The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1932-10-22
Progress?
No! The HooverviIIe Man
Stands Where lava
Man Stood Back
Toward Dawn of Time.

I WENT out recently to see Hoo
Il verville. I was moved partly
through curiosity, and because l
fancied had good news for its
people.
Hooverville is the latest addition
to the city Of indianapolis. 1t con-
sists of cluster Of unsightly huts
and shacks, strung along the banks
Of White river.
It's denizens are one and all the
victims of the most dreadful OF all
social diseases. Theirs is the plague
Of poverty-of dire, bitter, hopeless,
degrading poverty.
Figuratively, Hooverville is fes-
tering sore-a malignant cancer on
the fair breast of Indianapolis.
Morally, 1t is disgrace to our civil
lization.
r WENT into a hovel Scarce fit
i for a BEAST a rudely improvised
shelter of rough lumber, rusty tin,
pieces of rotten carpet, old rags,
and miscellaneous refuse material.
II protruded from the side of the
river bank like an ugly wart. 1
found a man inside, sitting on the
bare ground, his knees drawn up to
meet his chin. He was so tattered,
unkempt, disheveled, with such
wild eyes and hair and beard that
he reminded me Of Pithecanthropus
brooding in his prehistoric cave.
Pithecanthropus, according TO our
anthropologists, lived few million
years ago in Java. He was lazy,
improvident fellow, addicted to
lounging in caves during the rainy
season, instead of working and
earning a living for himself and his
family.
Good morning, friend" I said
cheerily. Excuse this intrusion,
but I have a message of good cheer
for you and your neighbors from
President Hoover. Let me read it,
unfolded the Sunday Star and
read in loud voice and with APP
propriate feeling and JUNCTION the
following excerpt from President
Hoovers late address at Cleveland:
TIL IRE should be no fears or ap-
prehensiOn at any deserving
American fireside that starvation
or cold will creep within their
doors to menace the families and
loved ones over the forthcoming
winter.
A S l read, / glanced toward the
L n door But there was no door.
Just a piece of old carpet hung from
the Intel, serving as a curtain.
AS for the man. he appeared dazed
for moment. Then he reused and
let forth string of oaths, IF you
don't get out of here" he roared,
by the blank blankety blank, I'll
knock your head off, by blank, I
will" And he menaced me with a
murderous look, truly Pithecan-
thropic.
He then got up and then got
out.
I next tried it on an old woman.
She was boiling something like gar
bage in a rusty iron pot, over a stick
fire before the door of her tattered
tent. She was cross and Vixenish.
and interrupted me when 1 said
Hoover"
Look here. We want no Hoover
round here, she cried. Go away
from me, man, or I'll call the
police"
DLAINLY that was no thorough
Il fare. tried it again and again.
but the opiate did not work. Its
soothing effect was mill. NV
enthusiasm abated, my confidence
Debated.
1T was ever thus" I reflected as
shook the Hooverville dust from
my heels. And I thought of 1.-THE
Gracchi," and the ungrateful mobs
Of ancient Rome.
No, the Hoover panacea didn't
work. And, like most Hoover ex-
pedients, it never will work. You
can't warm naked people with
platitudes. Blankets clearly are in
dicated. You can't feed the hungry
with preachments. A homily is no
substitute for hominy, nor truisms
for vitamins.
HOOVERVILLE gives the lie to
Il Il the Hoover Hamilton eco
nomic theory, that if the govern
ment will help the rich their pros
perity will, perforce, overflow or
seep through to the common man
below, and every one will be happy.
Yes, Hooverville (the G. o. P.
prosperity addition to the city of
Indianapolis gives the lie with We
hement and tragic emphasis to the
Hamilton-Hoover philosophy of gov
eminent.
II is a melancholy thought this.
1t makes one despair of political
humanity. Two million years of
progress intervene between Pithe-
canthropuS and the man in the Hoo
verville hut.
And yet the man in the year of
our Lord 1882 is economically no
farther advanced than his ancestor
Of the Stone Age. Over both, eco
nomic insecurity and starvation
ever impend-yes, ever precariously
hang-like the dread sword of
Damocles. THOMAS d. MGEE.
3749 Central avenue.
GUNMAN R0BS WOMAN