Saturday, June 20, 2020

Newsreels once contended with newspapers for audiences


Ship launching newsreel at the Mobile's Crown Theater
Doy Leale McCall Rare Book and Manuscript Library

Newsreels, largely forgotten today, were a major news medium for most of the 20th century providing audiences a “you are there” quality to news events. Newsreels, like radio and TV, at first complemented the news coverage of the Mobile Register and other printed media. Later they competed for audiences.

Silent versions of newsreels had been around since the early 1900s and were enormously popular. When newsreels added sound in the late 1920s, they became wildly more attractive to audiences. At the high point of newsreels’ popularity, more than 7 out of every 10 Americans watched them every week.

Theaters most often showed newsreels as part of their entertainment programs before the feature film.

There also were theaters dedicated to showing only newsreels. They projected a one-hour reel with a mix of news, entertainment, and travel features in a continuous loop all day long.

Newsreels took their style and structure from newspapers and served as an illustrated supplement to the stories audiences were familiar with from the dailies. Audiences watched newsreels to see for themselves the events they had read about in the newspaper. Many years later, when television supplanted newsreels, this audience relationship reversed. TV viewers bought newspapers to read more details about the stories they had seen broadcast on the small screen.

Just as newspaper owners invested in the new medium of radio, they also backed the newsreel business. William Randolph Hearst, for example, owned Hearst Metrotone, one of the big five newsreel companies, the other four being: Fox Movietone, Paramount, Universal, and Warner-Pathe, owned by RKO after 1931.

Whether any newspaper owners in Mobile produced newsreels or operated newsreel theaters or other theaters isn’t known. But there are at least two existing newsreels about Mobile and there may have been others. One of the two existing newsreels is a Pathe film from the silent era and shows President Woodrow Wilson’s visit to Mobile in 1913. The other, produced during World War II by the Office of War Information Bureau of Motion Pictures, shows the effect on the Port City of the influx of tens of thousands of war workers.

Evidence that there were other local newsreels comes from a 1920 photo by Mobile photographer Erik Overbey, whose photos also appeared in the Register. His photo of the Crown Theater on Dauphin Street shows a hand-lettered display board announcing “TODAY. LAUNCHING THE CITY OF MOBILE AT CHICASAW,” apparently a newsreel about the launching of a cargo ship at the Chickasaw shipyard north of Mobile.

Newsreels lost audience popularity in the long transition to television. But even early TV programs sometime used newsreels. Newsreels managed to hold out in some theaters until the early 1970s when the medium disappeared.

Sources

Selina Williams, “Newsreels, 100 Years Legacies: The Lasting Impact of World War I,” the Wall Street Journal. Web: https://graphics.wsj.com/100-legacies-from-world-war-1/newsreels; Accessed on August 11, 2019; “Collecting news,” The Newsroom blog, British Library, December 16, 2018. Web: https://blogs.bl.uk/thenewsroom/2018/12/index.html?_ga=2.122523720.239422061.1565540831-2095941634.1565540831; Accessed on August 11, 2019; Luke McKernan, “ Newsreels and history,” XI Jornadas de Investigação do CIAC Faro, February 9, 2017. Web: https://lukemckernan.com/2017/02/12/newsreels-and-history/; Accessed on August 11, 2019; Joseph E.J. Clark, “Canned History: American Newsreels and the Commodification of Reality, 1927-1945,” (Dissertation, Brown University: 2011). Web: https://repository.library.brown.edu/studio/item/bdr:11195/; Accessed on August 11, 2019; Scott L. Althaus, “The Forgotten Role of the Global Newsreel Industry in the Long Transition from Text to Television,” International Journal of Press/Politics 15(2) 193-218. Web: https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1940161209358761; Accessed on August 11, 2019.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

1911 Mobile newsboy strike part of a wave of labor unrest around the world


In August 1911, one group of newsboys in Mobile engaged in a brief two-day strike. Viewed in isolation, the strike was an event of little significance except to those involved. Seen in perspective, the incident was part of a wave of labor unrest around the world. It also may have been connected to newspaper competition and political changes in the Port City.

In England, in what became known as the Great Unrest, hundreds of strikes erupted in 1911 involving nearly a million workers. Among other labor actions, between 1900 and 1914, thousands of newsboys in the United States and Canada engaged in strikes against newspapers and news agencies.

The socialist Industrial Workers of the World, often just called the “Wobblies,” stirred up some of the strikes against newspapers and other industries. The Wobblies sought to overthrow the free market and to create a “workers’ commonwealth.” The union was active along the docks of the Gulf Coast and in the Piney Woods timber industry.

We don’t have any evidence that the Wobblies or other labor organizers were behind the newsboy strike in Mobile. But the youths certainly would have been aware of what fellow newsboys and adults had been up to around the country and the world.

