The Mob and Me

This has been a dreadful week. Doubly so for me as it brought back frightening memories. In 1963 my husband I were at the center of the infamous Garnett Race Riots. Race in this case does not indicate people of color. Race referring to car races as in the Grand Prix.

Don was the Undersheriff in Anderson County Kansas. I was the jail matron. We had a two year old daughter. Our residence was in the center of the town which was built on a square. It was a multi-story brick building. The jail was on the top floor.

Garnett was a small town of about 5,000 people. I don't know when the races started. The peak attendance for this event was estimated at 75,000 people. The 2.8-mile road course at Lake Garnett brought in cars from all of the major automakers including Ferrari, Maserati, Shelby, Chevrolet and Austin-Healey. A Cobra won that year.

That night all hell brought loose. About 3000 young people descended on the town square. The crowd grew rowdy. There was drunken lewd behavior. Scary stuff going on. The chief of police decided to close the beer joints. The group was outraged. There were arrests. The arrests triggered further violence with cries of freedom and a vow to spring the victims. They decided to take the jail.

The jail was my happy home, remember. Luckily our two-year-old daughter was at my parents house that night. The mob was attacked with fire hoses and as much police force as our tiny little burg could muster. Throughout the night law enforcement came from all over the state. The governor called out the national guard.

My shotgun was propped up against my daughters toy chest. There were shotguns and rifles and police in every room of my house. I, and my sister-in-law, made sandwiches and coffee all night long. A policeman died. Over fifty persons were injured. These were mostly hell-raising college students who were intoxicated with both booze and the thrill of the car races. But what sticks in my mind to this day were the cries of "take the jail. Take the jail."

The races were discontinued the next year.

I don't participate in marches, even though I believe in peaceful protests. I believed in the effectiveness of the Black Lives Matter march. Also the Me Too movement. But marches can quickly turn into something else. They grow out of control. You can't tell who you will be marching next to. Marches can turn into mobs.

I was horrified and sickened by last weeks events. This was far from a peaceful protest. I cried all day.

Even as I write this my hands are shaking. My heart ached for those frightened members of congress. There are still those voices in my mind. "Take the jail, take the jail."