by Kornbluh, Joyce L. , Rosemont, Franklin, Thompson, Fred, Gross, Daniel
(Commotion in court room. Sheriff throws interrupter out of room.)
PRISONER’S COUNSEL—At this point I wish to introduce as evidence an interview with Hi Gill, Mayor of Seattle, as published in that notorious labor-hating sheet—The Seattle Times of Nov. 8th, (Reads clipping)
MAYOR GILL SAYS I.W.W. DID NOT START RIOT
Seattle Executive Places Blame for Sunday Tragedy on Citizens of Everett-Gives Prisoners Tobacco
Providing the I.W.W.’s whose attempted armed invasion of Everett last Sunday resulted in seven deaths and injuries to forty-nine persons, with every comfort possible, Mayor H. C. Gill yesterday afternoon personally directed the carrying of 300 warm blankets and an assortment of tobacco to the 250 prisoners now held in the city jail.
In this manner Gill replied to criticism in Seattle and Everett for not having stopped the I.W.W.’s from going to the Snohomish County city. He supplemented this today by assailing Sheriff Donald McRae, of Snohomish County, and the posse of special deputies who met the invading I.W.W.’s at the boat.
“In the final analysis,” the mayor declared, “it will be found these cowards in Everett who, without right or justification, shot into the crowd on the boat were the murderers and not the I.W.W.’s.
Calls Them Cowards
“The men who met the I.W.W.’s at the boat were a bunch of cowards. They outnumbered the I.W.W.’s five to one, and in spite of this they stood there on the dock and fired into the boat, I.W.W.’s, innocent passengers and all.
“McRae and his deputies had no legal right to tell the I.W.W.’s or anyone else that they could not land there. When the sheriff put his hand on the butt of his gun and told them they could not land, he fired the first shot, in the eyes of the law, and the I.W.W.’s can claim that they shot in self-defense.”
Mayor Gill asserted the Everett authorities have no intention of removing the I.W.W.’s now in jail here to Snohomish County.
“They are afraid to come down here and get them,” he declared, “because Everett is in a state of anarchy and the authorities don’t know where they’re at.”
Asked what he would have done at Everett Sunday when the I.W.W.’s appeared at that city, the mayor said he would have permitted them to land.
“After they had been allowed to come ashore,” he said, “I would have had them watched. Then if they violated the law I would have had them thrown in jail. There would have been no trouble that way.”
No Fight in Seattle
“Because Everett has been reduced to a state of anarchy by their high-handed methods of dealing with this situation it is no reason they are going to attempt to bring their fight down in Seattle, at least while I am mayor.
“If I were one of the party of forty I.W.W.’s who was almost beaten to death by 300 citizens of Everett without being able to defend myself, I probably would have armed myself if I intended to visit Everett again.
“If the Everett authorities had an ounce of sense, this tragedy would have never happened. They have handled the situation like a bunch of imbeciles, and they have been trying to unload these men onto Seattle. You don’t see any disturbances here, because we don’t use nickel methods.”
The mayor charged that Everett officials were inconsistent in their handling of this situation. He said that they permit candidates for office to violate the city ordinances by speaking on the streets and yet run the I.W.W.’s out of town if they endeavor to mount a soap box.
(Pause)—The defendant, Mr. A Wise Wobbly will now please take the stand.
WOBBLY (Answering clerk’s rigamarole) I affirm!
Industrial Worker, February 2, 1911.
PRISONER’S COUNSEL—Kindly state to the Court, Mr. Wobbly, your version of the outrage on Bloody Sunday.
PROSECUTOR—I object, your Honor!
JUDGE—State your objections to the Court.
PROSECUTOR—This is Snohomish county and according to our theory of law and order a workingman is always Guilty until he is proven innocent. Therefore the prisoner should be cross-examined before he is allowed to make his statement.
JUDGE—The point is well taken. Examine the accused, Mr. Prosecutor.
PROSECUTOR—Mr. Wobbly, by the testimony of two unimpeachable witnesses I have proven that you were singing two different songs at the same time. What have you to say on this point?
