My Story (29 page)

Mr. Baker's restraint, in spite of his emotion, my own calmness — for all through the reading of the Concon's statement I had the feeling that the things it said might be about a man from Kamchatka or some place equally remote, they didn't mean
me
— only added fuel to the flaming wrath of Peter Witt. By unanimous vote he was given the floor and as he rose, he turned to me and said, “Tom, I have deferred to your wish and your judgment on many occasions, but this morning I'm going to have my say. They are all here and I'm going to give it to them. If you don't like it, you can go to hell.”

And then — and then — well I suppose it is a safe assertion that no similar body of distinguished gentlemen and leading business men was ever treated to such a scoring as those men got that day. Witt not only denounced the policy and methods of the railway company, charging that in the past it had bribed councilmen, corrupted legislators, used dishonest judges, and for months had the City Hall watched by a private detective, but one by one he called the men present by name and shaking his finger at them declared the responsibility of each for the particular things of which he held that man to be guilty. By this time the lobby was ready to roar its approval of Witt's speech but was restrained by the desire to hear every word he uttered. The incident, dramatic, almost terrible in some of its aspects, was not without its funny side. When Witt assailed the first man, by name for instance, hurling out his, “You,—— ——,” and pointing his finger at him, the gentleman thus accosted was so surprised that he slid down in his chair and doubled up as if he had suddenly received a stinging blow on top of his head.

Nobody, either then or afterwards, ever attempted to reply to that speech of Peter Witt. He closed by saying, “To grant your company a renewal of franchises would be to capitalize your past corruption that future generations might pay tribute thereon. You will never get a franchise renewal. Whether Tom Johnson be here as mayor or not, with the present temper of the people you will never be able to obtain another concession at the hands of this council. Public opinion will prevent it.”

Directly after the close of the meeting the Concon stopped selling seven tickets for a quarter and went back to the five-cent cash fare or eleven tickets for fifty cents.

These happenings occurred on Friday. Almost immediately the Cleveland
Press
addressed a letter to President Andrews and to me, asking us each to answer a question. The question put to me was whether I would recommend to the council that a guarantee of three-cent fare inside the city be included in the lease of the Cleveland Electric Railway, as proposed by Mr. Andrews. My answer was, “Yes,” and it was published on Monday. The question put to Mr. Andrews was whether if the city followed his suggestion and incorporated the three-cent fare guarantee he would lease his company on the holding plan at sixty dollars per share. His answer was, “No,” and it was published on Wednesday.

On the fifteenth of April Horace Andrews sent a communication to council saying that unless a purchaser approved by council took over the tracks and equipment of the Central and Quincy avenue lines before midnight on April 23, the company would proceed to tear up the tracks. This was a complete surprise and a week's time
was, of course, very short in which to handle so important a matter, but a council meeting was immediately called for ten a. m., April 16, and the Cleveland Railway Company requested to attend by an accredited delegate who should inform the council what the property it desired to sell consisted of, and what it considered a fair value for same. President Andrews's astounding reply to the council's communication sent
in response
to his own letter was as follows:

Could anything better illustrate the company's total disregard of the public interest than this communication? Were the people who daily used the lines in question, who were dependent upon them for service, not to be considered at all? Was it no part of the province of a city government to assist in maintaining car service on streets which had not been without it for forty years? Was this then a simple matter of buying and selling between private individuals, or between corporations which were unmindful of the patrons who made their very existence possible?

Mr. du Pont promptly sought an interview with Mr. Andrews. How satisfactory it was may be judged by
the following extracts from his (du Pont's), letter to the Cleveland Electric Directors:

Mr. du Pont then offered to buy tracks, poles, trolley, span and feed wires in place on certain streets for the sum of $149,993.19 cash, to be paid April 23 at twelve o'clock at the Citizens Savings & Trust Company, upon delivery of a good negotiable title and a promise not to interfere with the operation of the road. The Concon rejected du Pont's offer, naming $448,473 as its price, also giving no assurance that it would continue to respect the peace pact and not stop the operation of the Threefer to the Public Square. And so the war was on again, and presently the good old never-failing injunction reappeared.

