Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924

Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924

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Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas RR 1924
 
The Harrison Riot or The Reign of the Mob on The Missouri and North Arkansas Railroad by Rev. J.K. Farris
Hard Cover
195 pages
Copyright 1924
Contents
CHAPTERPAGE
INTRODUCTION.9
I.-THE STRIKE ON THE M. & N. A. RAILWAY.17
II.-THE NEW PREACHER COMES TO HARRISON.24
III.-THE FATAL FEUD 37
IV.-"FOR OPEN SHOP, SHOW YOUR CARD"43
V.-JACK MURRAY, THE GENERAL MANAGER 53
VI.-SISTER PRISCILLA. 61
VII.-BROTHER MACK, THE GEOLOGIST . 72
VIII.-THE MOB COMES AT LAST82
IX.-THE MURDER OF E. C. GREGOR 90
X.-A TOUCHING SCENE IN THE GREGOR HOME.1O2
XI.-LEAVING THE HOUSE RIDDLED BY BULLETS. 111
XII.-AN EARLY MORNING FLOGGING. 12O
XIII.-A RELIEF COMMITTEE THAT DID NOT RELIEVE 128
XIV.-NABOTH'S VINEYARD .138
XV.-LIFE IN DEATH, AND DEATH IN LIFE. 145
XVI.-A TEMPTATIONS CURSE GOD AND DIE!155
XVII.-THE STRIKERS EVICTED FROM THEIR HOMES. 163
XVIII.-THE LAW VERSUS THE MOB172
XIX.-THE INVESTIGATIONS A JUDICIAL CLEANSING180
XX.-THE AFTERMATH OF IT ALL. 186
INTRODUCTION:
MY first close acquaintance with railroad men began with the month of December, 1901, when I became the pastor of the Methodist Church at Wynne, Arkansas. It was at that time a town of two thousand inhabitants. The population consisted largely of railroad men and their families. The town is forty-five miles west of Memphis, Tennessee, and sixty miles north of Helena, Arkansas. The Memphis branch of the old Iron Mountain Railway and the Helena branch of the same road have their crossing there. It was and is still the division headquarters, and train crews run in every direction; most of the trainmen live at Wynne.
My first public service, after assuming the duties of my pastorate there, was to officiate at the funeral of a young man, a brakeman, who was accidentally killed at Bald Knob on the day after my arrival at Wynne. He was the first of many others whose lives were lost while in the employ of the railroad and whose funerals I held. I think the total number was nine, including Frank Carey, the trainmaster, whose remains I accompanied to Rockford, Illinois, the place of burial.
I discovered early in my pastorate there that the railroad men made loyal friends; they were a big-hearted, generous set of men and quickly responded to any offer of friendship and reciprocated in kind. If they had their weaknesses they also had their virtues, and the latter outweighed the former. I always had an affinity for workingmen and they in turn seemed to take kindly to me.
Personally, I knew every man connected with the railroad who lived at Wynne, from the section hand to the division superintendent. I knew every man's duty, his place of residence, and his family. I attended them when sick or maimed, officiated at their marriages, and buried their dead. During the four years of my pastorate at Wynne we were bound together as by hooks of steel. There was never a day they would not have gone through fire and flood to rescue me from danger.
No matter where the Conference sent me as an itinerate preacher, the railroad men kept up with my whereabouts and passed the word to others that I was deserving of their confidence and any favors shown me would be appreciated by them. From that day until now they have been of great service to me. Whenever I met one of them, which would occasionally happen, our greeting was more of an embrace than a handshake.
Of course, all of them belonged to the union, but we had no strikes in those days. The officials and employees were on the best of terms and treated each other as equals. The most of the troubles that arose came from the failure of the men to obey the rules, and these troubles I often helped to adjust. And, while I regret to say this, yet truth compels me to admit it: Many of the men drank intoxicating liquors, sometimes to excess. In almost every instance whiskey was at the bottom of the trouble. I was opposed to the sale and use of intoxicants and did all in my power to keep the men from drinking, and was faithful in my warnings to them. Whenever trouble resulted in their suspension from duty I was always glad to help them get reinstated. I made promises for them and in their behalf. Their troubles and sorrows were mine also. Protestant or Catholic, it made no difference with me, for all of them needed a friend and spiritual adviser who could understand and sympathize with them. God is my witness that I tried to be a faithful and watchful pastor to all of them. When I left Wynne, having served as long as the law of my church would permit, no one regretted my departure more than the railroad men. I shall never forget the hour I told a locomotive engineer good-bye. He threw his arms around me, drew me close to his breast, and with tears streaming down his face he said: "Brother Farris, no railroad man ever left the yard here without carrying with him a lighter heart, because we all knew if anything should happen to our homes or families while absent you would be there to give assistance,-advise and protect;" and he was a member of the Catholic Church. No greater compliment was ever given me than that. Could I ever prove false or unworthy of such confidence as these men reposed in me? No, I could not.
The years came and went, and finally, after many years, there came a testing time to me when I was tried as by fire, tried as few ministers have ever been tried, to see whether or not I would remain true to principles and friends dearer to me than life itself. Looking back at those troublous days, and taking everything into consideration, I can truthfully say there was never a moment I felt the temptation to falter.
The purpose of this narrative is to tell the public the events which took place and in which I played a part, as a man of God, in Harrison, Arkansas, during the twelve months of my pastorate there. Nothing shall be written, colored by either passion or prejudice; but a plain story, told in such a manner that no one who reads can entertain a reasonable doubt of the truthfulness of the contents of this book. I do not need to exaggerate nor shall I suppress anything. I shall not write anything contrary to the truth, but seek to give my own connection with the events found in this narrative. Throughout the whole trying ordeal I kept myself free from condoning or defending acts of injustice, no matter by whom committed. To assault one man is as brutal and unjustifiable as when the injury is done to another, and when one of the merchants of Harrison was severely beaten in a neighboring town by his enemies, who were strikers, I condemned it as an outrage. If it were inexcusable to assault a man for being in sympathy with the mob, it was also inexcusable to assault another man for being in sympathy with the strikers. All acts of violence were in opposition to law and came under the same condemnation. My readers must become the judges of the fair and impartial spirit of what is written.


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