After the establishments within the corporation limits had been closed, there was one house without the village jurisdiction, which remained in operation for a short time. During that period, every new case, so far as is known that came to a local physician, could be traced to that establishment. The district attorney collected evidence, including the testimony of a young man who had been infected, presented it to the Grand Jury, and an indictment followed. A few weeks later, the proprietor committed suicide. There has been scarcely a new case since.
“This town of ours,” says a local physician “is just an average town, no better and no worse than other towns similar in size and environment. The physicians, likewise, are average physicians. What we have accomplished can be accomplished elsewhere, assuming that our results are worth while.”
THE DEAD MAN AT MAMARONECK
It took the killing of one man in the prime of life, a strike sympathizer—a small merchant and property holder, he was, of Mamaroneck—and the wounding of half a dozen strikers by local police and New York detective-agency men, to bring to public notice in New York not only the low pay of the Italian “pick and shovel men” employed in the suburban towns along the sound, but also the general violation of New York state laws on jobs done under contract for the state and various municipalities.
By a coincidence, one of the strikers who left the town hall of Mamaroneck on April 16, after the Arbitration Bureau of the New York State Labor Department had brought about a settlement, made much the same comment as was made by the labor representatives before the Massachusetts Board of Arbitration when the Lawrence strike was on.
“Why didn’t they investigate before we had to strike?” he asked. “Why did we have to lose our brother to get what we have a right to anyway?”
The grievances which had led, two days before this settlement, to a fight on a country road leading front Harrison to Mamaroneck were not new.
Three months ago, wage and other demands were presented by the day laborers on road and street work in this section of the state, who had organized a year ago in the General Laborers’ International Union of America. No response was made by the contractors. Thereupon several thousand men throughout the region—which is the community zone of the New York, New Haven & Hartford Railway, struck to enforce these demands. On April 14 a couple of hundred strikers marched south from Harrison, doubling their numbers as they went by calling out, some say by force, the laborers on the estates they passed.
At the outskirts of Mamaroneck they were stopped by a score of town officials on the ground that they had no permit to parade. In the fight that followed, it was rock and fist—with a final appeal to knives—against club and gun. One detective had a leg broken and was otherwise seriously injured. The injuries of the strikers were bullet wounds. One was killed. Following the conflict, the sheriff was appealed to to swear in the detectives as his deputies, as vengeance for the killing was feared; but he refused on the ground that that type of men had proved, here and elsewhere, altogether too handy with the gun. They had been brought out from a New York detective office by the mayor and police of Mamaroneck, when the rumors of labor trouble in the contract work grew thick. It apparently had not occurred to the town officials to spend an equal amount of energy in finding out what the trouble was about.
Road fights are not frequent occurrences in this region of gardens and express trains and the alarm spread panic. Isolated households imagined most anything at the hands of the “dagoes” who “must be kept down.” There was a call for volunteer deputies, and citizens responded eagerly with their hunting arms.