Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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McCORMICK MESSENGER, McCORMICK, S. C„ THURSDAY, JULY 1, 1937 s. $ IVews Review of Current Events BOARD MEDIATES STRIKE More Deaths As Steel Riots Continue . • • Russians Hop Over Pole to U. S. . . . New Cabinet for France They flew here from Russia: (left to right) Beliakoff, Chekalov, Baidukoff. Miss Perkins Names Three T HE federal government took a hand in the settlement ,of the dispute between John L. Lewis’ Committee for Industrial Organiza tion and the big in dependent steel companies, as the mediation board of three, appointed by Secretary of Labor Frances E. Perkins, sat in Cleveland to hear the cases of both sides. The government s move was prompted as the steel strikes, af fecting plants in several states, threatened new out breaks of violence which might be beyond the powers of local or even state governments to control. As the mediators began their task of effecting a compromise, a dozen persons had been killed in strike riots and scores more injured since the strike against Republic, Bethle hem, Youngstown Sheet & Tube, and Inland started May 26. Eighty- five thousand workers already had lost approximately $10,000,000 in wages. The climactic incident which finally goaded the government into some action other than occasional “off-the-record’* statements was a widely-publicized telegram to Presir dent Roosevelt from Gov. Martin L. Davey of Ohio, fearful lest the bloodshed already occurring in Youngstown and other cities breed into a little civil war. “Apparently every avenue of ap proach available to the state of Ohio has been exhausted for the time be ing,” Governor Davey wired. “It appears that the matter has gone way beyond the powers and oppor tunities of one state to deal with it.” Charles P. Taft II, Cincinnati lawyer, son of the forme? Presi dent and chief justice, and a mem ber of the “brain trust” of Gover nor Landon’s presidential cam paign, was named chairman of the mediation board. Appointed to sit with him were Lloyd K. Garrison, former president of the national la bor relations board, and Edward F. McGrady, assistant secretary of la bor and a former A. F. of L. or ganizer under Samuel Gompers. The mediation board had a job cut out for it. It was to conduct an investigation of the strikes and the grievances of both sides, then make recommendations for a settlement. It has power to act as arbitrator only if both sides request it to do so. The first stumbling block it en countered was the refusal of Tom Girdler, chairman of Republic, to sit in the same room with C. I. O. representatives. Girdler, leader of the companies’ fight to keep the plants open despite the unions, agreed to help in the supplying of facts and information, but would not consider appearance at a concilia tion conference. Johnstown's Martial LaW M ayor daniel j. shields, of Johnstown, Pa., where 15,000 were out of work because of the forced shut - down of Bethlehem Steel’s Cambria plant, was not so successful in his appeal to the Pres ident. Federal action to prevent recurring riots with attendant in juries was refused him. But Gov. George H. Earle declared martial law there and forced Bethlehem to close the plant, despite vigorous protests. Forty thousand coal min ers had announced they would hold a mass meeting to decide upon ac tion in aiding the steel strikers; rioting between strikers, non-strik ers and police seemed imminent, but in the face of the Pennsylvania police they did not come off. —■¥— Death Strikes for Two WO C. I. O. strikers were killed and 25 persons were injured os strikers and police fought for three hours in front of the Republic Steel plant in Youngstown, Ohio, before a truce was arranged between Sher iff Ralph Elser and John Steven son, union organizer. Gov. Davey finally sent state troops. A mob of strikers had attacked a company of police on guard at the plant, forcing the latter to retali ate with tear gas guns. Snipers among the mob tried to pick off Secy. Perkins policemen from vantage points on nearby hills. At neighboring cities of Warren and Canton police were apprehen sive because of threats by the C. I. O. union to prevent a proposed back-to-work movement by loyal Republic Steel workers. Steel Wants Its Mail T HE Republic Steel corporation filed in the federal district court in Washington a petition for a writ of mandamus compelling Postmas ter General Farley to deliver parcel post packages to steel plants in Ohio which local postmasters have re fused to deliver. The petition charged that the local postmaster at Niles, Ohio, was re fusing to deliver packages contain ing food and clothing and addressed to the loyal workers who were be ing housed inside the Republic plant. It charged that this refusal was mnade after the postmaster had reached an “understanding” with two members of the union. “Having