WOBBLY—I was not singing at all, Mr. Prostituting Attorney, I was merely reciting the Declaration of Independence.
PROSECUTOR—Nonsense! Nonsense! I don’t believe you know the Declaration of Independence. How does it start?
WOBBLY—”The working class and the employing class have nothing in common. There can be no peace so long as hunger and want are found among the millions of working people, and the few, who make up the employing class have all the good things of life. Between these two classes a struggle must go on until the workers of the world organize as a class, take possession of the earth and the machinery of production. and abolish the wage system. We find—”
PROSECUTOR (interrupting)— That’s enough! That’s enough! You know it all right!! (pause) Mr. Wobbly, will you tell the Court whether or not you were armed at the time the Verona docked.
WOBBLY—I had a piece of wood in my hand.
PROSECUTOR—Describe the wood.
WOBBLY—It was only a small piece.
JUDGE (angrily)—You must be more explicit! What size was this wood? Was it as long as my head?
WOBBLY (reflectively)—Yes, a little longer than your head but not nearly so thick!
JUDGE (clearing his throat)— H’mm! Prisoner at the Bar, have you anything further to say for yourself?
WOBBLY—Yes, Judge, I think you should be thankful that I’m here.
JUDGE (surprised)—HOW do you make that out?
WOBBLY—Well—suppose all the agitators and pickets and union men and socialists and anarchists and birth control advocates were to strike and quit agitating—what would you judges do for a living?
PROSECUTOR (trying to cover the Judge’s confusion—Mr. Wobbly, what is your nationality?
WOBBLY (proudly)—I.W.W.
PROSECUTOR—Then you are not a patriot? Wouldn’t you fight for the country?
WOBBLY—Certainly not! I live in the city!
PROSECUTOR—I mean to ask whether you would fight for your native land?
WOBBLY—I don’t own any land. The I.W.W. is fighting all the landlords for all the land and all the employers for all the machinery of production, (makes a move toward Prosecutor). If you own any land I’ll fight you for it!
PROSECUTOR (hastily)—Take the defendant in rebuttal.
PRISONER’S COUNSEL—Mr. Wise Wobbly, will you please tell the Court in as few words as possible just what made you decide to go to Everett on the steamer Verona on Sunday, November fifth?
WOBBLY (whimsically)—I could talk better if I had a soap box.
COUNSEL (sternly)— Tell your story, Mr. Wobbly.
WOBBLY—I am a member of that ever-increasing rebel army which is marching against the Masters of the Bread. I believe in, and am willing to fight and to die for the principle of free speech, free press, free assemblage, and the right to organize Labor into a solid industrial body that will wage the every day battles of the workers and will manage industry when capitalism shall have been overthrown. I am an I.W.W. and proud of it! For six months the tools of the Lumber Trust in Snohomish county have beaten, robbed, deported and abused all workers who did not favor the open shop and the closed mouth. Finally a mob of citizen-deputies illegally seized 41 members of my class and after taking them to the outskirts of Everett beat them so brutally that many of them had to be sent to the hospital. Then, with many others, I decided to go to Everett to gain the right to speak and organize. I thought that a body of several hundred men, with a strong sentiment already in their favor in Everett, would be able to speak without interference because of their numbers and strength. I went on the Verona with more than 250 others and, altho we were unarmed, our
greeting from the “keepers of the peace” was a hail of bullets that killed five of our brave fellow workers and wounded over thirty others. Then on our return to Seattle we were arrested and I am the first of seventy-four to be tried for first degree murder. The only crime I am guilty of is loyalty to the working class! I am innocent of murder but I am guilty of solidarity!! Convict me for that if you dare!!!
Industrial Worker, May 9, 1912
PRISONER’S COUNSEL—That is all. I rest my case.
JUDGE—My instructions to the jury, gentlemen, is that you disregard all evidence favorable to the accused and remain faithful to your trust—the Lumber Trust. When rendering your verdict, bear in mind that a Court is a place where justice is dispensed—with. It is your duty to vindicate the fair name of our Commercial Club and to keep the pillars of society from crumbling, and by so doing you will be able to hire your wage slaves much more cheaply in the future. * * *
MESSENGER BOY—Telegram for Prosecuting Attorney!
