The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation
The person that told me of him, said that he asked Mr. Grogan if he sold
liquor. His answer was: "No, I got enough of that in Medicine Lodge."
This Mr. Smith became a wreck for a time, and lost his business in Sharon.
After I came out of jail in Wichita the third time, I met a man on the
street and he made himself known as the Smith of Sharon. He looked
quite well and said he had quit drinking entirely and was a real estate
dealer in Wichita.
I soon heard of its being told around in Medicine Lodge that I drank
beer in a dive. So I went to Hank O'Bryan's restaurant and said: "Some
of these jointists are telling that I drank in a dive. Now if it comes to the
ears of the public, I will have to go on the witness stand and tell where I
drank beer." Hank turned pale, looked comical and I never heard any
more of that.
There was a saloon keeper in Kiowa, named "Billy" Morris and living
with him as his wife was a girl whose name was Cora Bennett. This
poor girl had been living an irregular life, but was true to this man, who
had promised her time after time to marry her, but was only deceiving
her. She entered his bar room one day and told him he must fulfill his
promise to her now, or she would kill him. He tried to laugh at her. She
fired a shot and killed him on the spot; then the poor girl fell on his dead
body screaming in a distracted manner. She was arrested and brought to
jail at Medicine Lodge; and was there six months. Being Jail Evangelist I
went to see her, sometimes twice a week. When I first saw her she was
reticent, and did not seem glad to see me. She was so nice, that I fell in
love with her and I asked the ladies of the W. C. T. U. to visit her, but
they thought her a hopeless case. She bought a Bible and we would read
and pray together and talked about the need of Christ in our lives. She
was a woman of great sympathy. I asked her once: "Did you ever love
anyone." She wept bitterly and said: "Yes, the man I killed."
Toward the last she seemed perfectly delighted when I came to her
cell. She, consented to go to a home where she would have friends who
would keep her, to make a change in her life. The morning she left I
went to the jail and rode with her in the hack to the depot and then to a
town about twenty miles east of Medicine Lodge, called Attica. On the
train from Medicine Lodge to Attica, the deputy sheriff had some man
to give this girl a letter from him, telling her to meet him at Wellington.
The girl's father lived at Attica, and an older sister of her's met us. I
could see the sister was not a good woman, and she took Cora to a room
and exchanged the modest hat and dress for a showy hat and elaborate
silk dress; and when I saw her it almost broke my heart. I said to her:
"Oh, Cora, all my work to save you is in vain." I had rather have seen
her drop dead, and I grieved all the way home. From Attica she went to
Wellington, instead of Olathe, Kansas, where she was to enter this home.
James Dobson was sheriff of Barber County and his brother kept a
saloon in Kiowa, the first saloon I ever smashed.
I heard no good news of Cora for some years; she led a bad life.
Five years later, through a W. C. T. U. lecturer, I heard that she was
married and living in Colorado; and she was an efficient worker as a W.
C. T. U. woman; among fallen women. She told of her past life and of a
Mrs. Nation visiting her. This woman said it was so incredible to believe
that Cora could have been so bad, and had taken a human life, that she
was anxious to see the place in Kiowa and to see Cora's prison cell and
myself. I was then in Oklahoma, and I certainly rejoiced over this news
from her I had learned to love. I saw in this wayward girl certain qualities
that would be a power for good, if once God could have His way
with her life.
There are diamonds in the slush and filth of this world. Happy is he
who picks them up and helps to wash the dirt away, that they may shine
for God. I am very much drawn to my fallen sisters. Oh! the cruelty
and oppression they meet with! If the first stone was cast by those who
were guiltless, those who were to be stoned would rarely get a blow.
O. L. DAY'S DRUG STORE.
There was a druggist, O. L. Day, in Medicine Lodge who was unlawfully
selling intoxicating liquor. He himself was drinking; also his clerk.
I got a knowledge of a deposit of this contraband goods. I put a little
boy on my buggy horse and sent a letter to our dear Sister Cain, who
was president of our local union. She called several of the women together
at our W. C. T. V. room and made known to them what I knew of
O. L. Day receiving these intoxicants. There was a great deal of discussion,
but at last it was decided that we should investigate. At that
time I was regarded as a fanatic, and many of these were afraid for me to
plan for them, so I kept very quiet. It was finally agreed that Mrs. A. L.
Noble and Mrs. Runyan should go first and see how matters were. Sister
Runyan finally said before we got there: "Let Mrs. Nation go in my
place." I said: "Thank God!" Oh, I was so glad, for I felt that I could
handle this case.
{illust. caption =
THIS IS A PICTURE OF A SOCIETY I ORGANIZED IN DEWEY COUNTY, OKLA., WHEN WE
LIVED IN DOUGOUTS. WE WOULD GO FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE, WASH, SEW, CLEAN HOUSE,
AND OTHERWISE HELP THE HELPLESS.}
O. L. Day was a real gentleman by nature. He was the man with
one fault, and that was alcoholism. Mrs. Noble said: "You do the talking."
