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Chapter Twenty Three

The Woman’s March

Loveland, Ohio

Thursday: 5/13/15

10: 22 AM

A green colored Ford panel truck stopping at the curb. “ ‘Morning!.” The possibly seventeen year old boy in a green coverall ‘Cincinitti Warehouse’ uniform asked:. “Pink’s Hardware?”

“We are.” Morrie said.

“ I’ve a delivery for you.”

“ ‘Morning. You’ve been here before?” Agie asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. Twice.”

“So you know where it all goes.”

“Yes, Sir. Shed in the back.”

“Alright.” Lifting the ring of keys from the counter. “I’ll meet you there.”

11:19 AM

Helping the young man unload the truck, tipping him a quarter before he left, Morrie stood within the doorway of the strongly made — near filled with twenty-five pound burlap sacks of assorted sized nails, bolts, nuts and various small tools, all stacked, floor to near ceiling within the wooden storage shed alongside their back-store apartments indoor outhouse, awaiting the arrival of the ‘Buffalo Hammer and Tool Company Inventory Control’ man whom Agie and Morrie planed on assisting in order to, well, to assist and in so doing begin their ‘literal’ nuts and bolts hardware store education…

Friday: 5/14/15

11:15 AM

Although there was so much, too much to remember so both Agie and Morrie had thought’ they — as they had originally planned — would learn a hardware stores, so to speak, ‘nuts and bolts education by learning as they go.’

Thursday 5/20/15

9:42 AM

A dark-green, Railway Delivery truck stopping before ‘Pinks Hardware’ store as noted by the artistically, newly painted dark pink sign hung above the store’s entrance.

Working a wooden crate from the rear of the truck and carefully placing it on a dolly … “Delivery from Dayton…” the delivery-man said sliding the crate from the dolly onto the floor before the counter with the slotted cash partitioned drawer as, removing a five inch wide pad from his rear pocket, placing it between Morrie and Agie. “Need someone…” fully expecting the man to sign “...to sign all three copies showing you’ve received it.”

Leaning over the counter, reading the pasted label: ‘National Cash Register, Co., Dayton, Ohio’; Agie anxiously signed the pads top sheet. “And this one’s for Railway Express.” Waiting as Agie signed the second sheet. “This is yours.” Not waiting for a signature, carefully tearing the third sheet from the pad, handing it to the woman on the other side of the counter, and with a mere, “Thank’s,” left ‘Pinks Hardware store.

Using the clawed end of a hammer, pulling the nails off the wooden slats holding the crate together, Morrie and Agie, as it was too bulky and heavy for one person, lifted it onto the counter.

In 1911, after graduating her third year NYC Bookkeeping and Accounting class’ at the head of her ‘all male’ class, Agnes Longstead had received the request for an interview with prestigious, forward thinking ‘National City Bank’ having the inclination of hiring a woman for a new Tellers position.

Upon meeting Agnes, Mister Adam Hotchkins, the Branch Manger — the same Mister Adam Hotchkins that eight days earlier, on Wednesday May 5, had told Agnes Longstead that: ‘I want to tell you, I’ve never been sorry that I hired you. In truth, you are this banks ‘worthiest’ employee’— Liking her ‘middle of the road feminine appearance’, her extremely friendly personality and, of course, in his opinion, for a woman her superior intelligence, Hotchkins had hired Agnes on the spot.

From April eleven, nineteen-twelve; from her first day in Tellers booth number eight— The booth reserved for newcomers to National City Bank… A both Agnes did not remain in for very long as, much to the chagrin of the male Tellers, the young woman’s subdued beauty, wit and intelligence quickly moved her along the line, ending at booth three.

From her first day at National City Bank in 1912, at Agnes’s right elbow had been a 1910, ‘model C’, National Cash Register that— as a soldier in the field was able to dissemble clean and reassemble his pistol or rifle in the dark, so too could could the female Teller in booth number three.

But this, 1914, near twenty-four inches in length from rotating base to dome, near sixty pounds in weight shiny brass National Cash Register, ‘model A’ machine was something else again.

“Morrie, you order this on purpose? You knew what you were buying?”

“Yes.” Watching… noting the look on Agie’s face. “Why? You don’t like it?”


“ ‘Like it’! Morrie, don’t think I have any idea how to use it…” turning to her husband, kissing him “... but I’ll learn and I ‘love’ it, honey. Thank you!”

Wednesday 5/26/15

1:58 PM

“Pink’s Hardware, good afternoon.”

“Hi, sweetheart. Hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

“No! Not at all Aunt Berth, there’s no one in the place but Morris and me and he’s in the back somewhere in the …” giggling “...nut department.”

“How’s everything going? You learning the hardware business?”

