The Syracuse Journal, Volume 29, Number 39, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 28 January 1937 — Page 4

Page Four

The Syracuse Journal Published Every Thursday at Syfacuse» Indiana. Entered as second-class matter on May 4th, 1908, at the postoffice at Syracuse, Indiana, under the Act of Congress of March 3rd, 1879 SUBSCRIPTION RATES One Year, in advance —— $2.00 Three Years, in advance $5.00 Six Months in advance SI.OO Single Copies Subscriptions Dropped if Not Renewed When Time Is Out SYRACUSE PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC., Publishers F. Allan Weatherholt, Editor THURSDAY, JANUARY 28, 1937 j Journal’s Platform . i — CIVIC ENTERPRISES Better Street Lighting. Beautified City Park on Lake Front. Sewage Disposal System. Public Tennis Courts. Adequate Playground Bathing Beach. ' ' PRIVATE ENTERPRISES Dog Race Track. More Hotel Accomodations. Industrial Plants. Amusement Park. ACCOMPLISHMENTS Re-organized Yacht Club. Grade Crossing Protection. Action on Road 13. Broader Publicity For Lakes.

Northern Indiana— Vacationers Paradise

HOUSANDS of Hoosiers and visitors from other states are discovering anew the vacation of northern Indiana where countless landscape and

rushing streams thread their way amid low hills. Here is a paradise for the fisherman whether his creed be that of the cane pole and can of worms or a fly or casting rod with all the modern gadgets. But it is not the fishing alone that is winning northern Indiana growing popularity as an ideal vacation grounds. It is easily accessia ble with more than two thousand miles of improved state highways in the lake country and offers a solution of an outing place for every member of the family. There are hundreds of hotels, inns, vacation cottages and camping sites welcoming the visitor and offering a range of accommodations from the finest resort hotel to the tent pitched under a sentinel tree. If he travels by plane there are more than twenty approved airports, some of which are on lakes where mooring is available for hydroplanes? Train and bus service link the far cornel's of the state with the lake which he may choose for his outing while the motorits finds a perfect network of modern highways leading him into the heart of Indiana’s vacation country. Three of the principal east-west trunk - lines, U. S. 6, 20 and 30 go through the lake country while U. S. Roads 27 and 31 lead into this section from the north and south.

ONCENTRATED within approximately a third of the state are these hundreds of lakes, ranging in area from a few acres to

several hundred, and other hundreds of miles of choice. Northern Indiana has scores of of streams offering the fisherman an endless trout fishing, equal to that of any other state and it is being improved. In the last two years am extensive survey has been made to discover suitable trout waters and many thousand Brook, Rainbow and Brown trout have been planted for the future sport of the angler. In the lakes the fisherman will"find the black bass, the bluegill, crappie and red-eared sunfish wearing a chip on their shoulder, daring him to match his skill with their ability to shake loose from the hook. If he wants to go after bigger game, there are many lakes in which the wall-eyed pike lurk, ready to play with the first tempting lure that comes within striking distance. 0 Not all the sport for the fisherman is in the trout streams and the lakes. There is the St. Joseph, the Tippecanoe, the Eel, the Maumee, the Wabash, the Salamonie, the Mississinewa and a score of other rivers which give northern Indiana valid claim to the best black bass fishing water of the middle west.

N the lakes and along the streams the | fisherman will find congenial companions with whom he can swap stories of

the big ones that got away and those that didn’t and exchange lore on the peculiarities of fish or engage in the never settled debate on the merits of live bait and the barbed hook. Many of the lakes have connecting channels and if the fishing is too easy on one, it is an easy matter to paddle to another where he will need all his skill and patience to experience that thrill which comes from a jarring strike. An entire vacation could be spent moving from one lake to another if the fisherman enjoys a changing scene and new problems in hooking and landing his fish. Many Hoos.ier sportsmen take to the rivers with their boat and duffle bag, drifting downstream until they strike a likely spot nd choosing their camping site with all the deliberation and finesse of a French voyager. For the outdoorsman such a trip is a never-to-be-forgotten experience, combing the promise of a record catch with the flare of the campfire, and the appetizing tang of fresh fish in the skillet.

