CHAPTER IX

The second term in California had just got well under way when Carl was

offered the position of Executive Secretary in the State Immigration and

Housing Commission of California. I remember so well the night he came

home about midnight and told me. I am afraid the financial end would

have determined us, even if the work itself had small appeal--which,

however, was not the case. The salary offered was $4000. We were getting

$1500 at the University. We were $2000 in debt from our European trip,

and saw no earthly chance of ever paying it out of our University

salary. We figured that we could be square with the world in one year on

a $4000 salary, and then need never be swayed by financial

considerations again. So Carl accepted the new job. It was the wise

thing to do anyway, as matters turned out. It threw him into direct

contact for the first time with the migratory laborer and the I.W.W. It

gave him his first bent in the direction of labor-psychology, which was

to become his intellectual passion, and he was fired with a zeal that

never left him, to see that there should be less unhappiness and

inequality in the world.

The concrete result of Carl's work with the Immigration Commission was

the clean-up of labor camps all over California. From unsanitary,

fly-ridden, dirty makeshifts were developed ordered sanitary housing

accommodations, designed and executed by experts in their fields. Also

he awakened, through countless talks up and down the State, some

understanding of the I.W.W. and his problem; although, judging from the

newspapers nowadays, his work would seem to have been almost forgotten.

As the phrase went, "Carleton Parker put the migratory on the map."

I think of the Wheatland Hop-Fields riot, or the Ford and Suhr case,

which Carl was appointed to investigate for the Federal government, as

the dramatic incident which focused his attention on the need of a

deeper approach to a sound understanding of labor and its problems, and

which, in turn, justified Mr. Bruère in stating in the "New Republic":

"Parker was the first of our Economists, not only to analyse the

psychology of labor and especially of casual labor, but also to make his

analysis the basis for an applied technique of industrial and social

reconstruction." Also, that was the occasion of his concrete

introduction to the I.W.W. He wrote an account of it, later, for the

"Survey," and an article on "The California Casual and His Revolt" for

the "Quarterly Journal of Economics," in November, 1915.

It is all interesting enough, I feel, to warrant going into some detail.

The setting of the riot is best given in the article above referred to,

"The California Casual and His Revolt."

"The story of the Wheatland hop-pickers' riot is as simple as the facts

of it are new and naïve in strike histories. Twenty-eight hundred

pickers were camped on a treeless hill which was part of the ---- ranch,

the largest single employer of agricultural labor in the state. Some

were in tents, some in topless squares of sacking, or with piles of

straw. There was no organization for sanitation, no garbage-disposal.

The temperature during the week of the riot had remained near 105°, and

though the wells were a mile from where the men, women, and children

were picking, and their bags could not be left for fear of theft of the

hops, no water was sent into the fields. A lemonade wagon appeared at

the end of the week, later found to be a concession granted to a cousin

of the ranch owner. Local Wheatland stores were forbidden to send

delivery wagons to the camp grounds. It developed in the state

investigation that the owner of the ranch received half of the net

profits earned by an alleged independent grocery store, which had been

granted the 'grocery concession' and was located in the centre of the

camp ground. . . .

"The pickers began coming to Wheatland on Tuesday, and by Sunday the

irritation over the wage-scale, the absence of water in the fields, plus

the persistent heat and the increasing indignity of the camp, had

resulted in mass meetings, violent talk, and a general strike.

"The ranch owner, a nervous man, was harassed by the rush of work

brought on by the too rapidly ripening hops, and indignant at the jeers

and catcalls which greeted his appearance near the meetings of the

pickers. Confused with a crisis outside his slender social philosophy,

he acted true to his tradition, and perhaps his type, and called on a

sheriff's posse. What industrial relationship had existed was too

insecure to stand such a procedure. It disappeared entirely, leaving in

control the instincts and vagaries of a mob on the one hand, and great

apprehension and inexperience on the other.

"As if a stage had been set, the posse arrived in automobiles at the

instant when the officially 'wanted' strike-leader was addressing a mass

meeting of excited men, women, and children. After a short and typical

period of skirmishing and the minor and major events of arresting a

person under such circumstances, a member of the posse standing outside

fired a double-barreled shot-gun over the heads of the crowd, 'to sober

them,' as he explained it. Four men were killed--two of the posse and

two strikers; the posse fled in their automobiles to the county seat,

and all that night the roads out of Wheatland were filled with pickers

leaving the camp. Eight months later, two hop-pickers, proved to be the

leaders of the strike and its agitation, were convicted of murder in the

first degree and sentenced to life imprisonment. Their appeal for a new

trial was denied."