In nearby New Orleans, 250 newsboys marched to Lafayette Square in July 1911 in protest of two papers raising their price to carriers. The New Orleans Daily States and the New Orleans Item raised the wholesale price of their 2-cent papers from 1 cent to 1 ½ cents.

The strikers littered the streets with shredded newspapers, beat up scabs, and marched in a night parade. The strike ended when the papers raised their retail price to 3 cents and restored the newsboys half-price discount.

In Mobile, newsboys also erupted when faced with a cut in their wholesale discount. The Mobile Daily Item told its carriers in August 1911 that it was reducing the subscription price of the newspaper from 15 cents to 10 cents a week. For each subscription, 6 cents would go to the paper and 4 cents to the carrier. The Item published weekday afternoons and Sunday mornings.

The Item may have cut its subscription price in its circulation war with the morning Mobile Register. The Item’s 12,000 readers was just under the Register’s 14,000.

The youths who delivered the Item on subscription routes objected to the new pricing. On the night of Sunday, August 20, one of youths visited the home where many of the carriers lived. He called on them to meet at the Central Trade Council Hall on Monday morning, August 21, to form a union and strike against the Item.

At the meeting, the carriers formed Newsboys Union No. 1. But the President Judge of the Central Trades Council ruled that it couldn’t recognize the group as a labor union because it had been put together solely to call a strike.

Nevertheless, a committee of youths from the new union met several times that morning with the Item’s management. The carriers demanded 6 cents for their share of the new price. The carriers also demanded that the paper pay them 6 cents for delivering deadheads, or free copies. Deadheads went to political friends and relatives of the editor, publisher, or other employees of the newspaper. The managers responded that the paper couldn’t make a profit supplying subscriptions at the price the newsboys demanded. The managers said they were open to arbitration of the dispute.

On the afternoon of August 21, apparently encouraged by outsiders, more than 150 carriers struck the Item. To get public support for their strike, the newsboys handed out flyers explaining their demands and paraded in the streets.

To deliver papers to subscribers, the Item turned to loading them in cars and having the drivers drop the papers off. The striking newsboys put out pickets who attacked anyone attempting to deliver the paper and destroyed any copies they could. The newspaper got police officers to ride with its drivers and immediately sought an injunction against the newsboys. Police also arrested several of the Item’s striking carriers.

It also began to appear that the Item’s competitor, the morning Mobile Register, had a hand in the newsboys’ strike. Police arrested several Register employees for taking copies of the Item from carriers and tossing them in the trash. Among those arrested from the Register: J. O. Stuardi, the former Item circulation manager who had switched to the Register circulation department, Norman Stuardi, Leslie Stevens, E. C. D’Olive, and John Allman.

The Item’s management and members of the newsboys union met twice the afternoon of August 23. The newspaper’s advertisers may have begun asking about credits for their ads in papers that weren’t being delivered, adding to the pressure to settle the dispute.

The managers and newsboys agreed to ask the newly created three Mobile City Commissioners to arbitrate the dispute. The two sides also agreed that the route carriers would get 5 or 6 cents a week for each paper delivered regardless of what the arbiters decided and the carriers agreed to return to work.

This gave the labor dispute a political cast. The city had just adopted the commission form of government, considered to be a progressive reform for good government that would break the power of ward bosses.

Progressive reformers in Alabama and across the nation had been working to sweep away old aldermanic forms of city government. Reformers associated mayors and councils with political rings, ward healers, spoils, cronyism, and corruption. Progressives in Mobile sought to replace the mayor and board of aldermen with what they considered a more business-like, three-member commission. The three members would rotate terms as mayor and divide up duties of city administration.

Current elected city officials, staff, and those who benefited from the existing system opposed the change. The Mobile Item early on supported a commission government. But when the campaign for the commission began in earnest, the Item switched sides and supported the aldermanic forces.

That put the Item at odds with the Register, which supported the measure. The Register’s progressive Democrat owner, Frederick I. Thompson, worked with the city’s Progressive Association, a coalition of businessmen and professionals, to lead the fight for the commission.

The two sides fought bitterly. Old political alliances and friendships broke. The two newspapers’ advertisers undoubtedly pressured the publishers to support their sides of the issue.

On June 5, 1911, Mobilians turned out in large numbers to approve the commission government, 2,227 to 1,401. It was the largest turnout of voters in some time.

The Birmingham News gave much of the credit for the success of plan to the Register. “Too much cannot be said in praise of The Mobile Register for the splendid fight it made in behalf of Commission Government,” the News opined. “The victory of the good government forces would have been impossible but for the clean, intelligent and fearless campaign of this journal.”

