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Chapter Twenty Four
Retribution
Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, October 23, 1915
12:18 PM
“I am woman, hear me roar…”
Untold thousands of women from cities and towns and villages; anywhere two or more women might safely congratulate to march in time-step with the twenty-five thousand Women March in New York City to ratification of the 19th amendment, giving ‘all’ American women the right to vote, as...
“In numbers too big to ignore.”
Prodded forward from those behind
“And I know too much to go back an’ pretend...”
Her mind not accepting…
“ ‘Cause I’ve heard it all before…”
Agie’s mind not accepting — Never! Never in the twenty-seven years of her life had Agnes Longstead, AKA Agnes Pink ever struck another human-being in anger.
“And I’ve been down there on the floor...”
Never! But now...
A sharp, throbbing pain in Agie Pink’s right wrist and hand the only physical testament to what had transpired but a number of seconds earlier, a number of steps earlier along with the fleeting scene of an exceedingly amount of blood flowing from the smashed face of a vile appearing man — smashed nose broken in two places, bleeding hole within his mouth where two front teeth had been knocked out along with a, possibly, broken jaw. Eyes vacantly open, legs widely spread unconsciously sitting upright within the spreading contents of a spilt pail… A wisp of the foul scent remaining within Agie’s nostrils.
Prodded forward from those behind. The flash of that vile creatures dripping whip like towel snaking about that poor woman’s face, then the snap of her head and lose of her hat when it violently retracted…
Me next!
Years of accepting American woman’s ‘second class’, so called, citizenship.
“No one’s ever gonna keep me down again.”
Three years of day after day ostracism by her fellow employees at National City Bank; of having doors slammed in her face. Agnes Longstead’s subdued revenge: Knowing more; being smarter; working harder; being promoted from teller window number eight to teller widow number three as the offensive men, despising her all the more, stayed pretty much as they always had.
That stinking, wet towel! Me Next! No-No!
Did I do that? Did I kill that man? Dazedly marching within the crowd of women, thoughts permeating her mind… ‘Yes’....saying to Agie, ‘‘Yes’ you did do that! Unwilling to accept that she may have killed that man... He was siting up, with open eyes!
Past inequities within the mind of Agnes Pink commingling with Hugo McFeeney’ criminally obnoxious plan to disrupt the Woman's March hurting as many as his foul towel might reach coming forth as...
“No one’s ever gonna keep me down again”
Muttering, “Don’t care if I killed the bastard!” The pain of a sprained wrist working upward into her forearm, along with two broken knuckles not near enough pain though— so far— to cover Agnes Longsteads AKA Agie Pinks long held urge for monumental retribution.
Possibly muttering not ‘only’ to herself, as Agie’ alongside suffragist—looking straightly forward, speaking without turning her head in a sweetly modulated voice…
“I saw what that bastard was doing and hope you did kill the fucker!”
12:38 PM
Thirty-eight minutes into the woman’s march, at the speed the fifteen hundred were marching, We should be ending about now.’ Agie hopefully thought as the pain had become a pulsing agony. Having no intention of taking time enough to locate Mazie or any of the other eighteen women, intently anxious to get to the motorcar and to Doc Lenin’s office back in Loveland to have her hand looked at… The crank? She thought, How am I ever going to do it?
Loveland, Ohio
Saturday, October 23, 1915
8:36 PM
Covering two broken knuckles and a badly sprained wrist, white bandaging tightly entwined between the webs of four fingers, her entire hand and onto and around her wrist forming what Doc Lenin called a ‘soft cast’.
Earlier in the day, Mazie had stopped by on her way to Summer Springs inquiring about Agnes’ quick, wordless departure.
Her right arm held out of sight below the counter, “Felt nauseous…” she had said “...and just wanted to get home.” Asking if she might be pregnant, and receiving a resounding, ‘No!’. Mazie departed Pink’s in Elmer’s grocery delivery motorcar to putt the mile and a half to ‘’Mazie’s Eats’’.
Knowing who would be calling at this time, she had been waiting at the counter… “Auntie, hello!”
“Hi, sweetheart.” Motioning at some stacked dishes, signaling for Mrs Baily to put them away. “How did it go today? How are you?”
Not sure how much she was going to admit as there had been no word about someone being murdered at the march. “No, Auntie, you first.”
“You know we all thought that the reason the committee had picked late in October was because we’d be into our Indian Summer. But other than a brilliant sky, it was cold and windy and we all had to hang onto our hats no matter how many pins we had holding them, and we had… Agnes, no one is really sure, but women I talked to thought there had to be many many more than twenty-five thousand of us, because tens of thousands of us packed Fifth Avenue for almost five miles all marching on foot, all but— can you believe, shutting down the entire city.
There were old women with canes and young women pushing baby buggies, and many… hundreds of banners saying things like ‘A vote for suffrage is A vote for Justice’, and, ‘You trust us with children; trust us with the vote’.” Bertha’s voice excitedly rising. “Line after line of suffragists marched up the avenue, holding hands, covered with garlands of flowers hoisting those huge signs.” Catching her breath. “There were even small groups of women carrying ballot boxes on stretchers.”