3HE Department of Conservation, aided by scores of active conservation clubs throughout northern Indiana, has unjder-

taken a cooperative program designed to add to the attraction of both the lakes and streams tor fishermen. Hundreds of thousands of game fish reared at state hatcheries and by the clubs in their own hatcheries are planted each year in these lakes and streams. This propagation of game fish is being carried on on a more extensive scale this year than ever in the past. If the fisherman is taking his family along,

"A Man's Real Measure" By W. C. Brann T

HE place to take the measure of a man is not in the darkest place or in the amen corner, nor the cornfield, but by

his own fireside. There he lays aside his mask and you may learn whether he is an imp or an angel, cur or king, hero or humbug. I care not what the world says of him: whether it crowns him boss or pelts him with bad eggs. I care not a copper what his reputation or religion may be- if his babies dread his homecoming and his better half swallows her heart every time she has to ask him for a five-dollar bill, he is a fraud of the first water, even though he prays nights and morning until he is black in the face and howls hallelujah until he shakes the eternal hills. But if his children rush to the front door to meet him and love’s sunshine illuminates the face of his wife every time she hears his footfall, you can take it for granted that he is pure, for his home is a heaven — and the humbug never gets thai near the great white throne of God. He may be a rank atheist and reckflag anarchist, a Mormon and a mugwump; he may buy votes-in-blocks of five, and bet on the elections; he may deal ’em from the bottom of the deck and drink beer until he can’t tell a silver dollar from a circular saw, and still be an infinitely better man than the cowardly little humbug who is all suavity in society but who makes a hell, who vents upon the helpless heads of his wife and children an ill nature he would inflict on his fellow men but dares not. I can forgive much in that fellow mortal who would rather make men swear than women weep; who would rather have the hate of the whole world than the contempt of his wife; who would rather call anger to the eyes of a king than fear to the face of a child.

Which Do You Do?

‘E who every morning plans the transactions of the day, and fol- - lows out that plan, carries a thread

that will guide him through the labyrinth of the most busy life. The orderly arrangement of his time is like a ray of light which darts itself through all his occupations.. But"where no plan is laid, where the disposal of time is surrendered merely to the chance of incidents, all things lie huddled together in one chaos, which admits of neither distribution nor review. —Hugo.

his choice of vacation places is equally unlimited. The range of choice is limited only to the type of accommodations desired. Combined with the unexcelled fishing, northern Indiana offers many other healthful, outdoor recreation and sports. There are exceptional bathing beaches where the swimmer will find invigorating water and sandy beaches tempting him into the open! There are all manner of boats from the canoe to the speed boat and the picturesque sail-boat ready to add to his pleasure. There are highways to explore, modern cities where he will find everything that he may desire, and scores of places of interest to visit. There are sporty golf courses challenging his ability, tennis courts and other forms of outdoor sport. Located within this section of the state are seven state-owned properties, at each of which the visitor will find a friendly welcome. Pokagon State Park, located on the shores of Lake James is an ideal vacation outing place covering more than a thousand wooded acres.

CATTERED across the northern part of the state are three of the fish hatcheries from which come thousands of game fish each year for stocking the lakes and

streams. One of these is on Lake Wawasee’ one at Tri-Lakes and a third is at Bass Lake. Over on the western side of northern Indiana are two state game preserves, the Kankakee preserve and the Jasper-Pulaski preserve? The Kankakee preserve, covering approximately 2,300 acres, is a remnant of the Kankakee marsh which was famous in early Indiana history. This area today is a beautiful natural refuge for all species of wild life, safe there from the hunter. The Jasper-Pulaski Game Preserve covers 5,200 acres and is also a haven for all forms of wildlife. It is here that the Department of Conservation operates one of the most modern game farms of the middlewest. Pheasants and quail are artificially propagaeted by the thousands to be liberated in Indiana fields and woodlands. This year a 15-acre rabbit ranch is in operation and another area has been set aside for the propagation of raccoon. On Bass Lake the state operates Bass Lake Beach, a bathing beach which is popular with swimmers. During the spring several tons of predatory and coarse fish were removed from this lake as a part of the program to improve fishing conditions.

