“Bad women, you must obey the laws or then you must leave the city. This county shall be clean. Married men, you must look after your families and quit carousing; violation of this warning means unhealthy steps for you.
“We stand for the chastity of womanhood, peace and harmony in the home, law enforcement and protection of our homes and our families. Mobile County must be clean. Law violators, this means you.
“We are one hundred per cent Americans, and stand back of law enforcement, regardless.
“We do not fight anyone on account of their religious scruples nor will we tolerate same regardless.
“This warning is for those living in the jurisdiction of the Klan, and we are here twenty-five hundred strong to see that these warnings are carried out. Your next warning will be in person.
“(Signed) The Ku Klux Klan, Mobile City and County.”
If the Mobile Klan really had twenty-five hundred members at the time its charter was revoked, it means that it had paid $25,000 into the coffers of the Ku Klux agents, to say nothing of some $16,000 paid to the Atlanta office for robes. It seems rather unkind of the “Emperor” not to have allowed the Mobile outfit something in return for its heavy outlay. Had it been permitted to continue, it could easily have beaten and tarred and feathered a few helpless women, driven out of town some of the taxi drivers and gamblers, and mutilated a few negro men. As it turned out, the Klansmen suddenly found themselves “all dressed up and no place to go,” and in pretty much the same position as a lot of little boys who have been playing pirate and whose stern parents ordered them to come home.
The second instance of admitted lawlessness on the part of the national organization occurred at Pensacola, Fla., and was a particularly brazen attempt on the part of secret mob government to assume to enforce its own laws. About half past eight o’clock on the night of July 8, 1921, a delegation of the local Ku Klux Klan drove in automobiles up to the cafe of Chris Lochas, three cars loaded with Klansmen, wearing white robes and helmets, while other cars, similarly filled, stopped on the corner of the street. Three members of the Klan walked into the cafe and handed a letter in an envelope to Lochas. The message read:
“You are an undesirable citizen. You violate the Federal prohibition laws, the laws of decency, and you are a running sore on society.
“Several trains are leaving Pensacola daily. Take your choice, but don’t take too much time.