We don’t know the result of the commission’s arbitration in the newsboy strike. As had been the case in other newsboy strikes around the country, there may have been no formal announcement. The paper may have just spread the word that the two sides had agreed and the strike was over.

The Item’s opposition to adopting the commission government would seem to have made it unlikely the new commissioners would support the newspaper’s position. Plus the newsboys already seem to already have won the dispute with the Item agreeing to increase carriers’ share to 5 or 6 cents of each subscription.

Newsboys Union No. 1 doesn’t appear to have outlived the strike. The carriers had managed to flex their muscle and to show managers at the Item, and the competing Register as well, that they could seriously disrupt newspaper distribution if their interests were harmed. The newsboys proved, to the delight of some and the surprise of many, that they could organize and win a strike.

Sources
Vincent DiGirolamo, Crying the News, A History of America’s Newsboys. (Oxford University Press, 2019), 414, 418

N.W. Ayer & Son's American Newspaper Annual and Directory, 1914, 33

“News of Mobile and its vicinity,” New Orleans Times-Democrat August 22, 1911 3:5; “Newsboys Strike In Mobile,” Atmore Record August 24, 1911 1:3

“News of Mobile and its vicinity,” New Orleans Times-Democrat August 23, 1911 6:4

“News of Mobile and its vicinity,” New Orleans Times-Democrat August 24, 1911 11:4; “Newsboys Strike In Mobile,” Atmore Record August 24, 1911 1:3; “Strike of Newsboys Will Be Arbitrated,” Montgomery Advertiser August 24, 1911 3:4

David E. Alsobrook, “Patrick J. Lyons,” Encyclopedia of Alabama. Online: http://www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-2163. Accessed March 9, 2020

“Commission Government Wins in Mobile,” Fairhope Courier June 9, 1911 4:2; “Mobile Throws Off Shackles,” Birmingham News June 6, 1911 4:1

Saturday, February 22, 2020

The event-filled and tragic life of Mobile newsie Charles Archie Johnson


This fading image, graciously provided by Heritage Auctions, HA.com, gives us an early glimpse of a well-known Mobile newsie, Charles Archie Johnson.

Johnson became a pawn in the struggle between Democrats and Republicans for control of Port City politics during Reconstruction. Mobile newspapers gave Johnson a lot of attention in their pages but so did other papers around the country. Newspapers on the Gulf Coast continued to follow Johnson’s misfortunes until he died in 1903.

Johnson poses in a photographer’s studio on this carte de visite, a photographic calling card, just 2.3 inches by 4 inches. I found the photo online in 2020. Unfortunately, it had been sold in 2017. It is heavily stained and has been folded in half, resulting in the deep horizontal crease. The photographer chemically treated the finish, giving the tone an altered color. I corrected the tone to improve the clarity of the image.

Johnson’s past before coming to Mobile is just as unclear as the image. One of two different stories may be true, or it also is possible to look at the two stories as parts of the same tale.

According to a story in the New Orleans Picayune, Johnson had been the slave of a Confederate army captain who was wounded during the battle of Murfreesboro. This is taken to mean the Battle of Stones River from December 31, 1862, to January 2, 1863, in Middle Tennessee, and not the First Battle of Murfreesboro, a cavalry battle in July 1862.

This story, which may have been embellished, holds that while Johnson was carrying his wounded master from the firing line, he too was wounded in the right leg. Doctors had to amputate the limb above the knee.(1)

In this version of events, we don’t know if Union or Rebel doctors amputated Johnson’s leg or what happened to him before he showed up in Mobile after the war. Although Stones River was an inconclusive battle, the Confederates withdrew, making it likely that Union troops picked up Johnson from the battlefield and took him to their hospital for care.

As Heritage Auctions points out, the Civil War Soldiers and Sailors System database lists a Charles Archie Johnson, apparently a liberated slave, as a veteran of Company D, 92nd Infantry Regiment, U.S. Colored Infantry. He appears to have mustered into service as a private on October 24, 1863, with the 22nd Infantry Regiment, Corps d’Afrique, organized at New Orleans on September 30, 1863.

The regiment saw duty at New Orleans, Brashear City, New Iberia, and in the District of La Fourche until January 1864. The Army ordered the troops to duty at Port Hudson on January 4 and then to Brashear City in April. The Army took advantage of the move to reorganize the unit as the 92nd Infantry. The Army discharged this Johnson after the end of the war on December 31, 1865.

It’s possible that the Johnson wounded at Murfreesboro somehow found his way to New Orleans and later enlisted with the Corps d’Afrique. Or these may be two entirely different men.

At any rate, the Johnson who sold newspapers in Mobile was suited only to menial labor, regardless of having only one leg. Most observers at the time seem to agree that Johnson was a “mental, intellectual and physical cripple . . . who can scarce distinguish between right and wrong, whose mind borders on idiocy. . . .”