IHESE are but a few of the attractions of northern Indiana for the vacationist and the fisherman.

i If you have longed for the ideal place for your vacation outing, dreaming of a place where the fish fought back, where you clothe or “go formal” and there was every facility for every member of the family to enjoy the outing—you have been dreaming of northern Indiana. The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it in turn will look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly, kind companion. —William Makepeace Thackeray. .You cannot believe in honor unless you have achieved it. Better keep yourself clean and bright; you are the window through .which you must see the world. —George Bernard Shaw.

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL

Editorial Os The Week From The News-Democrat, Goshen, Ind. Several recent crimes which were particularly atrocious and which were given wide publicity have evoked rather numerous expressions to the effect that the criminals ought to be lynched. The discovery of the dead body of the Mattson boy in the west, for example, incited many persons not even remotely connected with the victim’s family to remark that the kidnaper should be summarily strung up if captured. Last week the slayer of a Michigan state policeman was captured and a crowd of several thousand persons gathered around the jail at Monroe, threatening to take the law into their own hands. A hundred officers guarded the jail all night long to prevent a lynching. It is entirely understandable that there should be a general demand for prompt and adequate punishment for criminals of this kind. But what so many otherwise intelligent persons do not appear to understand is that the evil consequence of lynchings far outweigh any good that can possibly be accomplished. The record of lynchings in the United States has shown an improvement. Last year there were nine lynchings, all in the south, and all of the victims were Negroes. In 1935 there had been 20, in 1934,15; and in 1923, 28. The record for last year is not as good as it might appear, when it is known that 35 other persons were saved from lynching through the efforts of officers. Mob violence has nothing to commend it at any time. Even though the victim of a lynching may have been guilty and deserving of his fate, the mere fact that it was dealt him in a lawless manner is demoralizing to the participants and to the entire community. Not only that, but when once a mob gains control over forces of law and order no one can feel safe. Mobs do not trouble to find out whether a man is guilty or not. The presence of several thousand persons around a Michigan jail last week was in itself a disgrace to the community. It is not entirely too far-fetched to suggest that the people of Michigan themselves were indirectly responsible for the murder of the policeman. For one thing they voted to abolish the death penalty in their state, and criminals probably have less hesitation in resorting* to murder because of that fact than they might otherwise have. For another they are responsible for the parole system and parole officials who turned loose the man who later committed the murder.

WORDS Os Wisdom "Life and Death” By ERNEST CROSBY So he died for his faith. Taat is fine. * More than most of us do. But, say, can you add to that line That he lived for it, too? In his death he bore witness at last ” As a martyr to the truth. r Did his life do the same in the past, From the days of his youth? It is easy to die. Men have died For a wish or a whim — From bravado or passion or pride, Was it harder for him? But to live—every day to live out All the truth that he drempt, While his friends met his conduct with doubt And the world with contempt. Was it thus that he plodded ahead, Never turning aside? Then we ll talk of the life that he lived, Never mind how he died. Twelve things to remember—l. The value of time. 2. The success of perseverance. 3. The pleasure of working. 4. The dignity of simplicity. 5. The worth of character. 6. The power of kindness. 7. The influence of example. 8. The obligation of duty. 9. The wisdom of economy. 10. The virtue of patience. U. The improvement of talent. 12. The joy of originating. —Marshall FieldThera is no short-cut, no patent tram-road, to wisdom. After all the centuries of invention, the soul’s path lies through the thorny .wilderness which must still be trodden in solitude, with bleeding feet, with sobs for help, as it was trodden by them of old time. —George Eliot. To look fearlessly upon life; to accept the laws of nature not with meek resignation, but as her sons, who dare to search and question; to have peace and confidence within our souls — these are the beliefs that make for happiness. —Maeterlinck. Nothing is easier than fault-finding; no talent, no self-denial, no brains, no character are required to set up in the grumbling business. —Robert West He is an eloquent man who can treat humble subjects with delicacy, lofty things impressively and moderate things temperately. —Cicero.

