VALLEJO, MARE ISLAND, AND ALCATRAZ.
"I am sure you will enjoy a trip with me to Vallejo and Uncle Sam's
great navy yard, adjacent to it. It is only about an hour's ride from
San Francisco and is accessible both by train and boat," I said to my
friend, Mrs. Walter C. Show, of Santa Barbara, whose guest I then was,
in her lovely villa in that beautiful city by the sea. She had been
giving me most interesting accounts of her entertainment of the marines
and the cadets at the time when the fleet lay at anchor in the bay. As
I was soon due in San Francisco, she accompanied me. Before starting we
notified friends; consequently, warm welcome and royal entertainment
was ours from the time of arrival.
As this was by no means my first visit, I prepared her for the shock of
seeing many, many saloons and other disreputable places for the purpose
of robbing hundreds, nay, thousands of boys, far from home and mother,
of their hard and scanty earnings. Nevertheless, there is an excellent
Marine Y.M.C.A. in Vallejo, with a large membership; but they are in
the minority. We saw scores pouring out of the saloons or hanging
around their immediate vicinity; scores more that evening coming in or
going out of the dance-halls and dens of iniquity and vice. Many were
in dreadful stages of intoxication. Alas! the pity, the great pity of
it, that Uncle Sam does not wake up to protect those ready to lay down
their lives for home and country, not to speak of the hundreds of
thousands, nay, millions of our floating population. Where will it all
eventually end? where, oh! where?
I contend that the civic clubs of any community hold the key to the
situation. If they would strive for the prevention of crime rather than
for the reformation of the criminal, the resultant good would soon be
tenfold that of the present regime.
The day following our arrival we were taken to inspect Mare Island. As
heretofore, the prison-ship was filled with young men serving short
terms or awaiting trial for some serious offense. _In almost every
instance liquor was responsible for their being in trouble._ It was
heartrending. We realized that, aside from speaking a kind word or
giving some motherly advice, we could do little if anything. We were
inadequate to cope with the situation. We could pray with them, poor
lads; we could sympathize with them; but we were practically powerless
in that or in any community that tolerates, licenses, and votes for the
means of the downfall of men, women, and children. All we can do is
pray and wait, wait and pray. God speed the day when the enemy of souls
shall no longer reign over them and laugh at their calamity. God speed
the day.
I again made it my business to visit many lost girls in that city,
earnestly pleading with them to quit the downward path and stop
dragging other souls down to hell along with their own. _Most of them
appeared to be gospel hardened._ One girl, however, seriously impressed
me. She was one of the few who would listen.
"I'll tell you how I'm situated," she said, "and then if you don't
think I am to be pitied more than blamed, you're different from what I
think you are. I've the dearest mother on earth. She lies, a hopeless
cripple, in a little cottage in West Oakland. I also have a little
brother not old enough to go to school yet. I hire a woman who has
known us for many years to take care of them. She is elderly, and, for
the sake of a good home, works for small wages. She knows how I live,
but would rather die than betray me. Mother thinks I am working in a
hotel where I get plenty of 'tips' besides my wages. I go home every
Monday to see her. _Mother Roberts, I would give the world if I could
be able to have my pure mother kiss lips that were clean instead of
stained and stained with sin._
"I won't send her to the hospital. I love her better than my life.
She'd die there, for the need of nice little things they never provide,
and other necessaries. My little brother would have to be reared in
some charity institution. I couldn't stand it. I'm the most unhappy
girl on earth because of the situation, and don't you forget it; but I
can't, I can't earn sufficient honest money to support them and myself
properly."
Later, the mother died, and _the poor daughter, who had ruined her life
to support her, went insane and then took her life._
Some of the girls told me that one man owned nearly all the dance-halls
there as well as the girls, and that very few of them had any liberty
or money. They were living in hope, but alas! many were dying in
despair. Apparently little if any impression could be made on those we
did have a chance to talk with. We could only sow the seed and trust
our merciful God for results.
All the pastors invited us into the pulpits, where we endeavored
faithfully to give such messages as God saw fit to lay on our hearts.