That description may have somewhat exaggerated Johnson’s mental limitations as those who used him sought to present the newsboy as deserving sympathy. All newsboys also tried to look sorrowful in order to elicit larger tips from their patrons.(2)

The Johnson who sold papers in Mobile would seem, then, to have lacked the capability to shoulder arms and wasn’t the man who enlisted in New Orleans. But he still could have served as a teamster or other laborer with the Army toward the end of the war.

At some point, the news peddler Johnson, who was about 25 in 1865, found his way to Mobile. Union black troops were still stationed in Mobile and perhaps Johnson came to join friends or family. He earned a living by hawking newspapers along Royal Street for the Mobile Daily Tribune and blacking shoes. Johnson sold his papers wearing the outlandish costume he dressed in for the photo. It is an exaggerated military uniform with large epaulettes. It may have been a cast off band uniform.

Written on the back of the photo is, “Hon Archie Johnson Gentleman of Color / G. Horton's Friend / 1867 Mobile Ala.” The phrase, “G. Horton’s Friend,” was meant to be tongue in cheek.

In 1867, U.S. Major General John Pope had appointed Gustavus Horton mayor of Mobile. Before the war, Horton had been a successful and prominent businessman. During the war, Horton had remained a unionist and suffered persecution, even though two sons and a son-in-law served in the Confederacy. After the war, he became a Republican.

As mayor, Horton fired ineffective white policemen and hired black officers in their place. He also replaced some white laborers with blacks. Both moves angered white Democrats.

The Tribune may have hired Johnson just to torment Horton. As Johnson went about the streets selling the Mobile Tribune, he wore placards with the paper’s headlines, which were often critical of Horton and fellow Republican Frederick G. Bromberg, who was the city treasurer in 1867. On one occasion Johnson cried, “Here’s yer Mobile Tribune, wid all about Mayor Horton and his Bromberg rats.”

Written on the hat that Johnson is wearing in the photo is “Bromberg.” Another word, which may be “Horton,” is written below Bromberg.(3)

Among his duties, Horton presided over the Mayor’s Court to try cases for minor offenses. Police officers arrested Johnson at least three times during the summer 1867 for disorderly conduct, probably related to his frequent drunkenness. The court could fine offenders, order them to post a bond to insure good behavior, or order them to leave the city. Horton ordered Johnson to leave.

When Johnson didn’t leave the city, Horton had an officer put him on a steamer to New Orleans. But Mobile’s Democrats chartered a steamer and chased the boat carrying Johnson. Overtaking the other boat, the Democrats took Johnson aboard their steamer and back to Mobile. The steamer arrived with a band playing Dixie and banners flying. The Democrat partisans put Johnson in a carriage and paraded past large, cheering crowds.

Johnson’s days as a pawn in this political chess game weren’t over. Mayor Horton had an officer put Johnson on a train and escort him to Montgomery. Again the peg-legged veteran returned, no doubt aided by the Democrats. Policemen arrested Johnson again and Horton ordered him to post a $500 bond to keep the peace.

In a few weeks, Johnson was back in front of the mayor charged with disorderly conduct, drunkenness, and resisting arrest. Horton ordered the newsboy to pay a $50 fine or serve 30 days in jail, and pay a peace bond of $300.

Johnson undoubtedly was getting help and encouragement in his battles with the mayor from Democrats, particularly the owners of the Tribune, the Mobile Times, and the Mobile Register. Certainly, there is no way that Johnson made enough money selling papers and shining shoes to pay all his fines and return trips from banishment.

The editor of the Nationalist, a Republican paper, charged the Democrats with being behind Johnson’s antics. The newspaper said Johnson got drunk and allowed “himself to be tricked out by the Tribune buffoons and their allies in such a manner as to necessarily create an excitement upon the street, and endanger the public peace.”(4)

Horton’s opponents now snared mayor in the federal government’s own laws. They turned U.S. law aimed at securing black civil rights against the white unionist mayor. Johnson’s bosses and the other Democrat editors charged that Horton’s arrests and sentences of the street vendor were politically motivated and deprived Johnson of his civil rights. They charged Horton in federal court with violating the U.S. civil rights act.

U.S. District Judge Richard Busteed, although a fellow Republican, was an opponent of Horton. In Horton’s trial, Busteed excluded evidence that other mayors had commonly expelled troublemakers, often whites, from the city. A jury found Horton guilty. Busteed had the mayor briefly jailed before slapping him with a $250 fine.

With their point made, the Tribune and other Democrat newspaper editors apparently ceased using Johnson to torment the mayor. In 1868, voters elected Horton as probate judge of Mobile County, which took him out of Reconstruction political controversies. Archie Johnson, as he was usually called, continued to hawk the Tribune along Royal Street and to get into trouble with the law for many years.