In his report to the Governor, written in 1914, Carl characterized the

case as follows:--

"The occurrence known as the Wheatland Hop-Fields riot took place on

Sunday afternoon, August 3, 1913. Growing discontent among the

hop-pickers over wages, neglected camp-sanitation and absence of water

in the fields had resulted in spasmodic meetings of protest on Saturday

and Sunday morning, and finally by Sunday noon in a more or less

involuntary strike. At five o'clock on Sunday about one thousand

pickers gathered about a dance pavilion to listen to speakers. Two

automobiles carrying a sheriff's posse drove up to this meeting, and

officials armed with guns and revolvers attempted to disperse the crowd

and to arrest, on a John Doe warrant, Richard Ford, the apparent leader

of the strike. In the ensuing confusion shooting began and some twenty

shots were fired. Two pickers, a deputy sheriff, and the district

attorney of the county were killed. The posse fled and the camp remained

unpoliced until the State Militia arrived at dawn next morning.

"The occurrence has grown from a casual, though bloody, event in

California labor history into such a focus for discussion and analysis

of the State's great migratory labor-problem that the incident can well

be said to begin, for the commonwealth, a new and momentous labor epoch.

"The problem of vagrancy; that of the unemployed and the unemployable;

the vexing conflict between the right of agitation and free speech and

the law relating to criminal conspiracy; the housing and wages of

agricultural laborers; the efficiency and sense of responsibility found

in a posse of country deputies; the temper of the country people faced

with the confusion and rioting of a labor outbreak; all these problems

have found a starting point for their new and vigorous analysis in the

Wheatland riot.

In the same report, submitted a year before the "Quarterly Journal"

article, and almost a year before his study of psychology began, Carl

wrote:--

"The manager and part-owner of the ranch is an example of a certain type

of California employer. The refusal of this type to meet the social

responsibilities which come with the hiring of human beings for labor,

not only works concrete and cruelly unnecessary misery upon a class

little able to combat personal indignity and degradation, but adds fuel

to the fire of resentment and unrest which is beginning to burn in the

uncared-for migratory worker in California. That ---- could refuse his

clear duty of real trusteeship of a camp on his own ranch, which

contained hundreds of women and children, is a social fact of miserable

import. The excuses we have heard of unpreparedness, of alleged

ignorance of conditions, are shamed by the proven human suffering and

humiliation repeated each day of the week, from Wednesday to Sunday.

Even where the employer's innate sense of moral obligation fails to

point out his duty, he should have realized the insanity of stimulating

unrest and bitterness in this inflammable labor force. The riot on the

---- ranch is a California contribution to the literature of the social

unrest in America."

As to the "Legal and Economic Aspects" of the case, again quoting from

the report to the Governor:--

"The position taken by the defense and their sympathizers in the course

of the trial has not only an economic and social bearing, but many

arguments made before the court are distinct efforts to introduce

sociological modifications of the law which will have a far-reaching

effect on the industrial relations of capital and labor. It is asserted

that the common law, on which American jurisprudence is founded, is

known as an ever-developing law, which must adapt itself to changing

economic and social conditions; and, in this connection, it is claimed

that the established theories of legal causation must be enlarged to

include economic and social factors in the chain of causes leading to a

result. Concretely, it is argued:--

"First, That, when unsanitary conditions lead to discontent so intense

that the crowd can be incited to bloodshed, those responsible for the

unsanitary conditions are to be held legally responsible for the

bloodshed, as well as the actual inciters of the riot.

"Second, That, if the law will not reach out so far as to hold the

creator of unsanitary, unlivable conditions guilty of bloodshed, at any

rate such conditions excuse the inciters from liability, because

inciters are the involuntary transmitting agents of an uncontrollable

force set in motion by those who created the unlivable conditions. . . .

"Furthermore, on the legal side, modifications of the law of property

are urged. It is argued that modern law no longer holds the rights of

private property sacred, that these rights are being constantly

regulated and limited, and that in the Wheatland case the owner's

traditional rights in relation to his own lands are to be held subject

to the right of the laborers to organize thereon. It is urged that a

worker on land has a 'property right in his job,' and that he cannot be

made to leave the job, or the land, merely because he is trying to

organize his fellow workers to make a protest as to living and economic

conditions. It is urged that the organizing worker cannot be made to

leave the job because the job is _his_ property and it is all that he

has."

