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J. Frank (James Frank) Hanly.

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back through all the ages and hearing Him, the Master of
all Life, calling us, the womanhood of the world, calling
us to our business, calling us to partnership with Himself,
calling us to the business of man-raising. It is woman's
business to raise men and it is an awful job. (Laughter.)
It takes at least two women to raise one good man. It takes
his mother twenty-one straight years of her life, and that
is a long time to put on one piece of business ; then she
turns that unfinished piece over to another woman, his
wife- sometimes it takes more than one wife (Laughter)
but it is worth it. Little mother, you are not raising live-
stock. It were honor enough and privilege enough and a
task enough worth while if you were raising men for that
old flag ; but that is not all you are doing. We need in this
United States of America, in these great, perilous, awful
times, we need better men under that old flag, and it would
be worth your while .to give twenty-one years of your time
to raise a man who is strong enough, true enough, pure
and noble enough to defend the old flag tonight. (Ap-

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plause.) That is not all your work, splendid as that is, worth
while as that would be that is not all you are doing. Hear
me while I open this book and read God Almighty's descrip-
tion of your son. "Made in the image of God," God the
Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost. That boy, made
in the image of God, is triune in his nature ; he is physical,
mental and spiritual, and that third part of him is immortal.
You are raising sons for the country beyond the blue.
Listen while I read again : "Beloved, now are we the sons
of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we
know that when we shall appear we shall be like Him."
So, little mother, here you are raising men to people the
country that is eternal, raising sons for the Living God.
Is it worth while? No greater business in all the world;
no task more eminently worth while, than this womanhood
business of man-raising.

But something has gone wrong with our business ; we
are not raising as good men as our mothers did, and we
are beginning to ask, if we are not raising as good men
nor as many of them as did our mothers, what is the
matter? I attended a race degeneracy convention a year
ago, and we said, "Why, what is the matter with our busi-
ness ? Why can we not turn out from the American home
men as strong and splendid as were our own fathers ?" The
answer came, "Because America is not furnishing sound
sires for sound sons." Again let me read : "The sins of the
fathers are visited upon the children to the third and fourth
generation." And the stockraisers have discovered that
they cannot raise sound swine without sound sires. Mother-
hood at last has come to recognize that the child is the
product both of his inheritance and his environment, and
science has proven that the man who fills himself with
alcohol receives upon himself, upon his body, upon his
mind; yea, upon his very soul, scars which are irradicable,
and he transmits these scars to his unborn babe. The

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SPEECHES OF THE FLYING SQUADRON

laws of heredity are absolutely inexorable; you cannot
escape them. You are what your father was, and the man
who scars himself by visiting America's licensed saloon,
scars also his unborn babe. Did you think a man paid
for his glass of beer when he put the nickel upon the
counter? He does not pay, his baby pays; that is who
pays for it.

Let me quote you from my Germany Germany, who
has given to the world more men of science than any other
country. Listen to my Germany, who has the trick of
getting hold of an idea and staying with it until it knows.
Germany sent von Schaefer to Munich that Germany
might know just what this beer drinking meant "mit de
kinder." Why? Because Munich drinks more beer than
any city in the world, but you need not squirm, you
American man who does not like to be outdone, for you
are not much outdone. Von Schaefer stayed straight eight
years. He found out what this beer drinking meant to the
"kinder," he was ready to give it to you and to me; he
had proven it again and again. And this is what he found :
Out of every one hundred babies born in beer-drinking
Munich, seventy-two are unsound. Will you listen to that?
Was not life hard enough for you when you came into it
with all your faculties, with no scars on your body or mind
or soul, you were born right? What would it be if you
had been born Avith all these scars on your body, mind and
soul? Listen! If there were seventy-two unsound pigs out
of every hundred, that were a dreadful thing, and the peo-
ple of this country would be doing something about it. Am
I trying to say that you love pigs better than babies? No!
From the blessed man whose name I bear I long ago
learned the untold tenderness, power and gentleness of a
father's love. The trouble is you have left all this to us
women, thinking God gave the babies to us, and then you
tied our hands with the licensed saloon, and we are unable

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to do the work God Almighty gave us to do. It is your
business, it is as much your business as ours, then untie
our hands, give us a chance! For seventy-two unsound
babies out of every one hundred are quite too many.