On one occasion in January 1868, however, Johnson needed the help of the police. Johnson presented himself at Mobile’s guardhouse in such an excited state that it was sometime before police could calm him down enough to understand the problem.

Johnson’s Democrat patrons had favored him with numerous gifts, including a gold stud. He had a sentimental attachment to the gift and carried it with him each time he was expelled from Mobile. On one deportation to Montgomery, Johnson was broke but refused to sell the stud for the money he needed.

Johnson accused a fellow newsboy named Palmer of stealing the stud. Police arrested Palmer and put him under a $100 bond to appear in Mayor’s Court.(5)

But it was usually Johnson who was in trouble. In November 1874, a policeman again hauled the newspaper vendor into the Mayor’s Court, with Alderman Underhill presiding in the absence of the mayor. The officer explained that Johnson was drunk and disorderly all the time and that he made too little money to live on. Underhill must have taken pity on Johnson because he didn’t assess a fine.

In January 1875, Johnson was back in court, this time before Mayor Alphonse Hurtel. The Tribune reported that Johnson “got into a weaving way and became very noisy and abusive near the corner of St. Michael and Joachim” streets. The mayor fined Johnson $10 “and he will languish in durance vile unless some friend comes to his rescue,” meaning the newsie was stuck behind bars until someone paid his fine.

The Mayor’s Court must have sent Johnson again from Mobile at some point because in May 1876, he was in Pensacola and in trouble. The Pensacola Gazette reported that a photographer caught Johnson breaking into his studio one night. Deputies confined Johnson to the county jail.

The news stories don’t say so, but it seems likely that someone else directed Johnson in his petty criminal ways. Given Johnson’s limited abilities, he would have needed a Fagin, a fence, to tell him what to steal and to exchange the goods for shelter or cash. It also possible that Johnson simply didn’t know legal from illegal and right from wrong. Regardless of the reasons for his activities, Johnson paid the consequences.(6)

The Pensacola court found Johnson guilty of burglary and the judge sentenced him to 10 years in the state penitentiary. Johnson applied to the pardoning board in 1882 for a reduction of his sentence. Whether that happened isn’t clear, but whenever Johnson was released the veteran newsie returned to the Port City. By 1880, regular passenger rail service linked Pensacola and Mobile, making it easier and cheaper for Johnson to travel.(7)

The sound of Johnson crying the news could again be heard on Mobile’s streets. A correspondent for the New Orleans Times-Democrat in August 1897 recalled for his Crescent City audience the colorful cries of Mobile street vendors. These included the charcoal man or woman, ice man, butcher boy, fruit wagon driver, beer bottle collector, and, of course, one particular newspaper seller.

“In the past who does not remember ‘Charles Archie Johnson’ the one-legged negro, with a voice that equaled that of a bugle, and whose call, ‘Times-Democrat,’ could be distinctly heard for eleven blocks?” Mobile newsboys such as Johnson sold out-of-town newspapers such as the Times-Democrat as well as Mobile newspapers. “Archie is still with the gang, but his loud calls have grown to respectable limits, old age and a fast life having had their effect, but his voice is yet good for six squares.” The Mobile Register said Johnson had “stentorian lungs.”(8)

A year later, in 1898, an unknown photographer captured Johnson chatting with a passerby in Mobile. The photo, in the collection of the Alabama Department of Archives and History, had only identified the man as a “newspaper carrier.” (The department has since updated the identification.) News stories make it clear that Johnson was a well-known character in Mobile, which explains the photographer’s interest. Besides, how many one-legged, African American newsies could there have been on Royal Street in Mobile at that time?

In the photo, Johnson is resting the stump of his right leg on the steps of the U.S. Customs House at the southwest corner of Royal and St. Francis streets. He appears to be carrying on a lively conversation with the well-dressed older man wearing the derby. Judging from a number of photos of the Customs House, this area was a popular place for men to gather and talk. It would have been a good place to sell newspapers.

The state archives doesn’t identify which newspaper he is selling. It’s likely he’s hawking the Mobile Register, but it could have been the Mobile Daily Item or another newspaper such as the New Orleans Times-Democrat, which was shipped to news agents in Mobile.