While we were in the W. C. T. U. room discussing, Sister Runyan
said: "I will not have anything to do with this if Mrs. Nation does." I
kept still, praying for the raid to go through, even if I was not in it; and
when it came to the point, I had just what I wanted. I felt entirely equal
to the occasion. Sister Runyan did not understand me then, for we are
the best of friends and she has been true to me in my efforts to defend
the homes of Kansas. I told Mr. Day, we, as a W. C. T. U. thought he had
not been dealing fairly, and I looked at his little back room suspiciously,
as much as to say: "I would like to see what you have in there." He
said: "Ladies would you like to go in the room?" I said: "Yes." I
knew I could discover the secret. I saw behind the prescription case a
ten gallon keg. I said to myself: "That is a find." About this time the
rest of the women, accompanied by Sister Cain, came in the front door.
Mr. Day was as white as death all the time. As soon as he went to the
front I smelled the keg bung. I turned it on one side and rolled it to the
front saying; "Women, this is the whiskey!" Mr. Day's clerk caught
the end of the keg to turn it out of my hands and on the other side of it
was Jim Gano, the marshal, who I think hauled all the divekeepers' goods
to them. He was a Republican and in with the whiskey ring and a
"rummy" himself. I then placed a foot on each side of the keg and held
it firm with both feet and hands. Jim Gano sprang in front of me and
with his chest against my head, I thought certainly he would break my
neck. I called to the women to help me. Mrs. Noble caught him by one
side of the collar and some one the other side and held him back against
the counter until I could roll the keg out into the street. All this time
Sister Cain, like a general, was saying: "Don't any one touch these
women. They are right. They are christian women, trying to save the
boys of our state." I called for a hatchet from the hardware store of Mr.
Case. He was very angry and said: "No!" He also, was drinking too
much. I called to Mrs. Noble to get a sledge hammer from the blacksmith
shop across the street. She did and handed it to me. I struck with all my
might. The whiskey flew high in the air. The ladies came near to pour
it out, but I said: "Save some." So Sister Runyan got a bottle and filled
it. Then we poured it out and set it afire. I fell on my knees in the middle
of the street and thanked God for this victory. Dr. Gould, a man
"fit for treason, stratagem and spoils," was the one to help Day dispose
of these drinks, as many doctors do. This doctor gave out that this was
"California Brandy", costing seventy-five dollars, that he had advised Day
to get it for medical purposes.
Mr. Day was at this time getting a permit to sell it for medical purposes.
He appeared in court to prove he was a graduated pharmacist,
never drank, and never had a clerk that did. The W. C. T. U. were there
in a body. We contested his right to have the permit. Poor man. I
pitied him. He was very much under the influence of intoxicants. When
asked; "What that was in the keg the ladies rolled out of his drug store
on the 16th of February?" he said: "It was California brandy." When
asked: "If he knew the taste of whiskey and brandy," he said: "Yes."
We handed him a bottle of this that he said was brandy. He pronounced
it "a poor quality of sour mash whiskey." Sister Runyan was then put
on the stand and said: "It came from the keg that was smashed."
This man was so humbled that he sold out in a month and left Medicine Lodge.
There are parties in that town who are more responsible
than O. L. Day. They did every thing in their power to have him do that
which was his ruin. In retaliation for this the republican rum element
one night made an attack on Sister Cain's and my house, broke windows
and threw rocks, and broke my buggy. They also sent a negro to my
house, named Haskel, a noted bootlegger. He asked for an interview.
He had quite a tale to tell me about hearing some men say that if the
women appeared against Day that my house would go. I am so well
acquainted with the colored race I could read him from the first and knew
that these "Rummies" had put this negro up to intimidate me. I listened
as if I believed. Then I said: "Haskel you ought to know by this time
that such men as these will not prevent me from doing my duty, besides
should my home be burned, it would be a lecture in favor of my cause
that would be worth more to me than the home. Now Haskel you get in
the company of these men and you tell them what I have told you." This
negro pretended to me that he came to me as a friend. When I told him
what I did, his expression was amusing to see.
CHAPTER VII.
SPIRITUAL LEADINGS.--JESUS A CONSCIOUS PRESENCE THREE DAYS.--LOSS OF
LIBERTY BY COMPROMISING.--THE PRICE PAID TO BE REINSTATED.--DISGRACE
TO BE A MILLIONAIRE
I had once while in Medicine Lodge, a heavenly rapture for three
days. My Savior was my constant companion. I saw no form, heard no
word. But His dear face was just behind and looking over my right shoulder.
He was a conscious presence and the deep peace was beyond any
experience I ever had. I shunned the society of persons. I would talk
to Him, would sing and play the accompaniment on the organ. I was
particular about my home work. While I saw no face, or form, I realized
that His was a sweet, smiling, gratified expression, and it told me I was
pleasing Him. I did not seem then to think this anything wonderful, and
have often reproached myself for not setting more store by this at the
time.
There was a period of from six months to a year that I was terribly
haunted by a feeling as if hung over a precipice. I was hanging
only by a rope above my head held by a hand out of a cloud. At night or in
the day, it was the same uneasy dread of falling. The precipice below
was black and horrible. There were banks on each side. At last I swung
over, landing on the right side. Oh! the relief!
When I first began to pray in public I was very awkward, never could
make any but what one would call a disconnected prayer, that never seems
to be impressive in an audience.
I asked an old-fashioned sister, who I knew was a saint, to tell me
what was wrong in my testimony. "I do not have liberty when I speak."