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FOLKLORE
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Reminiscences Of A Rebel -(as told by
Wayne Walden,51 Bank St.
Gotober 17,1938
emaininR
one desirous of/anonymous.0 /0//
-°It was/during the days when we were trying to organize the agricul-
in 1915,
ural workers in the Dakot&arvest fields.Pat Kilcoin,a new convert to
the aims,structure and methods of our union,had never before heard such
words as we used.The very pkrase 'economic interpretation of historyiwasi
to Pat, a huge mouthful. 'The materialist conception',I6,ourgeoise,Proletar-
iat- when you could use tharkind of words you had attained erudition.
But to really be one of us,a fullafledged card member of our fighting
fraternity,alfellow-Worker! equal in rank to the highest brow among us
that,indeed,was enough to swell Pat's pride,as well as his head.,
When,in listening to our discussions,you heard a guy use teconomics'you
weretor should have been,convinced that the guy was educated and a deep
thinker.To employ such terms yourself was to be eligible for the inner
circle,if we would have had one;at least you would have been looked up to,
by the likes of Pat. However,Pat,having become one of us,listened even
more eagerly to our words.He liked them,and strove to add a few to his
own vocabulary.
Leaving us one morning for a trip into town,Pat returned
at evening in a joyful mood.Hebtoojwas an intellectual.He now knew a
thing or three himself.This,as he came plunging into our 'jungles; is
what he excitedly proclaimed: 'Wot d'ye tink happened to me today! I goes
in to die hoozier burg here for some cigs,and was hoofinlit up the main
stem,see,and I gets to talkin' to a bloke,see,so I starts to tell him
something.Purty soon I find out he dont know a damn thing.Why,the bloody
scissorbill,he didn't even know wot an economic is.I busted him one on
the ear,and I'll bet he'll know from now on.',
iThose were great days,alright.Te were all sure that the worker's common-
wealth was just around the corner.For a time the slaves came tumbling in
as fast as our delegates could write 'em out tickets.the 0.B.U.message
off tinDevc
was being spread like wildfire.Whereever you went,in the jungles,railroad
A
Wayne Walden
-2- Cct.17,1938
Reminiscences of a Rebel. (Anonymous)
water-tanks,harvest fields,woods camps,the mining towns -in fact wherever
two guys met,you'd hear us being either praised or damned.In the towA,at
our street meetings,we'd break in as speakers fellows who never faced a
crowd in their lives before.Some of them became in time fairly good spell-
binders,but some,of course,never amounted to a damn.And it was these birds
who caused us the greatest embarrassment -these punk kind,I mean -for they
were always ready to spout,and would rush in where a wiser guy wouldn't
feel so cockeyed sure of himself.I still shudder at theIlop I saw a guy
pull off out in Seattle,in either '15 or '16.That gink was worse,if any-
thing,than Pat I was telling you about.
/The large auditorium of the Labor Temple was crowded with people.They
had come to hear a variety of outstanding speakers on a variety of what
might be considered burning issues.A clergyman, in behalf of religion,preachd
a beautifically worded harangue;a leading local F of L ite orated melodious-
ly upon the great A.F.of L;a socialist spoke most eloquently upon his par-
ticular philosophy -it was a verbal fireworks worth listening to,I'm telling
you.Every speaker seemed inspired and,gs I said,they put it over in grand
style.But I waited.Naturally,I had an idea that the best was yet to come.
I kept expecting a Wobbly speaker,who would have something real to say -one
whose eloquence would be on a par at least with any of the others,but whose
message would far transcend in importance anything they had said.So I wait-
ed for the appearance of one of our own speakers.Being the lastwould be
fine,I thought;getting in his say-so at the windup of the whole series,'
thought,would leave the crowd with something to think about.We had some
damned good speakers too,there was Ellis,and Belmont,and J.P.Thompsortnd
others also.But where the devil were they:Anyhow,none of them showed up.
Finally,out saunters a guy who the chairman said would represent the Wobs.
I had seen the guy several times so when I saw him coming forth now,my heart
wor
sank.Well,this iskhe said,and mind you,it was right after all the others
(7ontinued from page two)
-3- Wayne ialden
Oct.4,1938
Reminiscences Of A "ebel.
had shot the works in the grand style I mentioned:
'Ladies and Gents, I -I aint much of a speaker,but there'd one thing to it.
Y!aint goin'to get nowhere unless y'g.t in the one big union.You gotta
lineup in the 0.B.U.to gt anywhere.Uh-you just gotta,thas all.You've
kiRc/<
been listenin'to the crap of a lot of other guys this afternoon and what
'd they tell you?ilawthint.Well,ladies and gents and fellow workers,I aint
much of a speaker,but there's one thing to it;you gotta organize for pork
chops.Git in the right kind of a gang.Use yer bean -if y' got one.So,ladies
and gents,as I was saying,' guess I aint much of a speaker and,I1,11 now
pull the chain.' As T-bone Slim would say,I was mortified.Mortification
set right in"
41v7hen,there was cross-eyed Cunningham,about the ugliest ding you ever laid
eyes upon.He was a hell of a nice little fellow but,gosh ,what a homely
mug he carried around with him.Not only was he cross-eyed,but he had a
snozzle on him that ought to have got him a job in the circus.lie wasn't
any bigger than a pint of whisky.ki gammatty He'd have had to stand on
a soap -box to kick a duck from behind.But he was a witty little cuss though.
