Frank Little and the IWW
Never know what you can discover in old mining camps—under the floorboards, that is. Forget the hardware lying around, or even grains of gold. So far, my friends have found old photos, food cans (labels still-colorful), tobacco cans, and even cans of condoms. But a miners’ union entire ledger? Letters? This is a rich treasure,…
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3-7-77. The only clue attached to Frank Little’s corpse swinging on a hemp rope from a Milwaukee Railroad trestle in Butte, Montana, on August 1, 1917. A Bureau of Intelligence agent in charge noted that the pasteboard placard warned the dimensions of a grave: 3-feet wide, 7-feet deep, and 77-inches long. If so, the warning pinned…
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Tomorrow, July 12, is the 102nd anniversary of the infamous Bisbee Deportation. This horrendous action of Americans taking illegal action against other Americans will be memorialized in Bisbee, Arizona, with a host of speakers. Historians will try to explain the illogical hatred and misplaced patriotism of individuals responsible for the deportation, locals will bring to life the…
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I found that Frank Little, subject of my first book Frank Little and the IWW: The Blood That Stained an American Family, often spoke of Ludlow in his last years. His final words regarding the Colorado coal miners’ tent colony were on July 20, 1917, during a fiery speech at Finn Hall in Butte, Montana. Immigrant women…
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The University of Oklahoma Press recently released a new book that certainly caught my attention. Copper Stain, by Elaine Hampton and Cynthia C. Ontiveros, should be an excellent read. I was raised on El Paso’s northeast side but moved near ASARCO (the west side) after I turned 18. The smelter’s community plays a small role in my book Frank…
Read MoreToday is the anniversary of a horrific incident (which seems too mild of a word to use), where innocent men lost their lives at the hands of vigilantes who disagreed idealogically. The Everett Massacre reminds us Americans how we have a capacity to turn thoughtless, ugly, really, when it comes to our divisions. Today, we still have not…
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When I was a kid at Halloween in El Paso, Texas, I often resorted to the easiest costume I could put together, short of cutting two holes in a white sheet and trick-or-treating as a ghost. While many of my peers often dressed as beatniks, my friends and I would dress as hoboes. Easy. Ragged…
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I’m busy preparing my presentation for the High Plains Book Festival so no new post. Since today is the anniversary of American folk singer and writer Woody Guthrie’s death, I honor him, reposting a blog from my www.franklittleandtheiww.net “Chasing Rabbits” page: I first came across Woody Guthrie while researching another lyricist, IWW Joe Hill, whom…
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