Blood in New Orleans

Blood splattered on the marble floor of the New Orleans City Hall last week as, for a second time, the street car strike in that city went berserk. Politics and Labor mixed to make an unholy brew of violence.

In July, 2,000 trolleymen struck against Public Service, Inc. Riots and sabotage followed the importation of strikebreakers (TIME, July 15). Through New Orleans streets rattled and clanked hundreds of nondescript "taxicabs" ready to carry for 10-c- a public out of sympathy with the trolley company. A New Orleans ordinance provides that all such conveyances must first post a $5,000 indemnity bond, a requirement which few if any of the taxi operators could or would meet. Last week the City Council prepared to enforce the ordinance, with the almost certain prospect of putting the taxis out of business, of forcing the public back to the empty trolleys, of weakening the effect of the strike.

Up the three flights of steps to the colonnaded City Hall marched several hundred strikers and sympathizers. At a mass meeting the night before they had heard Gus Williams, Recorder of Mortgages, Labor candidate for Mayor, urge them to "storm the City Hall until your demands are satisfied." Within the massive stone building, they turned down the righthand corridor, pressed into the Council Chamber, overflowed its 150 chairs, jammed themselves against the creaky wooden railings. With George Washington and Andrew Jackson looking down from the walls, they booed the police, cheered their leaders, itched for action. Behind a table sat the Council, headed by T. Semmes Walmsley, 46, redheaded, affable Acting Mayor.

Absent from his august seat was Arthur J. O'Keefe, monster (300 lb.) Mayor of New Orleans. The tribulations of the strike had worn him to a frazzle, threatened him with a nervous breakdown. On "leave of absence" he had gone to his summer home at Bay St. Louis, Miss., 50 miles away, to loll in the warm waters of the Gulf.

For the strikers one E. F. Foster presented a petition asking for the repeal of the taxicab ordinance. He said 50,000 names were signed to it.

Acting Mayor Walmsley: We'll take the matter under advisement. I want the authenticity of these names checked first.

A Voice: Booooo! We want action now!

Other Voices: Action--Big Bums-- Booooo! Now--Action--Hissssss.

Acting Mayor Walmsley: Meeting adjourned!

Councilmen rose, started to worm their way out through the crowd. A woman called Mr. Walmsley a dirty name. A man clouted him in the stomach. He hit back. A free-for-all fight started. One councilman was knocked almost unconscious by a blow on the neck. The crowd became a mob. Into the affray waded Police Captain Henry Melson, unpopular with the strikers for his "rough stuff." Up went the cry: "Get Melson!'' He was "gotten"-- crushed to the floor, kicked, cuffed, pounded, pummeled. He drew his gun, fired shots along the floor, hit two legs, a toe, an arm in the crowd. Blood ran. Police sirens shrieked for reserves. Night sticks twirled, the mob swirled. It took an hour to drive the rioters out of the City Hall, down the steps. A trolley was passing on St. Charles St. The crowd jerked off its rod, stoned in its windows, punched up its "scab" motorman. For violating a Federal injunction protecting Public Service property, three men were seized by U. S. marshals, sentenced to jail by U. S. Circuit Court Judge Rufus Foster.

Next day Acting Mayor Walmsley declared: "Anarchy must cease." In answer two street cars were dynamited. Labor leaders called upon the Council to apologize, to repudiate Gus Williams as a "red." The Council proclaimed the attack as "the most unheard of demonstration in the history of the city," ordered more policemen recruited.

Promptly the police began to enforce the taxi ordinance, arrested 40 drivers without bond. Taximen, at the strikers' instigation, commenced to circumvent the ordinance by posting "Free Ride" stickers on their cars, accepting voluntary "contributions" from passengers. Public Service, Inc. met this move by hiring persons to ride the free taxis, to contribute nothing, to "break down the service."

Public Service trolleys had their front scoops or fenders wired up to prevent the derailing of cars from obstacles placed on the tracks by strikers. A three-year-old girl was ground to death under a fenderless trolley. Strikers dug up a city ordinance requiring fenders in position, caused the arrest of Herbert B. Flowers, president of Public Service, 27 non-union motormen.