Some of the bunch was kidding him one day about his looks.They was rubbing
it in kind of hard.The average guy would have gotten sore about some of the
things they said to him.But he didn't get sore.'Say',he says to them, 'when
I was in the navy,I was the best lookin' kid anyone ever saw.Why,two Admir-
als once fought a duel over me.'11.
/In Chicago,Sam Scarlett was delivering a streetmeeting lecture.That
was just before our getting into the war, In 1916.Sam was a crackerjack
speaker,and his Scotch wit was generally ready for whatever happened.
At that time some rather nasty cracks were fashlonable concerning us.A fav-
orite one was taking the initials of our organizatrbon and twisting them
(Continued from page three)
Reminiscences Of A Rebel.
Wayne Walden
-4. Oct.18,1938
out of all semblance to what it really was.Industrial Workers of the World,
usually shortened to just I.W.W.,became frequently,by those against us,as
I wont workortI want whisky,or some such foolish taunt.
,Well,as Sam was talking,a big shiny limousine pulls up on the outskirts
of his meeting,and soon as the elegantly attired lady within had satisfied
herself as to the nature of his speech,she shrieks forth 'I wont work'.
Sam turns around and says)'You dont need to boast about it madam.It is
obvious without your shouting it.We are all aware as to how you make your
living.But I'm talking to working men,men,contrary to you,who will work,
and do work,and would also prefer to see the likes o f even youldo a little
work once in a while.' I,
1 r
Reminiscences of a Rebel;11),104441s)
As told by John Turnei.
(Wayne Walden
Oct.26,1938)
About as funny a darned farce as I ever saw,was one we pulled off in
Minneapolis,at a smoker,right after we came in from the harvesting of
1915. The farce was mainly written by Charlie #shliegh,who was the
literary light among us,but several others of us had a hand in it.
el
About a dozen of us were the actors including Ashliblaghlwho took the
part of an eccentric CountsPreviousto being attracted and starting to
hobnob with us Wobblies,Count de Kak*ak had been roaming the world in
search of some Copenhagen Snuff mines.In a high stove -pipe hat,a swallow-
tailed coat and a monocle,4shleigh,who could affect the English accent to
4i-144 -tvr4
perfection,was about the last word 1Wa Count. AM& bap
The scene opened with a bunch of u3laying around a fire scratching ourselves
It is early in the morning.For a fire we had run an extension down to the
stage floor with a couple of electric lights partly covered with stuffito
make it look real.On the other side of the fire were some harvest stiffs
who were scissorbills.Pretty soon they gets up and starts in to make some
coffee for themselves.We other stiffs,representing the Wobblies,let 'em
get everything all set,oand then took over the Java for ourselves.The scissors
didn't like that ,but they liked still less being told that we were conduct-
ing a general strike and that no one could go to work until we won it.
'But I °nig got eleven dollars,*nd I need some laundry done,one of the
scissorbills spoke up.Imagine the kind of a guy who would be rarin to pt
work with eleven dollars in his possession! Why,that was more than most of
us had as our whole stake at the end of the harvest!
This general strike was supposed to be the last spasm of our struggle
to bring the Dawn of a New Day for the workers of the world.So we couldn't
afford to let the scissorbills go out to work and help defeat us,
'Well this is a free country aint it?; another one of the scissors says as
he starts to go.'It will be'says one of the Wobblies,when we g et you
14 carat,ivory domed scissorbills to line up and help make it frees
Reminiscences of a rebel (Wayne Walden
Oct .2638
As told by John Turner
Well,these particular slaves saw the error of their trying to get away/
so they took out cards which were issued to them by Teddy Frazier.Ted, in
the play,was 'Line -em -up Shorty'rd was disguised as a preacher.We accom-
plished the disguise by putting a white collar on him the wrong way,and a
black flat-topped hat.
Well,as the strike goes on,and we stick it out,we finally exaust
the patience of every farmer in the whole district,so that they gave up
fighting us and were ready to listen to reason.All except one fool farmer
who reading the capitalist's press,thought he,with the aid of the, law,could
whip us into submission. The'Law'was bred hardy,a little runt about five
feet two inches tallywhile the part of Lydia Pinchem,his daughter,was play-
ed by Scotty MacPherson,who stood six feet four and looked even taller in
the female getup we had him rigged out in.Scotty was a scream as Lydia
Pinchem,and the contrast between her and her old man,the sheriff,was about
as ludicrous as they come. Hardy was made up as sheriffs with a long droop
ten -gallon
ing mustache with other disfigurements,and a at hat on his head that came
down over his ears.I'm telling this from a memory of it thatind, doubt)leaves
out quite a few of the real points of the farce.There were some really funny
parts to it that was great stuff.