“Aunt Bertha, you can’t even imagine! You ever think there’s twelve different sizes of nails, and what each kind is used for? And don’t even ask about nuts and bolts, but at least the nails all come separated in twenty-five pound sacks for each kind, but the nuts and bolts come all jumbled together so we have to figure what size nut goes with what size bolt; really keeps Morris and me busy.”

“Sounds like a lot of hard work, sweetheart.”

“It is, you know, but I love it! Don’t think I told you, but the store and our bank accounts are in both, Morris’ and my names, and knowing it’s mine also, makes every thing, all the hard work enjoyable…"

“Also, Auntie, would you believe, from all the carrying and dragging those twenty-five pound sacks from the outside shed to where they’re supposed to go is giving me muscles…” no one close enough to see, Agie flexed her right arm reveling the slim bulge of a growing bicep t “... and I love it.”

Quietly entering. “Excuse me.” The woman said.

“Hold on, Auntie.”

“Afternoon…” she said to the customer “... can I help you?”

“Yes. I need a new ironing board. You carry ironing boards?”

“Yes. Yes we do. Would you like me to bring one to you?”

“No. Not sure what kind I want. Just point me in the right direction, please.”

Pointing midway and to the right. “We’ve all three brands along the wall there.”

“Thank you…” the lady said, starting towards Agie’s pointed direction.”

“So, Auntie…” back with Bertha “... you got people there?”

“No, just a couple stopping on their way to Pittsburgh and a salesman. Since the war, you know all cruise business had dried up and sailors aboard ship have been ordered to quarter aboard ship.

“Yeah, I guess. Who’d want to be aboard another cruise ship sunk by a Nazi ‘U-boat?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

Ironing board in hand, “I’ll take this one.” The customer said.

“ Hold on Auntie.”

Tag on the folded iron support said… “That’ll be fifty-five cents.” Agie said.

Taking the two quarters and nickel from the lady, tapping the ‘change’ button on the register, the top drawer sprung open with an audible ‘ping’.

Glancing at the kitchen clock. Guess it’s time for me to get dinner started.”

With but three guests, “Is Mrs Baily still helping you, Auntie?” Agie asked.

“No. I told her to keep the money your Morris gave her, and that we’ll apply it when things get better when I’ll need her again.”

“Glad to know she’s there to help when things pick up for you.”

“Me, too.” Bertha’s eyes touching on the clock again. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Friday June 23, 1915

Summer Springs, Ohio

7:22 PM

Their new home still under construction and as the kitchen facility in their back-store apartment was extremely cramped; becoming their habit upon the daily closing of ‘Pink’s’, Agie and Morrie’, on this night joined by both Mazie and, closing the grocery, her husband, ‘Elmer.’.

Dawdling over coffee and pecan rolls fresh from Mazie’s oven, the conversation once again touching on the Suffragette march in New York City in October.

Her self-assigned, and fully accepted leadership in the slowly expanding groups assembly of women willing, or allowed to join the march. “We’ve three more, you know.” Mazie said.

The group of committed women now expanded to nineteen coming from the Loveland, Summer Springs area; the only requirement — as this local undertaking is to consist of women ‘only’ — if there is a husband, or a man that might in the future be a husband, even if the man is not a believer in the ratification of the 19th amendment to the U.S. Constitution, there must be a guarantee that woman will, in no way be physically coaxed or harmed in her need to be a part of America’s right to allow women the vote.


Notation: On October 23, 1915, in effort to ratify the 19th amendment, over 25,000 women marched up Fifth Avenue in New York City to advocate for women’s suffrage. At that point, the fight had been ongoing for more than 65 years, with the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848 first passing a resolution in favor of women’s suffrage.

Beginning in the 1800s, women organized, petitioned, and picketed to win the right to vote, but it took them decades to accomplish their purpose. Between 1878, when the amendment was first introduced in Congress, and August 18, 1920, when it was ratified, champions of voting rights for women worked tirelessly, but strategies for achieving their goal varied. Some pursued a strategy of passing suffrage acts in each state—nine western states adopted woman suffrage legislation by 1912. Others challenged male-only voting laws in the courts. Some suffragists used more confrontational tactics such as picketing, silent vigils, and hunger strikes. Often supporters met fierce resistance. Opponents heckled, jailed, and sometimes physically abused them.

Summer Springs, Ohio

7:30 PM

“These three new women…” Morrie asked “...are allowed to drive?”

“No, only one.” Breaking a piece of off the pecan bun. “The other says she’ll work on her husband to teach her, and the third says he says, he will not! Unfortunately…” Mazie said, brushing her husband's cheek with her sticky fingers “...not all husbands are as understanding and sweet as you and Morris.” Shooting a dark look at the man on the other side of the table.

“Okay!” Catching the withering look. “Okay, already. Tomorrow…” looking at Agie “..when things slow down, I’ll take you out…”

Drinking the last of her coffee. “Don’t need to ‘take me out’!” Placing the cup onto the before her. “ I know how to!”

