T-Day Dawns

Even hard-boiled Collectors of Internal Revenue, who are not easily fazed, were fazed on "T" (for Tax) Day. Thousands of little wage-earners, filing their first returns under the new tax law's dwarf-high exemptions ($750 for single persons), owed no tax at all. Hundreds of them paid up just the same. They sent in checks ranging from $5 to $100--unsolicited gifts to the Government, to help win the war.

Loan offices had expected to do a land-office business. For the last month, Morris Plan Banks all over the U.S. had urged needy citizens to borrow money to pay their taxes.

The grim day dawned bright and balmy. When it had sunk into the gentle arms of night, there had been no riots, no suicides, no crackups. Taxpayers had thronged U.S. banks, but not to borrow; they had wanted tax experts and free notary services.

In a few big cities--especially boom towns with thousands of new taxpayers--loan offices were swamped. People who went to loan sharks paid up to 30% interest on their money. (The Government penalty, for those financially unable to pay, is only 6%. Those who can pay, but don't, are penalized 5% per month up to a total of 25%; are also liable to a $10,000 fine, a year in jail.) These people were postponing the war, putting off the day of reckoning. When next year's taller taxes loom, they will still be whittling away at this year's.

But most taxpayers managed to rake up the money without even dipping into their savings. They forked it over cheerfully, too; only a few groused. The average taxpayer took his lumps like a little man. Citizens in overalls, nimble-legged Kitty Foyles grinned and paid up.

What they had left they spent with abandon. They knew that next year's income tax would make this year's look like a bright dime lost in a subway grating. Now they meant to have some fun. Stores were filled with feverish shoppers. Gift shops and silversmiths found business blooming. Chicago's nightclubs had their biggest night since Pearl Harbor. Most of the nation's theaters played to crowded houses.

> In Detroit, General Motors handed over what tax collectors thought was the biggest income-tax check ever written: $71,800,000. Even this paid just the first quarterly installment on General Motors' 1941 taxes.

> Into San Antonio's revenue office an Army sergeant marched 50 soldiers in uniform, to file their tax returns.

> An Atlanta liquor dealer labored over his return, locked it away overnight in the safe with his bankbook and ledgers. Next morning the safe was gone. Thieves had taken $1,400 in cash and all his records. Worst of all, the liquor dealer had to make out another return.

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