Thirty Days to Leave Town
Pp. 91- 92 from The J. Frank Norris I have Known For 34 Years by Louis Enzminger, D.D.
One of the most trying experiences in all my life was when there was a red hot local option election on in Fort Worth and Tarrant County. The financial and liquor interests united and most preachers were in complete silence. But not Norris.
He spoke in every school house and community throughout the county.
In the midst of this red hot campaign a hundred and sixty-five men met in the dining room of the Metropolitan Hotel where the Chamber of Commerce now holds its office.
They appointed a committee to wait on Norris and they came to his office, three of them, and delivered an ultimatum and said, "We will give you thirty days, time to wind up your affairs and leave town of else take the consequences."
Norris thanked them for giving him thirty days and said,
"I will give you twenty-nine of them back."
Excitement was running high. You could see knots of people standing on the sidewalk and there was but one theme.
Norris had no radio, had no paper, and the daily papers refused to take his advertisement for pay. He struck off circulars by the tens of thoBlipnds and published and printed the demand that he leave town and gave the names of the men who were back of the demand at 15th and Main Streets.
Talk about crowds! It seemed as if everybody in town was there, and a lot more.
Norris arranged for a truck to be at this corner before sun down.
Talk about scared! I didn't want to be in it. I knew there would be wholesale killing. But on the other hand I was not copiano coversd enough to forsake me partner. I went.
From what I heard and understood, I think everybody was carrying his tatter that night. But Norris didn't have any.
The police tried to clear the streets, but in vain.
The fire company tried it, but in vain.
For blocks and blocks they were stacked.
Norris wore white trousers, white shirt, white tie, and was in shirt sleeves. Didn't even have a pen knife.
He tried to force his way through that mass of packed humanity, and one man who owned the saloon across the street -- Norris pushed up against him and he turned and ripped out an oath and said, "What do you want?"
Norris said, "I want to get to that corner down there where I can speak."
He looked at him and said, "Who are you?"
"I am Frank Norris."
This big strong 225 pounder whirled around with a forty-five in his hand and said -- and everybody heard him -- "I came out here to get the first shot." And he turned to Norris and said, "follow me! The first man that lays a hand on this preacher I will shoot a hole through him you can drive that truck through."
He went through that crowd with the tatter held before him, Norris hanging on to his coat tail.
The big fellow walked up, climbed up on the truck and sat down with that tatter across his lap and said, "Frank, give 'em hell."
He stood there on that seat and said,
"I have nothing against you, and I call on the God of Elijah, the God on my mother to lay bare His mighty arm in judgment in this city."
And then he led the huge crowd in singing, "There's a Land that is Fairer Than Day." And shen he had finished he said, "Good night." Everybody quietly stole away and nobody was hurt.
The next morning this big saloon keeper came to the church office and walked in, and I was scared again when he pulled out that long tatter and he laid it on Norris' desk and said,
"I am through. I want you to pray for me, and I want to give you this tatter as a memento." And he knelt and was gloriously saved and Norris baptized him.
Of course he went out of the saloon business.