Although it is impossible to do justice to any department of the National Woman’s Party, it seems particularly difficult in the case of the organizers. The reason for this is not far to seek. These young women were turned loose, sometimes quite inexperienced; sometimes only one to a State, with the injunction to come back with their shield or on it. They always came back with their shield—that is to say an organization of some sort in the State they had just left. As has been before stated, the National Woman’s Party has organized in every State in the union at some time during its history—that is between the years 1912 and 1919. As has also been stated, the organizers divided into three groups—those who worked in the first two years; those who worked in the middle two; those who worked in the last two.
It has been shown with what careful instruction Alice Paul sent these young adventurers into the wide wide world of unorganized States; but perhaps justice has not been done to the trust she placed in them and the consequent extraordinary results. She kept in close telegraphic communication with them all the time—and yet always, she left them free to make big decisions and sudden changes in policy. “She made us feel that we could do it in the first place,” one of them said to me, “and somehow we did. That sense we had of her—brooding and hovering back there in Washington—always gave us courage; always gave us the physical strength to do the things we did and the mental strength to make the decisions we made.”
As one looks through the lists of these three groups of organizers, one is astounded at the various kinds of work 328they did; their versatility. Mabel Vernon for instance. Her activities form an integral part of the Woman’s Party history. Mabel Vernon traveling ahead of Sara Bard Field in her spectacular automobile trip across the country, was more responsible than anybody, except Mrs. Field herself, for the success of that trip. Mabel Vernon challenged the President in the course of his speech at the laying of the corner-stone of the new Headquarters of the American Federation of Labor in Washington. Mabel Vernon was one of the women who dropped the banner in the Senate when the President came to speak before them. Mabel Vernon picketed and went to jail. Mabel Vernon seems to have organized or spoken in every State in the union.
Elsie Hill, Doris Stevens—you find them everywhere, luminous spirits with a new modern adjunct of political-mindedness. Abby Scott Baker was always on the wing.
One’s mind stops at the names of Vivian Pierce, Lucy Branham, Mary Gertrude Fendall, Hazel Hunkins. How many and what varying and difficult things they did! Vivian Pierce in addition to speaking and organizing and picketing activities, edited the Suffragist, and designed the charming tea-room at Headquarters. As for Lucy Branham—she must have seemed a stormy petrel to all opposing forces—she had so much the capacity of being everywhere at once.
When one comes to the last group, a sense—almost of awe—is leavened by a decided sense of amusement. Julia Emory, Betty Gram, Anita Pollitzer, Mary Dubrow, Catherine Flanagan are all little girls. But in Suffrage work, they were active, insistent, and persistent in inverse ratio to their size. In ratification, that legislature was doomed on which any two of them descended.
What they accomplished! Once Alice Paul turned Anita Pollitzer loose on the entire State of Wyoming and Anita Pollitzer brought Wyoming into camp. It is impossible to do justice to all of them, to any of them. But as an example of how they worked, I am quoting from letters written by Anita Pollitzer describing various experiences in her work 329of organization. I use Miss Pollitzer’s letters, not because they are exceptional but because they are typical. Space will not permit me to do equal justice to any of the others. But perhaps some day all those marvelous narratives will be collected. Miss Pollitzer writes me as follows:
Wyoming
“Campaign against the party in power”—late October, 1918—snow on the ground and no friends in the State—traveled miles to get help of most influential woman, found her lying on the floor of a church with brass tacks and a hammer—She said she was “chairman of the committee on laying carpets in the church,” and that was all she could undertake.
Cheyenne wonderfully beautiful—plains—most exceptional place for campaign purposes—forty minutes between street cars—snow miles high and every woman demanding a separate visit. Influenza epidemic so bad that it was considered immoral for six women to meet in a parlor—only way was to campaign by dodgers and street signs—Got permission from owner of building to put a forty-foot purple, white, and gold sign, suspended it from the most prominent building—Town literally gathered in groups to see it—I got up next morning at seven and sign was down—I had “antagonized”—so I went to call on the Mayor and we toured the town, and rehung the sign on an even more important street, and I had double publicity, the Mayor taking full responsibility for the sign even inquiring if it would “run in the rain.”
