V for Vice

Gaudy old Galveston (pop. 75,000) has been a wide-open sin city and the gaudy shame of Texas since the days when Pirate Jean Lafitte made it his island playground. Prostitution flourishes in the houses of Post Office Street, one of the last unabashed red-light districts in the nation. After-hours gin mills and gambling joints thrive in defiance of Texas laws, under the tacit protection of kickback-hungry city officials. From time to time, ambitious reformers have made feeble efforts to clean up Galveston, but the town has always quickly returned to its wicked ways, partly because the tourists like it that way--and also, apparently, because Galvestonians do, too.

In 1955 the relaxed, eight-year regime of Herbert Y. ("Thanks a million") Cartwright was overthrown by George Roy Clough, a terrible-tempered businessman (radio and TV), who promised to maintain the city in a state of honest sin--to let the gambling and prostitution go merrily unchecked, but to cut out the protection payoffs. Clough's program worked well enough to win him re-election in 1957, but then things began to go sour.

Mayor Clough (rhymes with tough) suddenly began lambasting everyone and everything in sight, from the United Fund charity ("a legalized racket") to the highly prized local University of Texas Medical School ("a bunch of quacks"). He attempted, unsuccessfully, to cover up a $40,000 shortage of city funds, and two months ago he drove a citizen from city hall at pistol point.

To make matters worse, two years ago Texas Attorney General Will Wilson cracked down on vice, padlocked gambling joints and brothels, arrested tavern owners, dumped most of Galveston's slot machines into the Gulf of Mexico. Sin has had tough going since then, what with the presence of two Texas Rangers and spot raids by state liquor agents, and the madams, hoodlums and gambling interests have never felt the same about George Clough, who allowed it all to happen.

Last week Galveston went to the polls, cast its vote in favor of the bad old days. In again as mayor, with a 651-vote plurality: beefy, convivial Herbie Cartwright, 44, who did nothing to contradict the quietly spread word that vice might be revived again. Clough, 68, who ran a poor third in the four-way race, was rebuffed but undaunted. Said he: "I am going to sit on the sidelines and watch the people suffer for their mistake. May God have mercy on Galveston!"

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