The old company directly served notice on the Forest City that its operations from Fulton road, N. W., to and around the Public Square must cease, while the Low Fare Company was enjoined from operating cars on Euclid avenue between East Fourteenth and East Ninth streets. The Forest City cars continued their operations twenty-four hours after notice had been served, the peace pact having provided for a twenty-four hour notice to quit. At the end of the twenty-four hours the Forest City cars stopped running, but the service was not interrupted, the privilege of operating having been transferred to the Low Fare Company which had not yet been enjoined on this route, and which proceeded to operate its cars here. At one point the Forest City was ordered to remove a section of its track. Workmen proceeded to tear up the rails to the evident satisfaction of the old
company's representatives who were on the spot to see that the order was carried out. A messenger was sent scurrying over to the Cleveland Electric offices to report that it was all right, the tracks were coming up. When the bearer of these glad tidings got back to the scene of action he rubbed his eyes and wondered whether he was asleep or awake, for the tracks instead of coming up were going down. As soon as the Forest City rails were removed the track was replaced by the Low Fare Company with rails of its own. The whole thing was accomplished in about two hours. That was once when the injunction mill didn't grind fast enough.

At midnight on April 23, the Cleveland Electric discontinued its operations on Central and Quincy avenues, and both low-fare companies were enjoined from operating on the abandoned lines. This dog-in-the-manger policy could have but one effect in any enlightened community and I used to marvel at the short-sightedness of Privilege in so flagrantly violating all democratic traditions.

A
T
about this time I appealed to the people of the community to support the low-fare movement by subscribing to its stock. The banks of the city were far from friendly towards the enterprise and it was becoming increasingly difficult to get any help from them. It was evident that if this people's project was to succeed it must be financed by men and women of moderate means who believed in the movement and wanted it to win. The moneyed people were against it, particularly of course those who owned stock in the old company. Our fight was the more difficult because it was directed against a company owned by resident stockholders. It would probably have lacked some of the bitter personal features if the Cleveland Electric had been owned by outside stockholders. The Concon added two local bankers to its board of directors at this juncture. Public subscriptions were opened for low-fare stock making it more attractive than a savings-bank deposit, the purchaser having the privilege of surrendering his stock at will and getting back his money plus six per cent. for the time it was invested. This bothered the banks a great deal for men and women were purchasing the stock and paying for it with their savings bank deposits. It wasn't an uncommon thing for bankers to try to dissuade their depositors from such a “foolish investment,” but in spite of this money came in rapidly
— sometimes as high as one hundred thousand dollars in a single day. This novel plan of raising money had many advantages, but the savings banks were the losers, and they fought desperately to discredit it.

Photo by L. Van Oeyen

Characteristic group receiving election returns in City Hall

With the beginning of operations on the three-cent line it was suggested that a bank and trust company be established in the interests of the low-fare people and the necessity for this was apparent. In order to give them a trust company in sympathy with our movement the Depositors Savings & Trust Company was organized. The presidency was offered to a good many young bankers all of whom declined it because they feared that connection with it would cut off their careers with larger institutions. Many of them had their pay raised lest the offer of the presidency should tempt them to leave their present jobs. I was then importuned to take the presidency. I accepted it most reluctantly, for I thought it a mistake at the time and I still think my taking it was an unfortunate blunder. It put me in a position which gave my enemies a new point of attack. From first to last this enterprise gave me only care and anxiety. When, largely on account of business transactions outside the city and connected chiefly with my brother's estate, I became financially embarrassed, I called the directors together and advised the giving up of the bank. A great many of the local banks were unfriendly to the Depositors Savings & Trust Company, but a few of them acted very nicely indeed. The bank's affairs were wound up with some loss to all the stockholders, the heaviest loss being mine, because I was the largest stockholder. The depositors never lost a penny nor were they delayed a second in getting their money.

On the first of May (1907) the Concon commenced to tear up its tracks on Central avenue and continued, with more or less interruption, until that work was completed. The Low Fare Company which now had a grant on this street was enjoined from proceeding with the laying of its tracks. And so it went on day after day. Injunction followed injunction. Property owners' consents continued to complicate matters. The courts held that it was not bribery to buy consents, and some property owners signed for and against as many as five times. This decision really amounted to putting up legislation to the highest bidder, for the party who could pay the most to property owners for consents was the only one to whom council could make a valid grant. New lawsuits raising new points of law followed one another so quickly that for a while I spent more time in the Court House than I did in the City Hall. At least in one case a judge who had been nominated by our particular friends was won away by the influence of the Union Club.

During this summer the exposure of the Concon's “yellow dog” fund was made. From the company's own books and vouchers it was shown that hundreds of thousands of dollars which had been spent in fighting three-cent fare had been charged to operating expenses — that is, to the cost of carrying passengers. Real estate purchases made to control consents, exorbitant legal fees, useless newspaper advertisements and other expenditures which would, perhaps, have borne scrutiny even less well were charged to operation.

When public service corporations spend money to defeat the people's interests the cost must eventually come out of the people themselves in added cost of service.
Just as the people's money in savings banks is so frequently used in the perpetuation of Privilege, so too is it used by the public service monopolies. It is the people who use the commodities the public service corporations have to sell who furnish the money for “jack pots,” for “yellow dog” funds, for the funds under whatever name, that are used to preserve and safeguard the power of Privilege.

