The McDowell times. [volume] (Keystone, W. Va.) 1904-1941, 1936-09-25
Lights Of NewXork
BY L. L. STEVENSON

| IL nau 10 draw picture OF a
woman who makes her living guild
ing explorers and others in the jun
giles of British Guiana, l wouldn't
choose Mrs. Violet McTurk as my
model-Ive been to British Guiana
and looked at that Sullen, brooding
jungle. Mrs. McTurk is young, soft
spoken and blonde. Her attractive
appearance suggests the beach and
sun umbrella of some swanky club
rather than the green HE'LL" as it
has been aptly termed. Neverthe-
less, difficult as it may be to think
of a jungle guide as young, soft
voiced and blonde, and especially
one with the name Violet, Mrs. Nc
Turk makes her living that way.
From November until May she
guides explorers, movie expeditions
and just plain tourists from George
town, the capital of Demerara,, to
kaietur Fall, a three-day journey
up the Potaro river and the jun
gle begins at Georgetown.
Born in Barbados, Mrs. McTurk
after her marriage seven years ago,
went to British Guiana with her
husband, who ran freight and dug
gold. Their home was on an island
in the Potaro, which is a branch
of the Essequibo. The island was
sort of kingdom, with friendly
dians as subjects. Word passed
through the bush that McTurk had
married and Indians came from as
far away as hundred miles - in
the jungle, hundred miles is more
than a mere bit of pleasant motor
ing - to look at her and touch her
blonde hair and white skin. Four
years ago, McTurk died. It was
then that Mrs. McTurk became
guide. She averages one trip a
month and when not guiding, runs
a store at Kangaruma, 1913 miles
from Georgetown, where miners
buy their supplies, the island home
having become too lonely after Nc
Turk died. She also supervises In
dians who dig gold for her.
Mrs. McTurk is here on a two
months vacation. 1t is her first
visit to New York and she is duly
impressed. AS a matter of fact,
she finds New York far more thrill
ling than the jungle. Of all the
excitement, riding in the subway
has supplied her with the most,
she said. Then she added that New
York is far more lonely than British
Guiana-and there is something to
that.
Some way or other, I can't take
down my hair and have good cry
over these wise guys down in Wall
street. When repeal came along,
they continued to buy their liquor
from the bootleggers who had
served them in the more or less
dry spell. The reason was that the
bootleggers sold various well-known
brands at much less than was
charged by stores licensed by the
state. The bootleggers explained
that theirs was struggled goods and
thus they escaped payment Of GUS
toms and import duties, as well as
taxes, and they were willing, for
old times sake to pass along the
savings to their customers.
Well, everything went along all
right until, as you may have seen,
the government took charge of
bunch of gentlemen who had been
supplying bootleggers with essential
supplies, such as empty bottles with
brand names, and revenue and tax
stamps. Along with that came the
announcement that the Wall street
wise guys had been the biggest
patrons of the dispensers of fake
liquors. And instead of tears, there
were smokers.
That reminds me of well-known
writer who took prohibition so seri-
ously that when it went into effect,
he buried supply which he
thought, at the rate of one drink
a day, would last him the rest OF
his life. When the bootleg industry
began to flourish he took to hooch,
laying by what he could, figuring
that in time the stream would run
dry. Then came repeal and it will
still be a couple of months before
he gets around to digging up any
of his buried treasure. His fear is
that he will have completely lost
his taste for the Mccoy.
One of the busiest Saturday places
in New York is Battery park Many
excursion steamers start from there
and so crowds congregate. It's an
animated scene with picnics getting
mixed up with other picnics, and
ticket sellers for rival lines moving
here and there trying to outshout
one another.