“The people there, watching, Auntie? How were they acting? With the suffragists? Against the suffragists? Any violence?”
“There was so much noise there, Agnes. Seemed like there were as many people watching as us marching and yelling, and I couldn’t tell if the people on the sidewalks were for us or against us… ‘violence’? If there was, I hadn’t seen or heard of any and the entire New York Police force seemed to be on the lookout for trouble. What about you? How was it in Cincinitti?”
Still not sure about how much to say. “As it turned out, there were about fifteen hundred suffragists including us, I guess, and the weather here wasn’t bad. Whole thing took about forty minutes from start to finish.” Sounding so weak in comparison, words coming freely, without thought. “Did have a bit of a problem, though.”
“A disgruntled husband, no doubt.”
“ ‘A disgruntled husband’ doesn’t even begin to cover what that son-of a-bitch did! At least until he came to me, Auntie, because I smashed his face so badly; positive I broke the bastard’s nose and knocked out a couple of his teeth…” taking a breath “..and don’t even care if I killed the bastard.”
Not sure whether she was shocked over her nieces language of that she had actually struck another person. “‘You hit somebody? You hit someone hard enough to break his nose?”
Having the need to tell someone, and who better than her Aunt Bertha that knew of her nieces male caused frustration during her three year employment at National City Bank, and now Agnes’ longingly restrained, well deserved retribution to a man, and especially to this filthy, vile creature.
Calm now. “I did, Auntie, and don’t care that I did… Matter’s of fact, I’m proud I did!”
Proud of her niece also: Having the gumption and physical strength to hit a man that Bertha had not the slightest doubt well deserved it.
“Knowing you, sweetheart, surprised as I am, I’m sure you had good reason to do what you did. Only thing, watch your language.”
Sunday, October 24,1915 — The New York Times wrote the day after the parade: “In golden sunlight and keen air the great parade went its triumphal way. Onlookers cheered endless rows of demure women in black dresses. There was even a breastfeeding mother in the marching lines, a woman of the finest motherly type” who was cheered by onlookers along the entire route.
Monday, October 24,1915— The Cincinnati Gazette wrote two days after the Woman’s March: On a beautiful Indian summer day, nearly two thousand Cincinnati and nearby communities Suffragists staged their forty-five minute march in conjunction with the [estimated] fifty thousand Suffragists Fifth Avenue March that closed New York city streets to all traffic in quest for the ratification of the 19th amendment, giving ‘all’ women the right to vote.
As a side issue — the Cincinnati Gazette continuing — Hugo McFeeney, a known strong-arm hoodlum and thief with three armed robbery ‘wants,’ had been discovered by CPD in an unconscious state sitting in a puddle of warm beer and bodily fluid looking as though having gone through five rounds with Jack Dempsey. Transported to Cincinnati General Hospital in handcuffs, upon recuperation Mister McFeeney’s next stop will be the Ohio State Prison. — further adding — The parade moving at march speed, to our Suffragist that landed the one, jaw breaking punch that brought this thug to the street, “Thank you!”
Reading this, Agie Pink moved her bandaged arm from beneath the counter, proudly placing it atop the counter.
Notation: The New York parade appeared to be a success, but was actually an extremely nervous event. Women didn’t yet have the ability to vote nationally, even though 13 states had already enfranchised women—This was the high-profile chance suffragists had been waiting for as by this point, suffragists were tired of being portrayed as fire-starting militants and misguided housewives. This parade was their chance to showcase their beauty and appeal, and they gather delegates labour unions and suffrage groups from from New York to Cincinitti, Ohio, and around the world.
About the time of the Woman’s March in 1915
With the beginning of trench warfare on the Western Front, both sides began assessing their options for bringing the war to a successful conclusion. Overseeing German operations, the Chief of the General Staff preferred to focus on winning the war on the Western Front as he believed that a separate peace could be obtained with Russia if they were allowed to exit the conflict with some pride.
Loveland, Ohio
November 5, 1915
Due to Morrie’s engineering and architectural ability, taking months longer than originally projected by redoing much of the existing structure; by adding one more bedroom and an additional — what he termed a ‘bathroom’ by adding, besides a fully operational emptying toilet, and a hot and cold running water sink and a full sized bathtub — all of which eventually became a prototype and selling point for Loveland’s future residential construction.
Cash not a problem as ‘Pink’s Hardware’ had not a day when minimally one hundred dollars was carried by Agie to Loveland National Bank for deposit.
Business so brisk that seventeen year old Lester Harris had been hired as a full time employee.
Agie and Morrie Pink moved from their rear store apartment — which, other than the scant kitchen, they had found perfectly livable— to their new home at 575 Placid Street on November 27, 1915.
I Am Woman © Helen Ready May 1971
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272
Chapter Twenty Five
Oysters & Jazz