In March 1899, Johnson was back in Pensacola and back in trouble with the law. He and a comrade, Charles Wright, were charged with petit larceny and held for trial. The jury found Johnson guilty, but acquitted Wright. The judge sentenced the hapless newsboy to 30 days in the county jail at hard labor.(9)

In January 1903, Pensacola’s opera house called the police to deal with rowdies, apparently newsboys, at the ticket box. When the police arrived, they caught Johnson crawling over the shoulders of those ahead of him trying to reach the box. The next morning, the police court judge sentenced Johnson to work 60 days on the city’s street gang.(10)

Not long after completing his sentence in Pensacola, Johnson was back on the streets of Mobile hawking papers. About April 9, 1903, Johnson fell seriously ill and was taken to the city hospital. He died 20 days later, never having recovered.(11) 

(1) “Mobile Negroe’s Adventure,” Pensacola News, April 29, 1903 3:4
(2) Harriet E. Amos Doss, “Trials of a Unionist: Gustavus Horton, Military Mayor of Mobile during Reconstruction,” 123-144, in Michael Thomason, editor, Down the Years: Articles on Mobile’s History. (Mobile: Gulf Coast Historical Review, 2001), 136; Civil War Soldiers and Sailors System, National Park Service. Online: https://www.nps.gov/civilwar/search-soldiers.htm. Accessed February 8, 2020.
(3) Walter L. Fleming, Civil War and Reconstruction in Alabama. (The Macmillan Company, 1905), 482. Online: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/41680/41680-h/41680-h.htm#f_1291. Accessed February 8, 2020.
(4) Harriet E. Amos Doss, “Trials of a Unionist: Gustavus Horton, Military Mayor of Mobile during Reconstruction,” 123-144, in Michael Thomason, editor, Down the Years: Articles on Mobile’s History. (Mobile: Gulf Coast Historical Review, 2001), 133-134
(5) “Charles Archie Johnson Robbed,” Mobile Daily Times, January 6, 1868 5:1. The Times gives the name of the thief as “Palmes,” but this appears to be a typographical error.
(6) Mobile Daily Tribune, November 6, 1874, 3; Mobile Daily Tribune, January 15, 1875, 3; Mobile Daily Tribune, May 13, 1876, 2
(7) Pensacola Commercial, April 1, 1882, 3:5
(8) “Record of happenings in the Gulf City yesterday,” New Orleans Times-Democrat, August 12, 1897, 9:3; “The Surrender at Montgomery,” Pickens County Herald and West Alabamian, December 14, 1870 2:6
(9) “The Criminal Court,” Pensacola News March 13, 1899 2:5; “The Criminal Court,” Pensacola News March 18, 1899 5:2
(10) “Rowdy opera house patrons,” Pensacola News January 29, 1903 1:6
(11) New Orleans Times-Democrat April 9, 1903 9:4; “Mobile Negroe’s Adventure,” Pensacola News, April 29, 1903 3:4

Friday, January 17, 2020

Socialists targeted Mobile newsies in their war on the free market

Seven-year-old Phares D. Beville sells the Mobile Item in Bienville Square
in 1914. Photo by Lewis W. Hine.


In the early 1900s, America’s socialists made the colorful newsboys on the streets of Mobile another exhibit in their campaign against youths working in paying jobs.

The activists especially disapproved of newsies. They said the youths were corrupted by profanity, gambling, fast women, and even “the dubious frankfurter,” which the authors of the 1914 book Children in Bondage claimed was the boys’ chief nourishment. And horror of horrors, “Frequently in one night a boy drinks from five to six cups of coffee.”

A group of wealthy and influential Northern leftist progressives founded the National Child Labor Committee on April 15, 1904, to campaign against children working such jobs. New York sociology teacher and highly talented photographer Lewis Wickes Hine quit his job at the Ethical Culture School in 1908 to become the committee’s official photographer. Hine traveled the country photographing children and adults at work.

Hine brought his camera to Alabama in 1910, 1911, 1913, and
1914. Alabama was an odd choice for Hine to spend so much time in. In 1903, the Yellowhammer State had made it illegal for children under 12 to work in factories. And Pennsylvania had more kids working in non-farm jobs than all the states of the former Confederacy combined.

In Alabama, Hine photographed youths servicing machines in cotton mills and laboring for coal mines. On the Gulf Coast, he took photos of boys working on oyster boats and girls shucking oysters for a canning company. In the cities, he shot images of boys delivering telegraphs and dry goods and selling newspapers on street corners.

Hine arrived in the Port City in 1914. Among other subjects, he photographed several newsboys, all of whom appeared to be selling the afternoon Mobile Item. This choice of newspaper street sellers likely wasn’t by chance. The competing morning Mobile Register was owned by Frederick I. Thompson, a leftist progressive Democrat. Although the Register also used newsboys, they don’t appear in Hine’s photos.

It seems highly possible that Thompson invited Hine to Mobile and helped him find subjects for his photo shoots. Hine needed some local contacts to acquaint him with places that employed the children he photographed. Not all of the locations were obvious or easy to find.

According to the National Archives, Hine recorded information about every photograph. He created a ruse to interview the children he photographed and then scribbled notes on paper hidden inside his pocket. He believed that he had to be “double-sure that my photo data was 100% pure—no retouching or fakery of any kind.” While Hine may not have faked his info, he wasn’t always accurate. Or his assumptions about his subjects didn’t accurately reflect the facts.