waited a week for a re ply to our letter ... to Mr. Farley and having received none, we have no recourse but to such legal action as is available to us under the cir cumstances involved,” said John S. Brooks, Jr., counsel for the corpora tion. He said separate suits will be instituted in Ohio against the local postmasters involved. Harry J. Dixon, local postmaster of Warren, at a hearing by the sen ate post office committee, testified that because of a ruling by W. W. Howes, first assistant postmaster general, he had refused to accept for delivery to the plants thousands of packages containing food, soap, clothing or other articles considered “abnormal.” —+— Short Cut from Soviet / T'HREE Russian airmen success- * fully completed the first non-stop airplane flight from the Soviet Un ion to the United States. Taking the short, but hazardous, route over the North pole, they hopped off from Moscow to arrive in Vancouver, Wash., 63 hours and 17 minutes lat er, after traveling nearly 6,000 miles. They had planned to alight at Oakland, Calif., but poor visi bility drove them down 580 miles from their goal. The three were Pilot Valeri Chek- aloff, Co-Pilot George Phillipovitch Baibukoff and Navigator Alexander Vassilievitch Beliakoff. Their flight, in a single-motored monoplane, took place only a few days after the opening of the Soviet floating weath er station at the pole, to make scien tific observations preparatory to es tablishing trans-polar air routes. —■¥■— French Premier Quits C'ACED with one of those financial 4 crises all too frequent in recent French history. Premier Leon Blum asked the senate for powers which would make him financial dictator of France for about six weeks. He did not believe it possible to bring order into the treasury without so drastic a meas ure. When it was refused he and the 20 members of his cab inet resigned. He had served 117 days Premier Blum of his second year as premier of France— something of a modern record. Pres ident Albert Lebrun designated Ca mille Chautemps, radical socialist and a former premier, to attempt the formation of a new cabinet. A suc cessor to Blum was not immediately in sight. The Popular Front government was one of the bulwarks of leftist tendencies in Europe, as opposed to extreme Fascism, and openly ex pressed its sympathy for the Spanish loyalists. Its passing is extremely important in international affairs. Barrie's Last Curtain C IR JAMES M. BARRIE, novelist ^ and playwright, whose whimsical pen gave to the world many impor tant works of literature, including “Peter Pan,” “The Little Minister,” “Dear Brutus,” and “What Every Woman Knows,” died of bronchial pneumonia in London. He was sev enty-seven years old. T - Gruyere Cheese Is Stored for Ripening. Prepared by National Geographic Society, Washington, D. C.—WNU Service. The New NRA Bill. S ANTA MONICA, CALIF. — They do say the new NRA bill, as drawn by the Gallagher and Shean of the administra tion, Messrs. Corcoran and Cohen, is more sweeping than was the original NRA. Even Gen. Hugh Johnson, once as conversational as Mrs. Astor’s par rot, but lately exiled amid the uncongen ial silences, crawls out from under a log in the woods with lichens in his hair, but the lower jaw still working smoothlyin the socket, to tell how drastic a thing it is. Critics assert this legislation will cov- er busineM like a i rv in S. Cobb wet blanket over a sick pup, and point out that the number of sick pups benefited by being tucked under wet blankets is quite small. However, these fussy persons belong to the opposition and don’t count. Anyhow, they didn’t count much at the last election ex cept in Maine, Vermont and one backward precinct in the Ozark mountains. * • • Friendly French Visitors. T SEEMS we were cruelly wrong in ascribing mercenary motives to those French financiers who’ve been dropping in on us lately. They came only to establish more cordial relations. Of course, there’s a new French bond issue to be floated, but these visits were purely friendly and altruistic. Still and all, I can’t help thinking of Mr. Pincus, who invaded the east side to invite his old neighbor, Mr. Ginsburg, whom he hadn’t seen in years, to be a guest at Mrs. Pincus’ birthday party. He gave full directions for travel ing uptown, then added: “Vere we lif now it’s von of dose swell valk-up flats. So mit your right elbow you gif a little poosh on the thoid button in the door jam downstairs und the lock goes glick- glick und in you come. You go up two floors und den, mit your other elbow, you gif one more little poosh on the foist door to the left und valk in—und vill mommer be surprised!” “Vait,” exclaimed Mr. Ginsburg. “I could get to that Bronnix. I got brains, ain’t it? But ulso I got fin gers und thumbs. Vot is de poosh- mit-elbows stuff?” Murmured Mr. Pincus gently: “Surely you vouldn’t come empty- handed!” • • • Visiting Ancient