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Hellraisers Journal – Wednesday September 28, 1921
Mother Jones Speaks at United Mine Workers Convention, Part II
Indianapolis Convention of the United Mine Workers of America
Sixth Day, September 26, 1921, Mother Jones Speaks, Part II of IV:
We then went into the Fairmont Field. One night while holding a meeting in New England I paid a fellow to go and circulate bills. We held a meeting on the sand lot. The United States marshal and the deputy marshal were there. When the meeting closed I went away. A little boy told me to get into a buggy and he would drive me to the interurban. When I was going over a dark bridge there were six or eight fellows at the company’s store. One fellow asked me where I was going. I said I was going into Fairmont and asked him to take care of the slaves because if he didn’t I would have to hunt a job for him next day.
Barney Rice, Joe Poggiani and another fellow from Indiana were there. I was hoping the boys would come, because those fellows could throw me into the river and say I committed suicide. Barney Rice came out calling: “Police! Police!” I asked what was the matter and he said they were killing Joe, that he was alone in the dark bridge and he had broken no law. The interurban turned the corner and I told those fellows to hurry. I ran into the bridge and the fellows who had attacked Joe had run away. He had a deep cut in his head. I dragged Joe out and bound his head up with a piece of my underskirt. I asked the interurban men to hurry him into Fairmont and they did.
Next day the boys came down to see Joe. There wasn’t a detective or a gunman that didn’t run out of the city that night. Every one of the cowards left. I had about 150 men at the hotel, and the general manager asked: “Mother, what can I do for the boys?” I said: “Send up a couple of drinks for the boys, because they need it.” There wasn’t a gunman stayed in town that night. Even the United States marshal got scared, but no- body was hurt except Joe.
That was the start of this thing. Later on I went into Wise County. Old Dad Haddow of Iowa was with me. The colored people gave us their church for the meeting. The gunmen told us we couldn’t hold a meeting there and we went out and held it at the corner of two roads. I said: “Dad, have you a pistol?” He said he had and I told him he had better show it. I told him the law said if the pistol was exposed, even a little bit, he would be safe, but if he had it concealed he might be arrested. Those hounds got around Dad and nearly tore him to pieces. They took him to the oflice and those fellows came, the general manager with them, and said: “Mother Jones, what is the matter? I am astonished, really astonished! The idea of you going into the house of God with a pistol!” “Don’t you know,” I said, “that I know God never comes around a place like this—he stays a damned long way from a place like this.”
The gunmen were there and I was arrested. The old man was nearly scared to death. They fined him $25. He didn’t want to pay it, he wanted to appeal, but I said we would pay it. I paid the $25. That evening one of the men who had been in the crowd came to me and said: “Mother Jones, I want to pay my respects to you for paying that $25 as quick as you did. The scheme was to lock you up and burn you in the coke ovens.” And you women raised those brutes! It is horrible to think of.
We battled on and here and there we organized and got better conditions for the men. In 1902 a board member and your President, John L. Lewis, went up Kelly Creek. They chased him out. I was determined to organize that Creek. I went to the town at Eastbrook and in the morning went across by ferry, then walked six miles. The company was paying two deputies to keep me out but we got into the mining camp. I told a merchant my business and he said we could use a hall over his building. I rented that for four months. I took the men down and organized them that night. The company suspected there was something wrong and the next day discharged forty of the men. Then the drivers got restless and came out. I was determined to finish the job and on Sunday went through the camp with the boys marching. I told them to ask every fellow they saw sitting on the steps of the houses to be an American and come down. They came.
We told Jack Roan, the manager, who had come over from Columbus that day, to come out. He didn’t come out. In front of the hotel were two fellows and one said: “I would like to have a rope and hang that old woman to a tree.” Another one said: “And I would like to pull the rope.” After the meeting the boys pointed those men out. I stood with my back to a tree and said: “You said you would like to hang the old woman. Here is the old woman and the tree, where is your rope?” They ran away because there were more than a thousand men at the place. Since that day there has been no strike and no disturbance, but there is one thing we failed to do—we did not educate them thoroughly, because bringing them into the union was only the kindergarten; we should have educated them after they came in but we failed to do that.