As to "The Remedy":--

"It is obvious that the violent strike methods adopted by the I.W.W.

type agitators, which only incidentally, although effectively, tend to

improve camp conditions, are not to be accepted as a solution of the

problem. It is also obvious that the conviction of the agitators, such

as Ford and Suhr, of murder, is not a solution, but is only the

punishment or revenge inflicted by organized society for a past deed.

The Remedy lies in prevention.

"It is the opinion of your investigator that the improvement of living

conditions in the labor camps will have the immediate effect of making

the recurrence of impassioned, violent strikes and riots not only

improbable, but impossible; and furthermore, such improvement will go

far towards eradicating the hatred and bitterness in the minds of the

employers and in the minds of the roving, migratory laborers. This

accomplished, the two conflicting parties will be in a position to meet

on a saner, more constructive basis, in solving the further industrial

problems arising between them. . . .

"They must come to realize that their own laxity in allowing the

existence of unsanitary and filthy conditions gives a much-desired

foothold to the very agitators of the revolutionary I.W.W. doctrines

whom they so dread; they must learn that unbearable, aggravating living

conditions inoculate the minds of the otherwise peaceful workers with

the germs of bitterness and violence, as so well exemplified at the

Wheatland riot, giving the agitators a fruitful field wherein to sow the

seeds of revolt and preach the doctrine of direct action and sabotage.

"On the other hand, the migratory laborers must be shown that revolts

accompanied by force in scattered and isolated localities not only

involve serious breaches of law and lead to crime, but that they

accomplish no lasting constructive results in advancing their cause.

"The Commission intends to furnish a clearinghouse to hear complaints of

grievances, of both sides, and act as a mediator or safety-valve."

In the report to the Governor appear Carl's first writings on the I.W.W.

"Of this entire labor force at the ---- ranch, it appears that some 100

had been I.W.W. 'card men,' or had had affiliations with that

organization. There is evidence that there was in this camp a loosely

caught together camp local of the I.W.W., with about 30 active members.

It is suggestive that these 30 men, through a spasmodic action, and with

the aid of the deplorable camp conditions, dominated a heterogeneous

mass of 2800 unskilled laborers in 3 days. Some 700 or 800 of the

force were of the 'hobo' class, in every sense potential I.W.W.

strikers. At least 400 knew in a rough way the--for them curiously

attractive--philosophy of the I.W.W., and could also sing some of its

songs.

"Of the 100-odd 'card men' of the I.W.W., some had been through the San

Diego affair, some had been soap-boxers in Fresno, a dozen had been in

the Free Speech fight in Spokane. They sized up the hop-field as a ripe

opportunity, as the principal defendant, 'Blackie' Ford, puts it, 'to

start something.' On Friday, two days after picking began, the practical

agitators began working through the camp. Whether or not Ford came to

the ---- ranch to foment trouble seems immaterial. There are five Fords

in every camp of seasonal laborers in California. We have devoted

ourselves in these weeks to such questions as this: 'How big a per cent

of California's migratory seasonal labor force know the technique of an

I.W.W. strike?' 'How many of the migratory laborers know when conditions

are ripe to "start something"?' We are convinced that among the

individuals of every fruit-farm labor group are many potential strikers.

Where a group of hoboes sit around a fire under a railroad bridge, many

of the group can sing I.W.W. songs without the book. This was not so

three years ago. The I.W.W. in California is not a closely organized

body, with a steady membership. The rank and file know little of the

technical organization of industrial life which their written

constitution demands. They listen eagerly to the appeal for the

'solidarity' of their class. In the dignifying of vagabondage through

their crude but virile song and verse, in the bitter vilification of the

jail turnkey and county sheriff, in their condemnation of the church and

its formal social work, they find the vindication of their hobo status

which they desire. They cannot sustain a live organization unless they

have a strike or free-speech fight to stimulate their spirit. It is in

their methods of warfare, not in their abstract philosophy or even

hatred of law and judges, that danger lies for organized society. Since

every one of the 5000 laborers in California who have been at some time

connected with the I.W.W. considers himself a 'camp delegate' with

walking papers to organize a camp local, this small army is watching, as

Ford did, for an unsanitary camp or low wage-scale, to start the strike

which will not only create a new I.W.W. local, but bring fame to the

organizer. This common acceptance of direct action and sabotage as the

rule of operation, the songs and the common vocabulary are, we feel

convinced, the first stirring of a class expression.

"Class solidarity they have not. That may never come, for the migratory

laborer has neither the force nor the vision nor tenacity to hold long

enough to the ideal to attain it. But the I.W.W. is teaching a method of

action which will give this class in violent flare-ups, such as that at

Wheatland, expression.