THE COMMUNISTIC DILEMMA \ / ufll V rtfeM — z*»lf SOVIET CMIEr ORDERS 0 111 iMI I ' RUSSI * N INDUSTRY -Ti? % l z )JpgCZ>|f Hfipj IMiTATF AMERICANS.

fl BULLETS or JUSTICE l| By REX COLLIER == ' Copyright. 1936. by the North American Newspaper Affiance. Inc." £ ii ■ IMt I * I # H I | | I Ell »Room in the Florida House in W hich “Ma” Barker Was Killed.

“MA” BARKER

k HE G-men killed a woman—a mother — in their famous siege of the Karpis - Barker gang’s hideout on Lake Weir,

FloridaT — but what a woman! As a mother, she had taught her four boys how to rob, kidnap and murder. She had given them private lessons in the fine art of loading and . firing a Thompson submachine gun. She had plotted crimes for them, obtained paroles for them, chided them when they bung’ed a job, patted them on the back when they carried out her carefully planned outrages. Screaming with rage, stu. had turned a machine gun on agents of the federal bureau of investigation who called on her to surrender at Lake Weir—and she died with that gun. still smoking, in her hands. Such was the “untimely end” of Kate Barker, known to the underworld of the midwestern “crime corridor” few years back as “Ma.” “Ma” Barker died with her bankrobbing, kidnaping son, Fred, in a palatial eight-room frame house rented by the Karpis-Barker gang near Oklawaha, Fla. From the agent who led the raid on that house and from data in the files of the F. B. 1., this writer has obtained a first-hand official account of the spectacular end of Kate and Fred Barker, and of the incidents which led to discovery by the G-men of the Florida fortress. The trail leading to the Barkers began when experts in the technical laboratory of the F. B. I. identified fingerprints, found on gasoline cans in the Bremer kidnaping, as those of Arthur (“Doc”) Barker, paroled murderer and son of Kate. “Doc” Barker had a sweetheart in Chicago whose name was learned by the F. B, I. agents investigating associates of the gang. For six weeks agents shadowed her. Finally, the long vigilance was rewarded. “Doc” Barker arrived at the girl’s apartment one day, but the agents waited in the hope that other members of the gang also would appear. For* four days thereafter, the agents trailed Barker and the girl on pleasure jaunts and shopping tours about Chicago — and on several occasions they were seen to enter another apartment, not far away from the girl’s. Agents were “planted” to watch the second apartment, on Pine Grove avenue. They saw two men and two women come and go from this apartment at various times — but the men were not known to the G-men. On January 8, after “Doc” Barker had been seen in his girl’s apartment and the other quartet had been “checked in” at the Pine Grove avenue place, it was decided to raid both apartments simultaneously, or nearly so. Just before the hour for the raids, Barker and the girl emerged from the latter’s apartment, and waiting agents, with drawn guns, closed in on them. “Doc” Barker started to run, slipped on some ice, fell to the ground and was seized before he could arise. The girl was taken without a struggle. It was not necessary to fire a shot. The couple was taken to the F. B. I. office quietly, and the agents hurried to aid their fellow officers at the Pine Grove avenue flat. The inspector in charge went into the lobby and called over the house telephone to the apartment upstairs in which it was believed members of the gang were living. A woman answered. He asked for “Mr. Bolton,” meaning Byron Bolton, known to be a member of the Karpis-Barker mob. The woman asked who was calling, and the inspector thereupon identified himself as a federal agent and demanded that everyone in>the apartment come down the steps with uplifted hands. There was a frightened outcry as the phone was hung up. A moment later, the door of the apartment was opened and two women came down the stairs, with hands raised high above their heads. They were followed by Byron Bolton, likewise evidencing submission. The trio was asked why the other man did not come down. The inspector warned that resistance would mean gunfire and that the apartment building was completely surrounded by armed agents. One of the women, frightened by this warning, shouted a plea to “Daddy” to surrender. “Daddy” was Russell Gibson, alias “Slim Gray. Gibson meanwhile put on a bulletproof vest, picked up a Browning