But then you say, I don't know, maybe these little things
are always unsound. Men do not understand babies.

Then von Schaefer came to this country. I had a talk
with him, and he said, "I came to America, and I found
what you call one 'dry spot.' " We had then only two "dry
spots," Kansas and Maine, and he stopped in old rock-
ribbed Maine to find out what difference prohibition made
"mit de kinder," in Maine, where "prohibition does not
prohibit." You let me tell you that it will prohibit better
when we get Nation-wide prohibition, and not when Maine
is dry and New York and Massachusetts are soaking wet
and run over into would-be prohibition Maine ! Of course
I do not know anything about politics, but that looks to me
like a violation of States' rights but maybe it is not. If a
State votes itself dry, and the Government of the United
States in partnership with wet-goods folk takes revenue
for breaking the law of that State, I would like to know
what you call that but a violation of States' rights?

Well, von Schaefer staid in Maine eighteen months trying
the thing out, the effect of prohibition on the baby. At
the end of eighteen months he printed his report in the
"Volkenschrift" (1911). Seventy-one and a half sound
babies out of every one hundred born in prohibition Maine !
Two and a half times as many sound babies in dry territory
as in wet. It is a miracle that every mother does not move
into dry territory for the sake of her babies. It is the
woman's business to raise men, and if science has proved
that dry territory will raise better men, sound men, then
in mercy's name give to us who are called to this awful
task of man-raising, give to us dry territory, for we have
discovered that you cannot raise sound men in wet territory

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SPEECHES OF THE FLYING SQUADRON

any more than you can raise sound pigs in an unsanitary
pig-sty. Environment has to do with the raising of men
as well as inheritance.

Do you know that it costs the greatest sacrifice this side
Calvary, this sacrifice of motherhood? She goes almost to
the door of death, raps at the door of her own grave to
bring back a man-child, and then for one rapturous, tran-
scendent moment she holds him close to her heart lest he
may slip back into his little grave, for one baby out of
every two born in America dies before it reaches child-
hood. Why? Science says again, and says it with all def-
initeness, that the man who drags his soul through the
shame of a licensed saloon takes out of his unborn baby
its vitality, literally cashes it in, and the child is born
feeble, cannot live, because its father and sometimes, Oh,
the shame of it, its mother has cashed in its little life for
alcohol.

Oh people, hear me ! We are losing our babies because of
the recklessness and dissipation on the part of our fathers
and mothers. I am not so rash as to say that every baby
that dies in America is cursed by the saloon. I am here to
say that science has proven that among the causes of race
degeneracy, first of all comes alcohol. Are we a decaying
race ? If we are, it means that we are not producing sound
sons. If America is passing, it means that we are not pro-
ducing sound sons. If we are a degenerate race, it means
that we have not produced sound sons. And remember that
the first cause of degeneracy is alcoholism. Then let us rise
and throw off this human chain that hangs like a millstone
around this Nation's neck. Do you know that in the fifty
years since my America went into partnership with the
liquor traffic we have produced so many feeble-minded chil-
dren that our feeble-mindedness has increased five hundred
per cent? Does it pay a woman to go to the doors of
death and bring back a gibbering idiot ? He may be strong

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in body, but on the inside there is a feeble mind; he should
be strong in mind and body, standing shoulder to shoulder
with you. You have cashed in his vitality. You spent ninety
millions last year to take care of the feeble-minded, and
that is not all, for all are not taken care of by public
money. For every two children in the feeble-minded institu-
tions there is a third in his mother's arms ; many a tender-
hearted mother will not give her one child to be cared for
in an institution; she cashes in her own life to take care
of it. Dr. Zus says that one out of every two feeble-minded
folk in the world are feeble-minded because of drink in the
first, second or third generation. Think of that! And you
ask the woman to go on with this man-raising business,
when the Government gives her no more help than that;
when it dares to take revenue and go into partnership with
the traffic which destroys her business and makes her
unable to raise sound men, but compels her to raise gibber-
ing imbeciles instead.