JUDGE (continuing as Prosecutor signs for and reads telegram)—Gentlemen of the jury, as I see before me your six countenances distinguished by that supreme sagacity which is the proud birthright of every freeman born or naturalized under the starry flag of this great republic, I know that you will not disregard my instructions. I instruct you to bring a verdict of-
PROSECUTOR—(In trembling voice)— Judge, your honor, read this telegram!
JUDGE (reading telegram aloud)—’The I.W.W. strongly organized in the lumber camps and mills, and in allied industries, will inaugurate an immediate general strike in case a verdict of Guilty is rendered in the Everett trial.”
JUDGE (turning to jury)— As I was saying, gentlemen, it is your duty to bring in a verdict of—NOT GUILTY!
FOREMAN OF JURY— (Rises and receiving nods of assent from members of jury, addresses the court)—The final evidence in this case is so conclusive that we are forced to render a verdict of Not Guilty!
(Sheriff removes handcuffs and chains from prisoner.)
PRISONER’S COUNSEL—I move for the dismissal of the seventy-three cases pending and demand the immediate discharge of all prisoners from custody.
JUDGE—Motion granted! Prisoners discharged!! Court dismissed!! Oh Lord, give me a drink, quick!!
WOBBLY (holding chains and handcuffs aloft)—See what Solidarity of Labor has done!!! … (Drops chains and handcuffs to floor with a crash as curtain falls.)
(Finis)
9
This account of the prison experiences of seventy-four I.W.W. defendants following the “Tragedy of the Verona” was one of a series of retrospective articles published in the Industrial Worker during 1945–46. This article appeared in the Industrial Worker (October 30, 1946).
JAILS DIDN’T MAKE THEM WEAKEN
By JACK LEONARD
One of the 74 Everett Victims Tells How With Battleship and Solidarity They Improved the Jail
It has been suggested to me many times, that I write my personal experiences and reactions while confined in the Snohomish county and King county jails after our arrests on the first degree murder charges November 5, 1916.
The history of the events leading up to and including November 5, 1916, has been written much better than I could hope to do. The things we did to amuse ourselves; the humorous situations that arose, the bewilderment of the jailers at a group of prisoners who insisted upon and received, finally, respect from them; the lifting of authority as far as the prisoners’ welfare was concerned, or the administration of all matters within the tanks and cells was concerned—these things have just been mentioned as something incidental to the trial itself.
The 74 represented a remarkable cross section of the working class, more remarkable because it was so representative. There was an Irishman from Ireland, another of Irish extraction but born in U.S.A., an English Jew, a Russian Jew and an American Jew. (All by birth, none as far as I know professing.) There were at least two from Australia. The age of the 74 ranged from a 16 year old boy to men approaching 60. There were migratory workers and resident workers; and some of them had worked at so many different jobs and at such a variety of crafts, that I honestly believe that given the tools and materials, they could have built a city complete with all utilities. In education so far as I have any knowledge none had gone to college. (Perhaps that is why Anna Louise Strong said that we reminded her of college students.)
There were as many kinds of personalities and temperaments as there were individuals. This then is the group I was to spend months with, before and during the trial of Thomas Tracy.
As was customary in those days, we migrants seldom had occasion to use the names by which our births were or were not registered, and mine had been changed from John L. Miller to J. Leonard Miller to Jack Leonard. The last seemed to stick, like burrs to a water spaniel.
As we were being booked at the Seattle city jail I got my first chuckle as the booking sergeant said: “The Leonard family is damn well represented here tonight,” especially as I knew the man’s name he was registering was really Leonard and since Leonard had become my moniker that was what I was going to give.
Shortly after this I was shoved into what is known as a tank with so many men that there was not enough floor space for us all to lie down. We soon managed this by having the first row lie down, the second row would lay head and shoulders on the hips of the first row, the third row heads and shoulders on the hips of the second row and so on.