"The dying away of the organization after the outburst is, therefore, to

be expected. Their social condition is a miserable one. Their work, even

at the best, must be irregular. They have nothing to lose in a strike,

and, as a leader put it, 'A riot and a chance to blackguard a jailer is

about the only intellectual fun we have.'

"Taking into consideration the misery and physical privation and the

barren outlook of this life of the seasonal worker, the I.W.W. movement,

with all its irresponsible motive and unlawful action, becomes in

reality a class-protest, and the dignity which this characteristic gives

it perhaps alone explains the persistence of the organization in the

field.

"Those attending the protest mass-meeting of the Wheatland hop-pickers

were singing the I.W.W. song 'Mr. Block,' when the sheriff's posse came

up in its automobiles. The crowd had been harangued by an experienced

I.W.W. orator--'Blackie' Ford. They had been told, according to

evidence, to 'knock the blocks off the scissor-bills.' Ford had taken a

sick baby from its mother's arms and, holding it before the eyes of the

1500 people, had cried out: 'It's for the life of the kids we're doing

this.' Not a quarter of the crowd was of a type normally venturesome

enough to strike, and yet, when the sheriff went after Ford, he was

knocked down and kicked senseless by infuriated men. In the bloody riot

which then ensued, District Attorney Manwell, Deputy Sheriff Riordan, a

negro Porto Rican and the English boy were shot and killed. Many were

wounded. The posse literally fled, and the camp remained practically

unpoliced until the State Militia arrived at dawn the next day.

"The question of social responsibility is one of the deepest

significance. The posse was, I am convinced, over-nervous and,

unfortunately, over-rigorous. This can be explained in part by the

state-wide apprehension over the I.W.W.; in part by the normal

California country posse's attitude toward a labor trouble. A deputy

sheriff, at the most critical moment, fired a shot in the air, as he

stated, 'to sober the crowd.' There were armed men in the crowd, for

every crowd of 2000 casual laborers includes a score of gunmen. Evidence

goes to show that even the gentler mountainfolk in the crowd had been

aroused to a sense of personal injury. ----'s automobile had brought

part of the posse. Numberless pickers cling to the belief that the posse

was '----'s police.' When Deputy Sheriff Dakin shot into the air, a

fusillade took place; and when he had fired his last shell, an

infuriated crowd of men and women chased him to the ranch store, where

he was forced to barricade himself. The crowd was dangerous and struck

the first blow. The murderous temper which turned the crowd into a mob

is incompatible with social existence, let alone social progress. The

crowd at the moment of the shooting was a wild and lawless animal. But

to your investigator the important subject to analyze is not the guilt

or innocence of Ford or Suhr, as the direct stimulators of the mob in

action, but to name and standardize the early and equally important

contributors to a psychological situation which resulted in an unlawful

killing. If this is done, how can we omit either the filth of the

hop-ranch, the cheap gun-talk of the ordinary deputy sheriff, or the

unbridled, irresponsible speech of the soap-box orator?

"Without doubt the propaganda which the I.W.W. had actually adopted for

the California seasonal worker can be, in its fairly normal working out

in law, a criminal conspiracy, and under that charge, Ford and Suhr have

been found guilty of the Wheatland murder. But the important fact is,

that this propaganda will be carried out, whether unlawful or not. We

have talked hours with the I.W.W. leaders, and they are absolutely

conscious of their position in the eyes of the law. Their only comment

is that they are glad, if it must be a conspiracy, that it is a criminal

conspiracy. They have volunteered the beginning of a cure; it is to

clean up the housing and wage problem of the seasonal worker. The

shrewdest I.W.W. leader we found said: 'We can't agitate in the country

unless things are rotten enough to bring the crowd along.' They

evidently were in Wheatland."

He was high ace with the Wobbly for a while. They invited him to their

Jungles, they carved him presents in jail. I remember a talk he gave on

some phase of the California labor-problem one Sunday night, at the

Congregational church in Oakland. The last three rows were filled with

unshaven hoboes, who filed up afterwards, to the evident distress of the

clean regular church-goers, to clasp his hand. They withdrew their

allegiance after a time, which naturally in no way phased Carl's

scientific interest in them. A paper hostile to Carl's attitude on the

I.W.W. and his insistence on the clean-up of camps published an article

portraying him as a double-faced individual who feigned an interest in

the under-dog really to undo him, as he was at heart and pocket-book a

capitalist, being the possessor of an independent income of $150,000 a

year. Some I.W.W.'s took this up, and convinced a large meeting that he

was really trying to sell them out. It is not only the rich who are

fickle. Some of them remained his firm friends always, however. That

summer two of his students hoboed it till they came down with malaria,

in the meantime turning in a fund of invaluable facts regarding the

migratory and his life.