Of Hine’s four photos of Mobile newsies, he recorded the name of just one of his subjects, and then only a first name, “Ferris.” Thanks to the research of historian Joe Manning, who has been identifying the children in Hine’s photos and interviewing descendants, we know that “Ferris” is actually Phares Demoville Beville. Friends and family just called him “P. D.,” or Pee Dee.

Hine’s photo shows a 7-year-old Phares selling the Mobile Item on the sidewalks of Bienville Square on October 22, 1914. His caption read, “Tiny newsie who did not know enough to make change for investigator. There are still too many of these little ones in the larger cities.”

Hine photographed Phares and his other subjects sympathetically. He believed his photos would more effectively serve his cause if the children looked likable and deserving of attention.

Peter D. Beville, top left, father of Phares,
and a story about his International Motor Truck
company in Mobile.
Phares, and others like him, weren’t penniless orphans sentenced to living on the streets in dirty shirttails. At the time Hine took the photo, the Beville family was quite well off. In 1912, Phares’ parents moved from Florida to Mobile, where his father Peter founded the P. D. Beville Supply Co., an International Motor Truck distributor, in 1915. The Bienville Square corner where Hine photographed the young Phares was just two blocks north from his father’s business.

Peter Beville’s business merged with a competitor in 1918 and in 1922 Peter built a four-story building to house his dealership on the northwest corner of Government and Conception streets at a cost of $100,000, more than $1.5 million in today’s dollars.

The Beville family lived at a fashionable address, 902 Government Street just west of Broad Street. By the time Phares was a teen, his family had moved about a mile away to the just as fashionable western edge of the city to a large two-story home at 110 South Georgia Avenue.

The Bevilles paid pricey tuitions for Phares and his older brother Newell to attend the University Military School in Mobile and later to enroll in Washington & Lee University in Lexington, Virginia. So the Beville family wasn’t poor and dependent on the few pennies Phares brought in selling newspapers on downtown streets. And, even though at 7 years old Phares “did not know enough to make change” for Hine, the youngster’s education clearly wasn’t neglected.

Many of Hine’s other photographic subjects had similar stories. One of those other subjects was a 9 year old cash girl in Gayfer’s Department Store. Of her, Hine wrote, “At first glance the home conditions with a one-armed father and several children in the family would indicate that her small wages were needed, but when we found that the father is able to do certain kinds of work, and that they have relatives who are well-to-do, there was no doubt that the family could get along without her working. In almost all the cases investigated, the need for the child's earning was very small.”

In fact, that was the point that Hine and others of the NCLC wanted to make: The families didn’t need the income from their children’s work. Dad, and maybe mom, too, earned enough to sustain the family. Hine’s photos meant to evoke a Dickensian nightmare of greedy capitalists employing children for low wages. The photographer, as much as said so. “The object of employing children is not to train them, but to get high profits from their work.”

Selfish employers were the only reason children worked, according to this view. Somehow, the children and their parents had been stripped of their free will by the free market. Hine and his socialist buddies never explained how low wages enticed children to work when families didn’t need their incomes.

Modern audiences are conditioned to reflexively reject any notion of children working. In the 1600s and 1700s, however, adults expected children to work. Until the 1940s and perhaps later, parents moving from rural areas to mill towns and cities believed children needed to help support the family, just as they had on the farm. Many other adults believed that disciplined work helped build an individual’s character.

As the U.S free market made families more prosperous, fewer kids worked. The number of U.S. children working reached a high point around 1910, not long before Hine came to Mobile. In that year, about 20 out of 100 kids worked. Of each of those 20, more than 14 worked on farms. Out of those 14, more than 12 worked on family acres. By 1930, just a little more than 6 out of 100 children worked. Of that statistical 6, nearly 5 worked on the family farm. Prosperity essentially allowed parents to buy their children’s education out their earnings, going without extra income brought in by their kids.

By 1938 when Congress passed the Fair Labor Act, the law against child labor that also gave us the minimum wage, it was mostly a symbol of a state of affairs that already existed.

In the early 1900s, Hine and his socialist allies had been in a hurry to create the impression that work was a form of exploitation from which children must be protected. The only way to do that was to place the government between parents and their children. The parents had to be prevented through law from letting their children work and then forced to send their kids to schools operated by local governments. Then the government would confiscate the parents’ hard-earned income to pay for the schools. Socialists never seem to worry about the government taking the income parents needed to raise their families.

Hine’s photos and the NCLC investigations unwittingly confirmed that newsboys and other working youths were growing up in good homes. In fact, P. D. Beville’s life after Hine photographed him was a testament to the solid family life his father and mother provided and to the fact that Phares’ work as a youth helped build his character.