Anyhow while we stood around in the jungles,expecting to be raided by the
fl
dreaded sheriff,someone conctives the brilliant idea that it might help
matters if one of us could woo and win over the daughter,the fair Lydia
herself.That job falls to the Count.He,above all,was best qualified by
birth,manner and experience.So pretty soon,when we hear from off stage,but
supposedly from out among the surrounding trees,the shrill and silly voice
of Lydia Pinchem,singing on her way to our jungles,we beats it leaving the
stage to/Lunt de Kakyakmto carry out the love scene.
Lydia comes in,and,seeing the Count,begins to cavort around befitting
American
a young and innocent/girl suddenly smitten by the charms of a nobleman.
tie -3- (7ayne laalden
Oct.26,'38)
Reminiscences of r rebel
As told by John lurner
We depended upon the Count.His success in this love making was of tremen-
dous importance to us,despite that we had,/by our economic might,brought
paralysis upon the whole agrarian industry.Well,into the jungles stumbles
our cooking
the large and ungainly sheriff's daughter,almost wrecking aximptking
utensils,and knocking over AsIleigh in her wild charge.
partly rising,
Ashleigh,the Count,m& mommate,remains on one knee,and adjusting his monocle,
gazes up at the towering Lydia.'Ah;he says,what is this before me! Surely
'Us no living maiden that see,but some wood -nymph! Or,perchance,some
disordered vision of my white -lime dreams: Ah,do but speak and assure me
that I have at last found what I have sought throughtout a long and checker-
ed career.' Giggling,and with a finger in her mouth,Lydia Pinchum answers:
'Oh -this strange feelin' in my bosumht feels like cascarets.Can I be in
love,or is itthat sauerkraut I et.' And are you a real live Count,she says,
her
as she picks him up and hugs him to/rag-stuffed breast.
After a little the sheriff comes on the scene.He confronts the pair of
11
lovers and demands of Lydia information as to her boy friend.Oh father,
forgive md,she says,tbut 'live et me last meal tat under your crool roof,
and me and me Count is fleein' fur away.I'm even quittin' me job of pearl
glaumin' in Starvum's greasy hash joint;and me dear father,you can go
for ii
plumb to hellyant I'm going to jointthe Wobblies,she says.
kTell,daughter:tays the sheriffyi'm right glad to get rid of you.Never
was a greater apittite than yours,you great Galput lay off the Wobblies,"
he saysiland go back to your jobfAlo,nosicput in the Count,seizing one of
V
Scotty's big paws -I mean Lydia's,never shall these little fingerettes
again be sullied in sordid dishwaterliMMOONIMMINIIMINIP1111111111111010*
By this time the rest of us actors had,one or two at a time,come back
on the stage and again became a part of the breath -taking beauty of the
scene.When about all of us were back,in rushes the one fool farmervilskilt-
iniscences of a rebel
told by John Turner
(Wayne Walden,
Oct.26,'38.)
7
Puffing,he pointed at us and hollers-4That's tlii4-m)sheriffparrest them.
Dont let 'em get away: Quick04he says,put'am in the hoosgowIFBut just as
he is pleading,a terrifically loud explosion is heard off-stage.The hai:eeed/
looking skyward moans l'there goes my new autymobile:Another explosion is
heard.This time he shrieks.4Tarnation,by the looks of them pieces,there
goes my new threshing machine!"
Just then Line- em -up --Shorty comes on and reports that every scissorbill
in the entire territory had taken out cards.and,no longer scissorbills,were
now wobblies in good standing.This news was too much for John Farmer.He,
casts one agonized look at the undisguised organizer,whodhe thoughtjwas
a friend as well as a preacher,and falls dead. The slariff,realizing that' 10
the class struggle was over,and himself no longer in power,runs like hell
to get away from everything.We start singing'We're coming home John Farmer";
sure -enough
the curtain drops;and.we come out to find the place warming with/cops,and
ourselves under arrest.We weren't in the can long though,for we didn't happen
to be the particular wobblies they were after.It was a funny darned farce.
Another by Turner. ''f(* 7.3 -iii (141 /fcc (rat)
Te all liked Joe Hill.His execution was a blow to us all.His songs,, of
sarcasm and rebel defiance in our little red sonOR xpressed the
sen-
timent of most of us.Te were proud of him and recognized him as a great
Wobblie.But even those of us who trully revered him were a bit skeptical
of some of the assertions about him.For instance,out in the Pot Latch coun-
try,not long after Hill had been killed,Joe Ratti was acting as literature
seller at one of our meetings.Holding up a little song book he said:Fellow-
TorkersT'Fle wants to sell you dese songs,for dese dongs and the music you
de
sings 'em to,was written by fellow -worker Joe Hill,and dat guy was kke gx2x
greatest pote and greatest musician in de whole world.'
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