A year later, in his article in the "Quarterly Journal," and, be it

remembered, after his study of psychology had begun, Carl wrote:--

"There is here, beyond a doubt, a great laboring population experiencing

a high suppression of normal instincts and traditions. There can be no

greater perversion of a desirable existence than this insecure,

under-nourished, wandering life, with its sordid sex-expression and

reckless and rare pleasures. Such a life leads to one of two

consequences: either a sinking of the class to a low and hopeless level,

where they become, through irresponsible conduct and economic

inefficiency, a charge upon society; or revolt and guerrilla labor

warfare.

"The migratory laborers, as a class, are the finished product of an

environment which seems cruelly efficient in turning out beings moulded

after all the standards society abhors. Fortunately the psychologists

have made it unnecessary to explain that there is nothing willful or

personally reprehensible in the vagrancy of these vagrants. Their

histories show that, starting with the long hours and dreary winters of

the farms they ran away from, through their character-debasing

experience with irregular industrial labor, on to the vicious economic

life of the winter unemployed, their training predetermined but one

outcome. Nurture has triumphed over nature; the environment has

produced its type. Difficult though the organization of these people may

be, a coincidence of favoring conditions may place an opportunity in the

hands of a super-leader. If this comes, one can be sure that California

will be both very astonished and very misused."

I was told only recently of a Belgian economics professor, out here in

California during the war, on official business connected with aviation.

He asked at once to see Carl, but was told we had moved to Seattle. "My

colleagues in Belgium asked me to be sure and see Professor Parker," he

said, "as we consider him the one man in America who understands the

problem of the migratory laborer."

That winter Carl got the city of San José to stand behind a model

unemployed lodging-house, one of the two students who had "hoboed"

during the summer taking charge of it. The unemployed problem, as he ran

into it at every turn, stirred Carl to his depths. At one time he felt

it so strongly that he wanted to start a lodging-house in Berkeley,

himself, just to be helping out somehow, even though it would be only

surface help.

It was also about this time that California was treated to the spectacle

of an Unemployed Army, which was driven from pillar to post,--or, in

this case, from town to town,--each trying to outdo the last in

protestations of unhospitality. Finally, in Sacramento the fire-hoses

were turned on the army. At that Carl flamed with indignation, and

expressed himself in no mincing terms, both to the public and to the

reporter who sought his views. He was no hand to keep clippings, but I

did come across one of his milder interviews in the San Francisco

"Bulletin" of March 11, 1914.

"That California's method of handling the unemployed problem is in

accord with the 'careless, cruel and unscientific attitude of society on

the labor question,' is the statement made to-day by Professor Carleton

H. Parker, Assistant Professor of Industrial economy, and secretary of

the State Immigration Committee.

"'There are two ways of looking at this winter's unemployed problem,'

said Dr. Parker; 'one is fatally bad and the other promises good. One

way is shallow and biased; the other strives to use the simple rules of

science for the analysis of any problem. One way is to damn the army of

the unemployed and the irresponsible, irritating vagrants who will not

work. The other way is to admit that any such social phenomenon as this

army is just as normal a product of our social organization as our own

university.

"'Much street-car and ferry analysis of this problem that I have

overheard seems to believe that this army created its own degraded self,

that a vagrant is a vagrant from personal desire and perversion. This

analysis is as shallow as it is untrue. If unemployment and vagrancy are

the product of our careless, indifferent society over the half-century,

then its cure will come only by a half-century's careful regretful

social labor by this same tardy society.

"'The riot at Sacramento is merely the appearance of the problem from

the back streets into the strong light. The handling of the problem

there is unhappily in accord with the careless, cruel attitude of

society on this question. We are willing to respect the anxiety of

Sacramento, threatened in the night with this irresponsible, reckless

invasion; but how can the city demand of vagrants observance of the law,

when they drop into mob-assertion the minute the problem comes up to

them?'"

The illustration he always used to express his opinion of the average

solution of unemployment, I quote from a paper of his on that subject,

written in the spring of 1915.

"There is an old test for insanity which is made as follows: the suspect

is given a cup, and is told to empty a bucket into which water is

running from a faucet. If the suspect turns off the water before he

begins to bail out the bucket, he is sane. Nearly all the current

solutions of unemployment leave the faucet running. . . .