Ranchos. NDER the guidance of Leo Carillo, that most native of all native sons, I’ve been visiting such of the ancient ranchos as remain practically what they were before the Gringos came to southern Cali fornia. You almost expect to find Ramona weaving in a crumbly pa tio. What’s more, every one of these lovely places is lived on by one of Leo’s cousins. He has more .kin folks than a microbe. They say the early Carillos were pure Spanish, but I insist there must have been a strong strain of Belgian hare in the stock. When it came to progeny, the strain was to the Pacific coast what the Potomac shad has been to the eastern seaboard. It’s more than a family—it’s a species. And a mighty noble breed it is— producing even yet the fragrant es sence of a time that elsewhere has vanished and a day when hospitality still ruled and a naturally kindly people had time to be mannerly and the instinct to be both simple and grandly courteous at once. * e • Privileges of Nazidom. HE German commoner may be shy on the food rations and have some awkward moments unless he conforms to the new Nazi religion. But he enjoys complete freedom of the press—or rather, complete free dom from the press. And lately an other precious privilege has been accorded him. He may fight duels. Heretofore, this inestimable boon was exclusive ly reserved for the highborn. But now he may go forth and carve and be carved until the field of honor looks like somebody had been clean ing fish. This increase in his blessings makes me recall a tale that Charley Russell, the cowboy artist, used to tell: “The boys were fixing to hang a horse thief,” Charley said. “He only weighed about ninety pounds, but for his heft he was the champion horse thief of Montana. The rope was swung from the roof of a barn. Then they balanced a long board out of the loft window, and the con demned was out at the far end of it, ready for the drop, when a stranger busted in. “Everybody thought he craved to pray, but that unknown humanita rian had a better notion than that. In less’n a minute he came inching out on that plank and there wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd as he edged up behind the poor trembling wretch and slipped an anvil in the seat of his pants.” IRVIN S. COBB. <£)—WNU Service. G RUYERES dons festive at tire on August first. It is the Swiss Fourth of July, and colorful ceremonies are the order of the day. At dusk bells begin pealing joy ously as you climb the steep path to the town. As you listen to the melodious tones you consider how much these bells mean in the lives of the peo ple. They toll for funerals and na tional tragedies, clang out the time, summon to church, proudly ring out the glad tidings of victory, political or military, and sing hymns and old airs at the whim of the caril- lonneur. Each call has a distinctive tone. Bells have spoken thus for centuries. But this excited paean means on ly that some great event is about to take place. It inspires in you as you hurry along with the stream of laughing, singing country folk, that same expectant thrill that you felt as a boy when you chased the whining calliope of the circus parade. You crowd through the narrow arch of the ancient tower, a frown ing pile', gray and forbidding, which once barred the way to the in vader. Now it serves the peaceful purpose of framing the old gate and supporting the arms of Gruyeres— a silver crane on a gules shield, surmounted by a crown and held by two semi-naked savages, clubs in hand. What a scene bursts upon you as you pass out of the entranceway and walk into the town’s cobbled court! Throngs of people, dressed in gorgeous Gruyerien costumes, are gathered in a medieval setting. All seem exalted, as are you, by the constant dingdong of the scores of bells,* some loud and clear, others fainter and farther away, perhaps miles down the valley. The scene is like an animated amphitheater, in which the central floor forms the* arena, and the high gabled houses, with lace - capped heads craning from each Gothic window, make the tiers. Flowers and Flags. The backdrop is a veritable rain bow of color. Every sill flaunts a box of brilliant geraniums and nastur tiums, making a kaleidoscope of the pastel houses. White-crossed, blood- red flags of Switzerland stretch be tween the houses and flutter from poles. Above most doors waves the scarlet flag of Gruyeres with a white crane strutting across its center. Nature, not to be outdone by the efforts of man, tints the billowing clouds with the rosy glow of an Alpine sunset. Gradually, you work your way up the arena, past the central foun tain with its washtubs and wooden boards worn smooth with much scrubbing, to the court’s upper end. Like a stage before curtain raising, it is the focal point of all eyes. The peal of the bells ceases, the echoes die away in the mountains. From afar the faint notes of an ap proaching band come