Phares left Washington & Lee University in late 1929, a few months before he was to graduate and returned home because his 12-year-old brother Lewis had died. The Great Depression had started and Phares stayed in Mobile to help his parents. He sold trucks with his father and served as treasurer for the business. Apparently, Phares had learned how to make change. But they weren’t selling many trucks during the Depression and the family business eventually closed its doors in the early ’30s.

In 1934, the Mobile Press Register, successor to both the Item that Phares had worked for as a child and its Register competitor, hired Phares in the circulation department. After 18 months he entered the accounting department for a year before switching to the advertising department for nearly 17 years.

Not long after starting at the paper, Phares took to the petite and pretty Alice Barclay Lesesne, who worked for the Society Department. They may have known each other through their families’ social connections before working together. The couple announced their engagement in September 1939 and were married  on January 15, 1940. The Press Register provided a honeymoon cruise to Cuba.

Phares served in the Army for two years during World War II and returned to the newspaper at the end of the war. In Mobile, Phares and Alice raised two daughters, volunteered in community groups such as the YMCA and Kiwanis, and were active members in their Presbyterian Church.

From starting as an advertising salesman at the Press Register, Phares worked his way up to local display advertising manager and eventually became national advertising manager. He also was a major stockholder before the paper was sold to the Newhouse family in 1966. Phares worked until retiring in 1977 at age 70.

Phares died in 1991 at the age of 83. His wife Alice died in 2004 at the age of 92.

By the time Phares died, paperboys selling newspapers on the street had nearly disappeared from Mobile. Seven-year-old little merchants were long gone. Mobile had grown far beyond the compact small city it had been in Phares’ paperboy days. After World War II, newspaper carriers delivered papers to suburban subscribers from bicycles.

By the late 1960s, adults often replaced teen paper carriers as schools developed more programs that took up boys’ time. Supermarkets and fast-food restaurants, with better working hours and conditions, competed for the teen work force. The rising affluence of the general population also made it less necessary for many teens to go to work.

But what really brought an end to boys selling papers on the street were coin-operated newspaper vending machines, invented in 1947. Their use began slowly and then surged in the early 1970s. The vending machines were once a common sight in Mobile and every other American city. They lined railroad passenger platforms, airport concourses, stood outside hotels and restaurants, and could be found on almost every busy street corner.

As newspaper prices rose in the late 1990s, the vending machines began to lose favor with the public and publishers alike. The machines were mechanical and couldn't accept dollar bills, only coins. The only choice customers had was to carry a pocket full of quarters or dollar coins. At the same time, Sunday editions had become so bulky that only a limited number of copies could be placed in the boxes.

The few youths who still sold papers on the street could be found at busy intersections during rush hours. When traffic stopped for the red light, the youths rushed into the street to hawk papers to the motorists waiting for the light to change to green. Because of the danger of injury from moving cars, the city eventually cracked down on the practice.

By the time Phares’ wife Alice had died, people were switching to getting their news, entertainment, and other information online. The newspaper vending boxes, like the paperboys they replaced, became less and less necessary. The Press Register began pulling its vending machines from the streets and they have all but disappeared now as well.

Sources 
Edwin Markham et al. Children in Bondage: A Complete and Careful Presentation of the Anxious Problem of Child Labor-its Causes, Its Crimes, and Its Cure. (Hearst's international library Company, 1914) 223; Joe Manning, “Phares Beville, Mobile, Alabama,” Lewis Hine Project, Mornings on Maple Street. Online: https://morningsonmaplestreet.com/2015/01/01/phares-beville. Accessed January 13, 2020; “It’s His Castle of Achievement,” The Harvester World, Volume 14, number 12, December 1923, 5-6. Online: http://content.wisconsinhistory.org/cdm/ref/collection/ihc/id/11531/. Accessed January 15, 2020; Bill Kauffman, “The Child Labor Amendment Debate of the 1920's,” Mises Institute. January 29, 2018. Online: https://mises.org/library/child-labor-amendment-debate-1920s-0. Accessed January 12, 2020; Jeffrey A. Tucker, “The Trouble With Child Labor Laws,” Mises Institute. February 11, 2008. Online: https://mises.org/library/trouble-child-labor-laws. Accessed January 14, 2020; “Teaching With Documents: Photographs of Lewis Hine: Documentation of Child Labor,” National Archives. Online: https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/hine-photos. Accessed January 9, 2020; Mobile Press Register, Inc., et al. v. Joseph F. McGowin, II, Individually and as Executor and Trustee under the last Will and Testament of Everette Leonard McGowin et al. 1 Div. 680. Supreme Court of Alabama. November 17, 1960. Online: https://law.justia.com/cases/alabama/supreme-court/1960/124-so-2d-812-1.html