The Battleship
This went on with a bread and coffee diet for a few days until we were sufficiently organized to “Build a Battleship.” I do not know how the expression “Build a Battleship” originated, but to those who have not participated or witnessed such a demonstration by a bunch of determined Wobblies, I’ll say but emphatically, you have missed something.
The building was not too suitable as it was built of concrete. The jail was several floors above the street and was divided into several tanks, so that it was hard to work in perfect concert with all groups. First we sang a few songs to warm up. Then in our tank we all huddled in the center and locked arms, and at the count of three we would all jump up from the floor and of course our combined weight would fall upon the floor at the same time. Being one of the “constructors” I cannot say for sure, but I have been told, that the building actually rocked as tho it were in an earthquake. The jailers first threatened to turn the fire hose upon us. We invited them to do so as we intended to keep on until we furnished them with a hole in the floor for the water to run out. They changed from an attitude of command to one of pleading. They told us of our dying fellow workers in the hospital below. We told them that those men would be cheered rather than depressed by our action. The jailers called the Chief of Police and the Chief of Police called the Mayor of Seattle. The Mayor agreed that we should have better food and tobacco be distributed, and things arranged so that we could at least lie down and be furnished with blankets.
Not many days afterwards we were charged by an information filed by the prosecutor of Snohomish County with first degree murder, that is 41 of us. Later 33 more were so charged.
Three Fingers
We 74 were supposed to be the “leaders.” Hell, we had already informed them at the dock in Everett on November 5, that we were all leaders, so in order to get 74, just as many as the Snohomish County jail would hold, they placed some one in a padded cell—no I am not kidding—and he chose us by sticking three fingers thru a hole for yes and two fingers for no. Some picker, two at least were not members at all; some had just lined up. I had been a member less than four months and mostly by accident. Some of ability were chosen. The rest were known because of their activities for the organization.
Now as I mentioned before we were of all temperaments and as the information was read to the first 40, one fainted. Some were sarcastic enough to tell the prosecutor that they thought the charge might be something serious, some jeered, some were indignant, but before the prosecutor could leave we were all singing the �
��Red Flag” or “Solidarity Forever.”
A couple of nights later we were taken to Everett by interurban which then ran from Seattle to Everett. The Mayor of Seattle asked if sufficient protection had been provided for us at Everett. I did not hear the reply. But Seattle police rode in the car with us part of the way.
When we arrived in Everett we were placed in the upper tank which had 40 bunks, so one of our number had to sleep in the corridor between the cells. These cells were small, so small that there were two bunks, one over the other hung on hinges and chains to each wall, with an aisle just wide enough for a man to squeeze thru. The sanitary facilities consisted of a bucket for each four men within the cells, one toilet in the corridor, a slop sink where we washed our faces and a shower bath.
Everett’s New Jail
For some time we were all but one locked in the cell at night with no access to the toilet. The food was even by jail standard terrible. We were some time getting organized, but from the first we had a jail committee which was elected every week. This committee saw that the portion of the jail which we used was kept clean and dished out what food was given to us. They were the only ones who would speak to the jailers. No one could serve on this committee the second time until each had served upon it once. Needless to say the jailers, who had been used to, and had encouraged the old kangaroo court system, were puzzled. How could they play favorites, or get stool pigeons or otherwise play one prisoner against the other, or who could they pick for the fall guy?
Now when we entered this jail it was so new that it shone. It was supposed to be escape proof. Hardened steel floor and ceiling, hardened steel bars, about four inches wide and 5/8 of an inch thick. It had a locking system which was worked by levers from outside the corridors, but inside the building. We could see that the jailers were proud of their jail.
Our breakfast in the morning was mouldy half cooked mush. One morning it was so bad that it looked as if some one had defecated into it. The committee served it into the pie pans provided for us to eat from, and then called a meeting to see what was to be done with it. We voted upon it and, as agreed, one man after another took his pan and threw the contents thru the bars at the end of the corridors and frescoed the walls and carpeted the stairs with it. Oh, their beautiful jail.