through the hush. The music is that stirring song, “Le Ranz des Vaches.” Tradition says King Louis XIV for bade his bands to play it, for the lilting tune made his Swiss mer cenaries so homesick that they would weep and desert the colors when they heard it. Even today, when a Swiss is far from home, the refrain brings tears to his eyes. It produces that same tingling along the spine that a United States Naval academy man feels when “Anchors Aweigh,” is played. Soon you see emerging from be neath the arch a file of tots, gay in Gruyerien costumes. At once a chatter begins in the audience, as mothers and fathers recognize their offspring. A vivacious little bride and handsome young bridegroom lead the parade. So small and neat do they seem that they might have been animated dolls paddling along —a Swiss edition of the Chauve Souris. Each “doll” looks searchingly at the spectators. Every now and then one breaks into a blushing smile and shyly turns away; perhaps a parent had been glimpsed in the throng. The happy children pass on, the eldest and tallest bringing up the rear. Arranged in steps, they re semble a bright-hued escalator mov ing down the path. The men of the village and near-by dairy farms, young blades and gray- bearded sires, follow the children, solemn and in step, mindful, per haps of their many months of mili tary service. They wear traditional dark-blue jackets with short, puffed- out sleeves, white shirts clean as new snow, and tiny skullcaps like those of college freshmen, only made of straw. Every Man Has His Big Pipe. Some of these men come down from the high pastures to attend the fete. Each has his inevitable pipe, huge and cumbersome, with a lid to keep the sparks from flying on a windy day. Behind their lords gaily march the maids and matrons, full-scale models of the infants. Broad- brimmed hats with black velvet streamers set off the good looks of these blond Swiss demoiselles and their brilliant dresses. You turn to your Swiss friend, who has brought you here to his favorite village and knows his na tive land like a book. “I always understood that costumes were nev er worn any more in Switzerland. You see them only in picture post cards—models dressed up in mu seum clothes and posing for the photographers!” “Oh, no,” he says, “the people of Gruyere take pride in their cos tumes and cling to them. Once the garments were practically aban doned, but patriotic societies for preserving costumes delved into rec ords and drawing of early days and these are the treasure-trove. They are Gruyere. “Women don the bright dresses only on fete days, but the men wear theirs daily, even when herding cat tle in the high pastures or making the famous Gruyeres cheese. The joyous parade meanwhile cir cles the fountain and comes back up the street, children toddling, their fathers and brothers still stern and solemn in military formation. It is to the village shrine beneath an overhanging eave that the pro cession winds. Here they gather, young and old, in a circle and sing the chorals and rollicking folk bal lads, as their forefathers had before them. Suddenly, as the last note of the last song dies away, a terrific bang is heard far down the court. All eyes turn, to see a rocket bursting in the air, the sparks falling into the gay crowd. This is the signal the youngsters have been awaiting. Forgetting their lace and silk cos tumes, they rush pell-mell toward the man with the fireworks. Fireworks and Feasting. Soon all are swinging sparklers, Roman candles, and red flares to make a fantastic sight in that an cient courtyard. Arched windows, gilded coats of arms hanging from house fronts, and bright flags stand out brilliantly in the glaring light. If some old man-at-arms came to life and poked his head out of a window, the ghostly scene and popping din may have made him think the count’s army was defend ing the town from a night attack. Is this Switzerland? That staid land of snow-capped mountains and winter sports, where folk never wear costumes or perform the old dances? A whirling cartwheel, on a post above the fountain, is the mad cli max to the fireworks spectacle. While a sea of shouting, happy youngsters watch, a daredevil climbs up gingerly and steals the still red-hot frame as a souvenir. You go into the hostelry for dinner. Entering, you pass the large kitchen with cooks and kitchen maids scurrying around with their array of shining copper pots and pans. The delicious aromas that come from that spotless kitchen are tan talizing appetizers. Your charming hostess, matronly in her colorful costume with a dainty Swiss lace shawl thrown over her shoulders, insists that you come out on her terrace for a moment. You go rather reluctantly, for it is nine o’clock and you are hungry. You are astounded by the view, as you step out onto the gravelly balcony, perched on the brink of a precipice. A ring of jeweled lights, sparkling from the mountains, en circles you. “What are they?” You ask your hostess. “Huge bonfires built by the herds men to celebrate August the First.” “You mean all of those twinkling lights, some down low in the valley and others high on the mountains, are specially built fires? What for?” “Originally the Swiss used bon fires as a sort of medieval wireless to pass news of a victory quickly from one village to the next. Now they celebrate great events in their history, especially battles and al liances, by building the fires on an* niversary days.” Wormwood, Bitter Plant Wormwood is not wood nor is it a worm. It is a bitter plant. 