We have increased our insanity five hundred per cent,
in the past fifty years in the United States. Fifty years
ago there were not as many crazy folk in the United
States as there are in the State of Indiana tonight. Think
of that ! Somebody who had as much time as sense sat
down and computed the length of time it would take for
us all to go crazy, and he discovered that in exactly two
hundred and sixty years we will all be crazy. You are
increasing insanity under that old flag. Don't you dare to
laugh when I ask you, with the possibility that in two hun-
dred and sixty years every American will be mad, what
will become of my America, what will become of the flag?
What of it? One out of every two of all the insane folk
is caused by drink in the first, second and third generation.
The drunkard may not be mad, but he bequeaths it to his
child, and in adolescence he goes mad, or perhaps he is
only erratic and queer and gets safely past the madhouse,

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but gives this heritage to his offspring all as a result of
your licensed saloon. In Michigan they say that three out
of every four of the crazy folk are crazy because of drink.
It is Herman Ostrander, the famous alienist of the Middle
West, who says that what is true of Michigan is true of the
whole United States. It cost ninety-five millions last year
to take care of the crazy folk. I mean the crazy people
that you have locked up.

But that is not all; there is another link in the chain, and
that is extreme poverty. I do not know how much that
costs you; I do not know how much you are paying to
keep up your poorhouses, but I do know that nine out of
every ten are there because of alcohol.

But that third link is the one I want to refer to now.
Listen to me! Tonight there are two hundred and forty
thousand of our boys and girls with ball and chain attached
to their ankles! Two hundred and forty thousand of our
boys and girls in the penitentiary tonight! I do not mean
jails and workhouses, but in the penitentiaries. Do you
\vonder that a woman's head is bowed with shame and her
heart broken? She went down to the very gates of death
that she might bring back a man who was true enough
and strong enough to defend the flag. But, Oh, my
brethren, look you ! Our heads are bowed with shame and
our hearts broken and bleeding, for sixty-two out of
every one hundred men in the penitentiaries tonight were
accursed by the saloon before they became criminals.

Let me tell you what I saw. A feeble old woman not
as old as I am, but with bowed head and bent back. She
made her feeble way down the corridor in murderer's row
in Joliet prison. I saw her there a few weeks ago. She
came along murderer's row until she stood in front of a
grated cell, then put her thin lips up and kissed a big,
strapping fellow on the other side of the bars. She turned
away and would have fallen; I helped her, and she began

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to cry, "Doesn't God know? Doesn't God know? He was
drunk when he did it ; he is not to blame. His father was
a drunkard, and he must hang!" And then when she was
quiet again, when I had helped her to get quiet the best I
could, she began pacing up and down on the green grass
and wringing her hands, crying, "Doesn't God know?
Doesn't God know? That is my oldest boy, my first-born
son ; but I have two other boys younger than he. Must they
go the same way?"

Oh, my America, will you listen to us, the motherhood of
the land, while we say as she did, "You have our firstborn.
Listen, I plead with you, do you not know it? You have
our firstborn boys in your penitentiaries and asylums be-
cause of the licensed saloon, but we have other boys, boys
in school, baby boys in the cradle, must they go the same
way? Will you continue to take our boys from our arms,
grind them through your saloons into the penitentiary, and
from the penitentiary into hell? It is a serious matter, it
is important not only for the defense of the flag, but for
the work of the Kingdom of God that something be done
to save our boys from utter destruction."