Such fearful snow, could get no billboard men to put up my big paper signs outside of the cities, and I wanted them on cross-country roads. I met a woman delivering newspapers, explained our campaign and my difficulties, and she offered us her eighteen-year-old daughter and a box of stickers, and we tramped the automobile roads and papered the tree trunks—Posters.
This is my first National Woman’s Party trip. Wyoming a real adventure—South where I have always lived (Charleston, South Carolina) so utterly unlike—When I went out to mail my thousands of circular letters each night at two A.M. funny Filipino bell boys and other kinds would escort me and carry the thousands of circular letters to mail box. Local post-office really asked me to be “more considerate.”
330South Carolina
Getting Senator Pollock’s vote seemed largely a question of getting the farmers of South Carolina. If Pollock (the Progressive) was to beat Senator Smith (the Reactionary) he must please the farm element.
So I journeyed out to Mayesville—arrived on hog-killing day—at the house of Dabs—impressive person, leading farmer of South Carolina. We ate all day, and sat around a glorious fire, and in the afternoon Mr. Dabs wrote a letter that he gave me to take to town to mail that helped more than we’ll ever know. In the letter Dabs spoke for the farmers, urged Pollock to declare for the Suffrage Amendment, and ended, “We farmers are doing little talking but a lot of thinking.”
I always believed if Pollock voted, he would vote “Yes.” But Mrs. William P. Vaughan of Greenville, our State Chairman, and I tramped the State up and down, saying, “There’ll be no vote—unless Pollock declares.”
Finally one night Senator Pollock’s secretary appeared at my hotel in Columbia, and he said, “Don’t say again that Pollock is defeating Suffrage by delay.” I said, “Well, then, get him to declare.” He said, “I’m going to Washington, going tomorrow. Good night. We will have a surprise for you within a week—within three days.” And at once, after weeks and weeks of campaigning, Senator Pollock of South Carolina broke the Conservative record of his State, declared “Yes,” and voted “Yes,” on the freedom of American women.
When it was all over—his vote and our campaign to get him to declare—I came back to Washington, had lunch with him at the Capitol, and sat, while he told me of the numerous people in South Carolina who had asked him to vote “Yes!” “You’ll never know the sentiment that exists in South Carolina,” was all he said. But I felt we knew.
Florida
Getting the South Florida Press Association at its annual meeting to endorse the Federal Suffrage Amendment was marvelous fun—I learned that Senator Trammell had gotten solid support from two counties, and owed this support to a man named Goolsby—editor. So I hired a car and made for Goolsby. He is a very powerful newspaper man. We sat around a log fire, with the wife, a parrot, and a cat, and finally he said he was 331going in two days to a meeting of the South Florida Press Association, and that he was President. I said, “I’m going too.” He said, “Well, there’s hope while there’s life—they’re against you, but you can try.” I felt that we could do it, talked it all over with him, and said that I would be down to put the resolution in regardless of the results—but that I knew it could pass.
Two days seemed like years. At daybreak—five—I climbed in a Ford and arrived at the Press Conference at ten. Goolsby was the only one I knew. He introduced me to the Resolutions Committee. I sat through speeches and speeches. At noon came a luncheon. The Chairman of the Resolutions Committee took me to that. Then an auto ride all through the orange groves—we got out and picked them, talking Suffrage all the while. Only the Resolutions Committee and I were in the car. The Chairman of the Committee finally said out of a clear sky to the elderly gentleman at my left—a strong anti—“I believe we ought to pass a resolution or something, don’t you, thanking Miss Pollitzer for coming?”—all in joke. I said: “No, but you ought to pass a resolution urging your own Florida Senators to stand behind President Wilson. T............