"The heart of the problem, the cause, one might well say, of

unemployment, is that the employment of men regularly or irregularly is

at no time an important consideration of those minds which control

industry. Social organization has ordered it that these minds shall be

interested only in achieving a reasonable profit in the manufacture and

the sale of goods. Society has never demanded that industries be run

even in part to give men employment. Rewards are not held out for such a

policy, and therefore it is unreasonable to expect such a performance.

Though a favorite popular belief is that we must 'work to live,' we

have no current adage of a 'right to work.' This winter there are

shoeless men and women, closed shoe-factories, and destitute shoemakers;

children in New England with no woolen clothing, half-time woolen mills,

and unemployed spinners and weavers. Why? Simply because the mills

cannot turn out the reasonable business profit; and since that is the

only promise that can galvanize them into activity, they stand idle, no

matter how much humanity finds of misery and death in this decision.

This statement is not a peroration to a declaration for Socialism. It

seems a fair rendering of the matter-of-fact logic of the analysis.

"It seems hopeless, and also unfair, to expect out-of-work insurance,

employment bureaus, or philanthropy, to counteract the controlling force

of profit-seeking. There is every reason to believe that profit-seeking

has been a tremendous stimulus to economic activity in the past. It is

doubtful if the present great accumulation of capital would have come

into existence without it. But to-day it seems as it were to be caught

up by its own social consequences. It is hard to escape from the

insistence of a situation in which the money a workman makes in a year

fails to cover the upkeep of his family; and this impairment of the

father's income through unemployment has largely to be met by child-and

woman-labor. The Federal Immigration Commission's report shows that in

not a single great American industry can the average yearly income of

the father keep his family. Seven hundred and fifty dollars is the bare

minimum for the maintenance of the average-sized American industrial

family. The average yearly earnings of the heads of families working in

the United States in the iron and steel industry is $409; in bituminous

coal-mining $451; in the woolen industry $400; in silk $448; in cotton

$470; in clothing $530; in boots and shoes $573; in leather $511; in

sugar-refining $549; in the meat industry $578; in furniture $598, etc.

"He who decries created work, municipal lodging-houses, bread-lines, or

even sentimental charity, in the face of the winter's destitution, has

an unsocial soul. The most despicable thing to-day is the whine of our

cities lest their inadequate catering to their own homeless draw a few

vagrants from afar. But when the agony of our winter makeshifting is by,

will a sufficient minority of our citizens rise and demand that the best

technical, economic, and sociological brains in our wealthy nation

devote themselves with all courage and honesty to the problem of

unemployment?"

Carl was no diplomat, in any sense of the word--above all, no political

diplomat. It is a wonder that the Immigration and Housing Commission

stood behind him as long as it did. He grew rabid at every political

appointment which, in his eyes, hampered his work. It was evident, so

they felt, that he was not tactful in his relations with various members

of the Commission. It all galled him terribly, and after much

consultation at home, he handed in his resignation. During the first

term of his secretaryship, from October to December, he carried his

full-time University work. From January to May he had a seminar only,

as I remember. From August on he gave no University work at all; so,

after asking to have his resignation from the Commission take effect at

once, he had at once to find something to do to support his family.

This was in October, 1914, after just one year as Executive Secretary.

We were over in Contra Costa County then, on a little ranch of my

father's. Berkeley socially had come to be too much of a strain, and,

too, we wanted the blessed sons to have a real country experience. Ten

months we were there. Three days after Carl resigned, he was on his way

to Phoenix, Arizona,--where there was a threatened union tie-up,--as

United States Government investigator of the labor situation. He added

thereby to his first-hand stock of labor-knowledge, made a firm friend

of Governor Hunt,--he was especially interested in his prison

policy,--and in those few weeks was the richer by one more of the really

intimate friendships one counts on to the last--Will Scarlett.

He wrote, on Carl's death, "What a horrible, hideous loss! Any of us

could so easily have been spared; that he, who was of such value, had to

go seems such an utter waste. . . . He was one of that very, very small

circle of men, whom, in the course of our lives, we come _really_ to

love. His friendship meant so much--though I heard but infrequently from

him, there was the satisfaction of a deep friendship that was _always

there_ and _always the same_. He would have gone so far! I have looked

forward to a great career for him, and had such pride in him. It's too

hideous!"

An American Idyll: The Life of Carleton H. Parker · 第 9 / 17 章