You know I wonder about you men. The only rational
excuse you have ever given us for going into partnership
with rum was that it was for revenue. You have driven
us to take a firm stand these days. There is not a right-
minded woman in the United States of America who would
ever have dreamed of asking for the ballot if you men folk
had done your duty by your own home. (Applause.) But
you did not do it. We would rather be at home with the
cradle by the fireside ; we love the dear, sweet joys with
which you surround us ; we love the fireside and all those
things that we receive from the hands of love, but you
have made this impossible, and today we are clamoring for
the ballot, and some of you are astonished that we ask it.
Do you think we are asking for the ballot for the sake of

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SPEECHES OF THE FLYING SQUADRON

cleaning up politics? As near as I can make out politics
is almost more than you men can clean up. No, we are
asking for the ballot that we may defend our own business,
and when we get the ballot you may just as well know
what we will do with it. We will be true to our house-
keeping instincts, we will just roll that ballot into a mop
and wipe up the last inch of wet territory round about us.
(Applause.)

But I cannot understand you men. The only rational
excuse you ever gave us for going into partnership with
the liquor traffic was that it was for revenue. And you
spent ninety millions to take care of the feeble-minded last
year, and ninety-five millions more to take care of the
insane, and two hundred and sixty millions more to take
care of the criminals all in one year. That is three links
in the chain I have said nothing about poverty. There are
four hundred and forty-five millions that you have spent
in one year, and the revenue from whisky in that time was
four hundred millions, so you are forty-five millions out
of pocket. Looks like bad financering to me if nothing
more. I cannot understand you ; I have given it up. I have
tried to find out what you did with that money. I have
asked mayors and councilmen, "What do you do with the
money that comes from the liquor traffic," and about seven
times out of eight the first use they make of it is "pave-
ments !" Do you get that? This United States of America
must have "pavements !" We women would rather walk
in mud up to our necks than walk over "pavements" builded
with the souls of our sons. (Applause.) This United States
of America must have "pavements," for it cannot exist
without "pavements." Let me speak for my sister women.
We will go out into the streets and build pavements with
our own hands if you will close the saloons and save to us
our boys. (Applause.) But you must have "pavements,"

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even though they are built across the lost souls of our
children.

We have done the best we could. We hold our Better
Baby contests, our race degeneracy conventions, we have
medical inspection in public schools, and you helped us to
get an anti-child labor law, and here in Indiana, strong,
splendid, intelligent Indiana, you have made it impossible
for the defective to multiply his kind, and already we are
asking for a clean bill of health for every man who
approaches the marriage altar, but you are making more
degenerates in the saloons in one day than we can correct
in six months. It is treating symptoms : it is not doing any
good. You cannot correct degeneracy. My profession has
discovered long ago that aside from the little help that
comes from the gold cure, fhere actually is no remedy, no
way of wiping out the effect of the licensed saloon, no
antidote save one, and that is the blood of our Lord Jesus
Christ. It takes a miracle to undo the mischief the saloon
has wrought in the father, or in the child of a drinking
father.

Let me plead with you once more. Give us Nation-wide
prohibition. I took a baby from his mother's arms at a
meeting the other day, and I held him in my arms while I
pleaded for the thing that would save him. Look at the
little baby, he cannot stand by himself, the most helpless
creature in the world, he has no language but a cry. Can
you not hear the baby crying its protest against the thing
that is converting his father into a drunkard?

Can you not hear the mother crying her protest against
the thing that is destroying her home? Can you not hear
our great Leader calling down from the throne of God,
calling you to help Him in the business of saving souls?

I feel as I often do ready to sit down, but that as the
boys say, I have not yet "put it over," for I believe if I
could put out of my heart into yours the feeling of shame,

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the keen pain that has come to the motherhood of this
land, caused by this nefarious traffic in alcohol, I believe
you would do something. There are enough people in this
room right now to make Indiana absolutely dry. Can you
not hear the motherhood of this land pleading with you?
Indiana has given some wonderful sons to the old flag, but
you could give more, more ; more great men, if only you
would protect your boys, if only you would protect this
woman business of man-raising, or if you would even get
out of the way we could do it better than we do now.
(Applause.)