1 STAR | I DUST | ★ jMLovie • Radio $ ★ ★ ★★★By VIRGINIA VALE★★★ P ERHAPS the happiest, but certainly the most bewild ered family in the country just how consists of Michael Kelly, his wife, and five children who live in that part of New York City known as the Bronx. Their twelve-year-old Tommy has been selected to play Tom Sawyer in the Selznick-International film of the Mark Twain classic. Such an opportunity for a young ster would be a dramatic thunder bolt in any family, but for the Kellys it was the first good break in years. Papa Kelly has been on the relief rolls for two years, his jobs as jani tor in a school and life-guard at a beach having dwindled to nothing. Mama Kelly has been to the movies only three times in her 23 years of marriage. Tommy and his father are in Hollywood now, and Michael gets a day’s extra work every now and then while his son is being groomed for stardom. When you see Claudette Colbert in “I Met Him in Paris” you will find it the gayest, most utterly delightful film in many months. Claudette Colbert, Melvyn Douglas, and Robert Young romp through the picture as if they were having the time of their lives. It is the story of a girl who has saved for five years for a trip to Paris,' and when she gets there everything happens as it might have in a fantastic dream. A giddy novelist and a cyn ical playwright fall in love with her. Claudette Colbert For the first time since their mar riage, Joel MeCrea and Frances Dee will play opposite each other in the Paramount picture “Wells Fargo.” Adolph Menjou and the H}rs. known to us as Verree Teasdale will be together in Sam Goldwyn’s “Marco Polo” and the one extra clause they insisted on in their contract was that the dividing wall between two dress ing rooms should be taken down so that they could be together. Everybody is wondering just what is to become of Simone Simon. After a few days’ work in “Danger—Love at Work” she was taken out of the cast and Ann Sothem substituted. The heroine was supposed to be an American girl educated in France, and Simone’s heavy accent was just too much to be convincing. Twenti eth-Century-Fox officials still have faith in her, and say that when they find just the right story for her they will put her to work again. The dinner party that marked the end of the recent Twentieth-Cen- tury-Fox convention put on a show that included about a million dol lars* worth of talent. Irving Berlin sang “Remember,” the Ritz Broth ers made the rafters ring with hi larious shouts by their impromptu foolishment, but Eddie Cantor walked off with the honors of the evening when he arrived in blond curls and baby dress and did an imitation of Shirley Temple. Pretti est girls at the party were Loretta Young, who came with Merle Ober- on’s former fiance, David Niven, and Alice Faye, who came with her constant beau, Tony Martin. Inci dentally, Tony will be back on the radio regularly again soon. —*— Mary Pickford is asking $700,000 for Pickfair, because when she sells the house she will include all the treas ures that she and Douglas Fairbanks collected in their travels around the world. When she marries Buddy Rog ers, she will live in a simple beach house and an old- fashioned ranch house, and wants no reminders of her former life around to haunt her. Whoever is purchaser will possess an estate at which no tables of the world were entertained in the days when Mary and Doug were filmdom’s most celebrated couple. —*— ODDS AND ENDS—Martha Raye gets furious when anyone refers to her as a rubber-faced comedienne, but Joan Craw ford always refers to herself as Elephant Annie, because she never forgets anything .. . All the girls on the RKO lot are grate ful to the costume designer, Eddie Steven son, for making them look so elegant. By way of showing their gratitude Ann Soth- ern, Harriet Hilliard, Gertrude Michael and Ann Shirley got together and knitted, sewed, and bought him a knockout sum mer wardrobe . .. Mary Carlisle has added a pretty penny to her earnings by having Bing Crosby advise her on horse-race bets. © Western Newspaper Union. Mary Pickford People of Egypt The people of Egypt are of the same stock as the ancients who built the pyramids, and—despite the lapse of centuries—still look like them. I l f >