It may make a difference to all eternity whether we do right or wrong today. —James Freeman Clarke. He is the happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home. —Gothe. Every man is a volume, if you know how to read him. ’ —Channing. 1' ■ ■ Snobbery is the pride of those who are not sure of their position. —Berton Braley.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 28,1937*

automatic rifle, turned the lights out in the kitchen and stepped onto the back porch. Agents saw him and called on him to surrender. Instead, Gibson opened fire with the rifle in an effort to clear the way and started to run down the back steps. An agent stationed at the rear returned the fire, and Gibson fell the remainder of the way down the steps—fatally wounded. In the apartment were found three Browning automatic rifles, .two .351 automatic rifles, four automatic pistols, a sawed-off shotgun, steel vests and a large quantity of ammunition. Most important of all, however, was a torn letter found in the apartment. The salvaged portion of the letter was not signed and had no address, but it referred to the pleasant life the writer was leading in Florida. It mentioned a lake with a houseboat on it and an alligator in it. The alligator, it said, was named “Old Joe.” With no more clues to follow than these, F. B. _. ag.nts began a search for a lake in Florida with a houseboat and an alligator known as “Old Joe.” Believe it or not, the third lake : visited by the agents answered the ; description given in the letter, completely. Houses fronting on this lake were investigated discreetly and one was • found that had aroused suspicions of neighbors because of “strange goings-on.” The occupants were described as a stout old woman of j disreputable appearance, her son and daughter-in-lfiw—“Mr. and firs. Blackburn” — and two o.t her I couples. The other couples, it was learned, had departed in an auto- ' mobile that morning. The descrip- | tion of the old woman and her son I fitted “Ma” and Fred Barker. More agents were rushed to Oklawaha by plane and automobile and plans were made to raid the house the next morning at dawn. At 7 a. m., it was light enough , tc see the figure of a man sleeping on a .cot at the front door. The inspector in charge of the raid stepped forward toward the front porch and shouted a demand that the occupants come out of the house, hands raised. Fred Barker jumped from the cot and ran upstairs. ’ The agents heard’ “Ma” Barker’s raucous voice yell: *AII right—go ahead!” The inspector shouted: “O. K., come on. Fred first. You’ll come out first, Fred, if you have the nerve!” Immediately, “Ma” Barker was seen to step to a window and open fire with a machine gun on the inspector, who jumped behind a shed. , Fred simultaneously begah firing a powerful automatic rifle at an agent who had taken behind a small tree. “Ma” and Fred began to concentrate their fire on the agent behind the tree near .the shed. Seeing that the agent —a trusted companion — would soon be killed by the rifle bullets, which were easily capable of penetrating the tree, the inspector deliberately dashed from ’ behind the shed to draw the fire away from the agent. Running and dodging across the lawn for a few feet, the inspector threw himself headlong toward the front porch of the house and rolled over and over as bullets from “Ma’s” machine gun threw dirt in his eyes and whistled around his ears. By getting close to the house, he was able to get out of range of fire, as the Barkers would have had to expose themselves in the window in order to aim at him. Before long, the firing from within the house ceased, and, after several hails had gone unanswered, the agents entered the bullet-riddled house. Fred Barker had fallen on his face, with a .45 caliber automatic in his hand. “Ma” Barker lay on the floor, still caressing her machine gun, which she had reloaded with a 100shot drum. The drum had been partly used up. In the house, the agents found another machine gun, three rifles, three automatic pistols, a number of bullet-proof vests and a large quantity of ammunition. The two couples who had departed not long before the G-men arrived, it developed later, were Alvin Karpis and Harry Campbell and their women. A few days later, they shot their way out of a police trap at Atlantic City—only to be hunted down and captured eventually without gunfire/— by J. Edgar Hoover and his men in sensational raids at New Orleans and Toledo. WNU S«rvic*.