The next day we left for a visit to Alcatraz Island, the isolated
military prison situated midway between San Francisco and Sausalito.
Oh, what a gloomy, desolate place! Notwithstanding its beautiful
situation, excellent discipline, etc., its atmosphere is most
depressing. Even before one lands one feels weighted down, despondent
for its prisoners, many of whom sit or stand with hats drawn low over
their faces, breaking, ever breaking stones by the roadside. Nearly all
are being punished for desertion. The sympathetic visitor longs to
address them, but is not permitted to do so. He is allowed only a brief
visit with whomsoever he has, after much trouble, received a permit for
an interview, and then always in the presence and within hearing of the
officer in charge. Surely the way of the transgressor is hard, and
especially so with the violator of Uncle Sam's rigid army and navy
rules and regulations. For this reason Uncle Sam ought to remove the
stumbling-blocks that he countenances and legalizes and that cause so
many of his otherwise obedient servants to fall into disrepute and, in
numerous cases, into untimely graves.
The young man whom we had come to visit, though a refined, intelligent
soldier, was a deserter. He had the usual sad story to relate--wine,
women, then desertion. There was so little, with the exception of
Christian sympathy, with which we could encourage him. The future
looked gloomy. I made an effort, through one of my friends in Congress,
to obtain this young man's parole, but as this was his second offense,
the attempt was futile. It is hard, very hard on the missionary to have
to be the bearer of discouraging, often heart-breaking, news; but as
this is part of our office, we bear the cross as we alone can, always
pointing the disappointed and heavy-hearted to the Savior, the
Burden-bearer; sometimes, but not always, leaving them with the load
somewhat lightened.
From this sad place we, with heavy hearts, proceeded to San Quentin.
After spending two hours (for our time was limited) we then departed
for San Francisco, where we visited various points of interest to the
consecrated ones. Then, after an absence of ten days, we returned to
beautiful Santa Barbara, where church and other engagements were
awaiting me.
Thence I traveled up the Coast, ever with the one object in view--"the
Master's service." I visited jails and the avenues that lead to that
place, and held many meetings, always being well received by pastors of
various denominations, civic societies, etc. In the name of the Lord,
yet with the spirit of love, I endeavored to place the blame for the
downfall of the masses where it belonged and belongs--at the door of
the licensed saloon.
When I reached San Luis Obispo, I learned, to my great joy, that the
Columbia Park Band Boys of San Francisco, forty of whom were on a
walking tour from that city to Los Angeles, were due the following day.
At Chittenden (my home), just before I left, my friends had
delightfully entertained them with a picnic on their beautiful grounds.
There we learned what an effectual (prevention) work was being carried
on for the reputable lads of the public schools of San Francisco under
the leadership of the Piexotto brothers, who arrange for
entertainments, outings, and treats throughout the year, thus appealing
to all the better instincts and qualities of many of the rising
generation. It is truly a most practical, worthy enterprise, one which
should be adopted in all large cities for the encouragement and the
promotion of better citizenship.
A sad case was awaiting trial in this city--a fifteen-year-old girl
prisoner accused of the murder of her babe. I visited her frequently.
She was finally sent to Whittier Reform School. Much comment on this is
out of the question; suffice it to say, the girl, because of her pre
and post-natal environments, was far more to be pitied than blamed.
I was next due at Santa Maria. During my brief sojourn there I was the
guest of the president of the Women's Improvement Club, who, with many
others, was making a strenuous effort to abolish the saloon from their
midst. I there became acquainted with a very enthusiastic, fearless
child of God, a converted Jew, whose name I can not recall at the time
of this writing, but whose help I greatly appreciated. He was leaving
no stone unturned for the elimination of the local liquor traffic.
Returning to San Luis Obispo for a brief stay, I was much gratified in
renewing the acquaintance of Dr. Bulgin, a successful evangelist, with
whom, in various places, I have had the pleasure of being more or less
associated in the work.
S----, the city where I was on the morning of the earthquake, was once
more, for a short time, my stopping-place. As something that had just
occurred, so dreadful yet so interesting, occupied all my time and
attention during my stay there, and as it furnishes ample material for
another story, I will relate it in the following chapter.