“You think you can drive the Chevie without some personal instruction, without me showing you how?”

“Morris…” squeezing his chin between thumb and forefinger “...you don’t think I got eyes? You don’t think I watch whenever we get into that thing?” Shaking his chin. “I know how to make it go, and to stop. Only you never told me to do it, so…” sarcastically “...being the good, obedient wife I am, I never did.”

”So…” none too genteelly moving her fingers from his chin “...like I said, tomorrow…” in a mildly angry tone “... I’ll crank it up and see what you know.”

“Don’t have to…” mildly angry also “...I can do my own cranking, Morris! Who do you think helps carry those sacks of product to their bins? I’ can do my own cranking, if you don’t mind.”

Sitting to Agie’s right, “Really!” squeezing her upper right arm, noting a firmness he hadn’t noticed before.

Saturday, June 24, 1915

6:15 PM

Taking the crank from it’s lodging behind the drivers seat, sitting primly on the passenger seat. “Okay, ‘Miss Smarty-pants’.” Handing the crank through the open window. “Take me to dinner!”

Going forward. “I’ll do that mister ‘know it all’!”! Placing the crank into the motor block receptacle, Agie rotated the steel crank handle once… then harder once again with no starting ‘chug’ from the motor.

Stepping from the motorcar. “Hold on, I’ll…”

Intent on doing this. “Don’t you ‘dare’!” Agie said firmly. “You just keep your ass right there, mister!”

Laughing at the ‘ass’ word. “Okay…” sitting again “I’m keeping my ass right here.”

Standing dead forward of the vehicle, spreading her legs for balance, tightening both hands onto the handle, Agie gave the crank a hard rotation to the right... and was rewarded with an automotive, ‘chug;.

6:32 PM

“You’re doing great, honey.” Actually driving for the first time, following her husbands gentle urging. “Careful now, steer a bit to the left.” Agie drove the entire mile and a half to ‘Maize's Eats’.

Thursday, October 21 1915

8:46 PM

The ringing frightening them. “Who’d be calling this late?” Throwing a bathrobe over her shoulders, rushing from their back-store apartment through the vacant store, lifting the telephone receiver off the cradle on it’s fourth ring. Breathlessly: “Pink’s!”

“It’s me, sweetheart.”

Aunt Bertha…” worried “...what’s wrong?”

“Sorry for calling so late. Nothing’s wrong. But I wanted talk to you about Saturday, but we’ve… Mrs Baily and I have been working near non-stop the last couple of days with all the suffragists in town for our march and we’ve just finished cleaning up for the day.”

“No-no, it’s okay auntie…” whispering as Morrie came up. “It’s my aunt.”

Concerned...“Everything all right?”

“Yes. She’s been very busy with women staying at her place coming to town for the march.”

Heading back to their apartment. “Say hello for me.”

“Morris says ‘Hello’, auntie.”

“Tell him hello back.”

“He’s gone back, so I’ll tell him later. You and your ladies going together?”

“Yes. Including Mrs Baily, there’ll be twenty eight of us. It’s scheduled to begin at noon and seeing as we’re just blocks from Fifth Avenue, we’re going to walk there at about eleven or so. How’s it going with you.”

“We’ve twenty women from our area with five motorcars, so we’re going to a bit cramped, but the Cincinitti march… There’s supposed to be five or six hundred women there and we’re going to start our march along with your people in New York at twelve, so we’ll be driving the sixteen miles between here and Cincinitti, leaving at nine-thirty or so.”

“Always thought we’’d be going to march together, so I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Me, too, Auntie.”

Cincinnati, Ohio

Friday, October 22, 1915

9:22 PM

For the third time, ‘Hugo McFeeney’, a slovenly thug, elbowed a man standing at the crowded bar. “Ya wanna contribute…” sloshing the quart or so of warm beer in the metal pail held in his dirty hand “...what’s left in that there mug’a yours for the bitches parade.”

A known penny-anti thief and bully that most of this taverns patrons knew, and did their best to avoid. “Okay, yeah sure.” the man said pouring the last of his beer into the pail.

Moving further along the line of men standing before this shabby, old neighborhood tavern’s bar. “Well, ain’t it just lucky I come across my old pal, Cootie.” Kicking ‘kodie Manns’ foot from the brass rail, causing the smaller man to jar the man to his right, who shoved him back towards Hugo whim, grabbing the freshly poured mug on the bar before Kodie, Hugo drank a mouth-full then poured the rest into the pail.

“You...” thinking the man alongside that had shoved Kodie was of no threat to him “...wanna …” jerking his thumb in the direction of the man’s mug “... contribute to the cunts parade tomorrow!”

Not all that anxious to give up this fresh mug of beer that he’d paid for, but also not to anxious to tangle with this thug. “Why…” the man asked “...you gonna douse one’a them old bitches with that pail’a warm beer?”