Down in Doctor Landrith's country is a wonderful moun-
tain that protects a little valley, and in that valley is a little
house made famous by Charles Egbert Craddock in her
story, "The Star in the Valley." In that house lived a
mother with her little boy. She was beginning to look for-
ward to the time when her man-child would be her sup-
port, when she would be protected by him. But that boy
heard, as every boy does, the call of the world and he
answered it. He said, "I must go." He had the love for
adventure that comes to all boys, he heard the call of the
world, and he answered it. Going down the little gravel
path she followed him, begging him to stay, for she felt he
was safe in that little home, but he pulled away and was
gone. She called after him, "If you must go, know that
mother will keep a light burning in the window so that
when you come home you cannot miss your way." Oh, the
mothers who are keeping lights burning tonight in the
windows, that some boy may find his way home ! She
called again, "If you must go, and mother should die before
you come home, then mother will stay at the great gate of
Heaven and prop it open so that when you come you can
not miss your way."

Out there in the cold, wide world this boy became bound
by the shackles of sin; the years go by, more shame and

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sin, a man lost to the world. Down there his mother
waited and prayed as she waited, that her boy might come,
and the light burns. Then God called her to come and
sit at the great gate of Heaven. There are mothers up
there tonight who have boys down here who are lost
because of the licensed saloon. Neighboring hands did what
they could, and kept that light burning, waiting for that
boy to come. Are you keeping a light burning for some
other mother's son?

One day there came a tap at my hotel door, and one of
the guides said there was a man down on the mountainside
who would not talk, and they were afraid he was dead.
I went with him and we found he was not dead, so we lifted
him up and laid him on the bed in that little house called
"The Star in the Valley." After a little he came to, seemed
to realize where he was, managed to get out of bed and to
the window where the light was kept burning, crying, "Oh
God, let me in !" Then his arms relaxed, and the body we
picked up from the floor was very quiet and growing cold.
We put him back upon the bed, said a prayer over him,
and you and I, who believe in the blessed Son of God,
believe that the mother's prayer was answered and that
that sin-cursed soul wandered through the gates and is at
home tonight. But I wish my America could see tonight
what was lost all the years of that wasted life ! the man !
the home ! I wish my America could see away down the
pathway of Time nineteen hundred years, and see the Baby
born in a stable, lying against the great heart of Mother
Mary, the holy example of blessed motherhood; see Him
growing up there in Galilee, follow Him to Calvary, and
think of Him at the door of Heaven, propping it open that
the boys of my America might not lose their way. And
think once more, see the shadow of the American saloon
falling athwart that light from Calvary, and in the dark-
ness of that shadow the American boys are lost eternally.

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SPEECHES OF THE FLYING SQUADRON

Men, Oh, men of my America, you have voted to license
the traffic in rum and you are defeating our business, bring-
ing the mother's gray hair in sorrow to the grave, and
destroying the American home!

And you are doing more than that, you are defeating the
flag, for which we need men to fight tonight. We need
men, I say, not junk ! You are cheating the American flag,
and you are cheating America's God, for Jesus of Nazareth
poured out His blessed blood on Calvary that your boys
might have life eternal, and you grind them through the
saloon into eternal death. What will you say when the
roll is called up yonder?

I thank you for your attention. (Applause.)



[420]



The Flight of the
Flying Squadron .

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The Story of a Great Campaign



1500 meetings! 3500 addresses!
1,500,000 people! 65,000 miles!
Rich in incident. Alive with
human interest. A powerful plea
for the abolition of the liquor
traffic

By GOVERNOR J. FRANK HANLY and
OLIVER WAYNE STEWART



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Online LibraryJ. Frank (James Frank) HanlySpeeches of the Flying squadron → online text (page 26 of 27)