the "Democrats who bolted" in order to make their political point perfectly clear (and effective) became an oft- told tale in Hoosier political circles.

And Pap received his just political reward.

Shortly thereafter, he was chosen as successor to "Uncle Joe"

Cravens as Minority Leader in the Indiana State Senate.