“Nah…” Hugo McFeeney said, sloshing the contents of the pail “...this here’s me ammunition. ‘So’?”

Catching the thugs meaning, chugging half, he reluctantly poured the rest into the pail.

Realizing there were no others in this place he could safely ‘coax’ for a ‘contribution’, leaving the dreary tavern, crossing the road Hugo McFeeney entered another just as dreary and just as shabby as the first… Forty minutes later— with a bit more than a gallon, along with a snitched bar rag soaking in the bucket; as he had sampled near all of the ‘contributions’, now, not willing to lose a drop of his ‘ammunition’, carefully… as carefully as a drunken thug could stumble, stumbling his way to the wretched hovel Hugo called home. However, before falling onto his urine stained mattress, taking a double slug cheap bourbon from the pint bottle he taken from a passed-out bum, Hugo’s benumbed mind passed into a drunken slumber.

Cincinnati, Ohio

Saturday, October 23, 1915

12:14 PM

The five female only driven automobiles driving the sixteen miles in caravan with a mid-way petrol stop at Kimdle’s Garage — The twenty black dressed women of Loveland and Summer Springs, marching along with the, ‘amazing’ fifteen hundred women of the wide-spread Cincinnati area, and spiritually falling into line with the fifty thousand women in New York City along with additional thousands of women from hundreds of cities throughout the United States of America to force the issue of the female vote into the consciousness of America at large.

A huge mass of black dressed women before them awaiting the New York start time of1 12:00 PM.

Arriving at the starting point on Western Avenue, actually route 79 at 11:27, the Loveland/Summer Springs twenty— with instructions to regroup at the motorcars if they should become separated— joined what appeared to be the far end of the march, however within minutes they were no longer at the far end as there came a constant stream of women falling in lime behind Agie and Maize's group which immediately caused total individual separation.

As twenty foot wide Western Avenue ran north and south, the, now better than fifteen hundred women somehow aligning themselves forward and back, from side to side— as though a military parade— walking in near cadence with those before and those alongside.

In serious silence, but for the cheers and jeers— of those crowding the eastern or western sidewalk curbed pavement— naught was to be heard but the heeled clacking and shuffling of thirty thousand feet.

12:12 PM

Possibly now within the rear portion of first seventy percent of those on this march, having no idea where any of her group were, Agie Pink walked on the eastern, far right end of this amazingly straight line of eight women.

At 11:09 AM

Over-sleeping. Pulling himself from the mattress, Hugo, having passed out fully dressed the night before— knowing it would take at least an hour to get to Western Avenue, found no need to take the time to change clothing now, but on this late morning, after all the beer he’d been able to strong-arm last night, having a dire need to urinate, but also not wanting to take time to run to the outhouse, Hugo thought of the half filled bucket of warm beer with the hanging bar towel he’d left at the doorway. Not much of a forward thinking thug, thinking, What the hell! Watched the creation of those beautiful yellow bubbles his stream of his urine created in the warm, flat beer.

12:14 PM

Unaware that there would be all these bitches, seventy percent of the march having passed, Hugo shoved his way— in reality, the ongoing crowd of people watching the Woman’s March from along the sidewalk did not need much shoving to move from the bodily stink of this noticeable thug giving Hugo McFeeney, and the stench from whatever he carried in the steel bucket a front row position along the curb.

12:16 PM

Three lines of marching suffragists behind, looking to her right, Agie Pink noticed a filthy appearing man pull what looked like a kitchen towel from a bucket at his feet, quickly wring it out and, bringing his right arm up and— all within two seconds, snapped it forward as a suffragist came abreast wrapping the stinking urine and stale beer soaked bar-rag about the ladies face, then pull it back snapping her head to the side, causing the woman’s hat, held by five hat pins, to fall from her head and hang askew as the woman, wondering about the stink, still unaware of what had happened, prodded from those behind was propelled forward.

12:17 PM

Two lines of marching suffragists to his left, her mind registering but not fully comprehending what she had witnessed; approaching now, directly alongside now, angling her body as — dripping towel held in hand, Hugo McFeeney bringing his right arm up and back… as instructively, within the blink of an eye — Agie Pinks hand clenched in a white knuckled fist, her recently muscled arm pistoning forward smashed dead center in Hugo's face causing an instantaneous deluge of blood coming from a twice broken nose and the raw hole where two front teeth had been, but were no longer there as, the steel pail tipping as, crumpling to the concrete pavement, sitting in it’s obnoxious content, his open eyes crossed in a completely unconscious state, as…

Prodded forward from those behind, Agie Pink became lost in the sea of suffragists.'



“I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an’ pretend
‘Cause I’ve heard it all before
And I’ve been down there on the floor
No one’s ever gonna keep me down again”



I Am Woman © Helen Ready May 1971
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