It was a summer of continual and bitter strife. I did not go out of town at all except for an occasional few days at a time. I announced early that I was a candidate for reelection — in fact that I should continue to be a candidate for mayor at each recurring election until I was defeated. The most determined opposition that I had so far encountered began to crystallize into a great movement to defeat me. The fight was now so intense that many people who had never been active before began to take sides. The banks, the Chamber of Commerce, the leading business men, all the privileged crowd were a unit against me and were exerting themselves to find a Republican candidate who could defeat me.

They selected Theodore Burton, now United States Senator, then member of Congress from the Cleveland district. Mr. Burton was serving his seventh term in Congress and had been twice returned without opposition. His political position was considered as strong as his personal reputation was high. Mr. Burton didn't want to be a candidate. He had no ambition for municipal politics. He didn't like the affiliation between his party and the traction ring. But the pressure was great and the newspapers said that President Roosevelt and cabinet secretaries Taft and Garfield joined with the local Republican
leaders in an effort to persuade him that he was called upon to sacrifice his seat in Congress in order to save the fair name of his city. He yielded and in announcing his willingness to accept the nomination, said in a public statement:

Mr. Burton was nominated September 7, and the only part of his platform that it is necessary to consider here was the plank which dealt with the street railway question and read as follows:

It was in this campaign that we nominated E. B. Haserodt, Republican councilman, at the Democratic primaries after he had failed of nomination by his own party. His defeat in the Republican primaries was his punishment for having voted with the administration on street railway matters. So we nominated and elected him on the Democratic ticket.

The Democratic Convention was held September 21 and besides myself the other candidates nominated were C. W. Lapp for vice mayor, Carl H. Nau for treasurer, Mr. Baker for solicitor, Springborn, Leslie and Cooley for board of public service. From the convention hall I sent a letter by messenger to Mr. Burton inviting him to engage in a series of joint debates. The first big campaign lie was already in circulation. Somebody had told somebody who had told somebody else who had told Burton that a certain man had been coerced
into supporting the administration by the arbitrary refusal of a building permit. We sifted this story to the very bottom, proved that it wasn't true in a single particular, presented the proofs to Mr. Burton and his managers but never got a retraction from them. It wasn't a very auspicious beginning for a dignified campaign.

Mr. Burton refused to meet me in debate proposing instead that we fight out the issues through the columns of the daily press. Of course there was nothing for us to do but to accept this substitute.

Never perhaps was there a campaign anywhere in which the community as a whole took such an interest and in which such intense personal feeling was manifested.

Privilege was fighting with its back to the wall now and stopped at nothing in the way of abuse or persecution, not of me only but of the men associated with me. At their clubs our boys were treated with such open contempt, such obvious insult that many of them felt they could not endure it and stayed away altogether. They were cut on the street by men they had known for years. They were made to feel like aliens in their own city. And this treatment didn't stop with the men. It was extended to their wives and children. To be “for Johnson” was the cardinal social sin and society proceeded to mete out its punishment of ostracism. Everywhere the campaign was the town talk. In banks and factories, in offices and stores, on the cars, in the homes, in the schools. Women talked it to their domestics, to the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker, to the clerks in the stores, to their dressmakers and their milliners. Even little children in the public schools engaged in the controversy. While the issues were being thus fought out
among the people in personal ways public meetings were being held nightly attended by vast throngs.

Mr. Burton very early exhibited a surprising ignorance of local affairs. None of us had suspected that he was really so little informed on the questions at issue. Now the electorate of Cleveland had had a lot of education on many civic questions and on the street railway problem in particular. They commenced to ask Burton questions which he couldn't answer. They heckled him so mercilessly that we were in daily dread of the reaction which would probably result from this. The opposition newspapers persistently played up this feature of the campaign by reporting that it was “Johnson hoodlums” who disturbed the Burton meetings. Many people no doubt believed that our side was responsible for these disturbances but it wasn't true. The trouble was that Mr. Burton was trying to discuss matters which were strange and unfamiliar to him with men and women who knew all about them, and when they asked him questions he didn't tell them he couldn't answer, but tried to make believe that he could answer if he would, but that for some reason known only to himself he preferred not to do so. It wasn't unusual for him to promise at the beginning of a meeting to answer questions at its close, and then when he finished speaking to put on his coat and in the midst of a burst of music from the band hurry off to another meeting without giving a chance for questions. He couldn't fool those people. He complained that he couldn't keep order in his meetings. I sent him word that I would send the whole police force to take care of his meetings if he liked, or I would agree to come myself alone and guarantee to preserve order.