#bee is also nonbinary

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NEW YORK SUN Newsboy Fight On Wall Street: What Actually Happened?

July 29, 1899

By A. Kelly

The following is based on an audio recording of Jacob “Patches” Booker’s account of Tuesday’s events. I have reviewed and edited to include details that Booker might have left out, as well as definitions of certain slang words Booker uses. In most cases, I have used the nicknames that Booker uses to address various mentioned newsboys/newsgirls/etc.

So y’all wanna know what happened with the fight down on Wall Street the other day, an’ since I’se was there, the Times thought I would be best-suited to tell the story. Dunno why though, ‘cause all I did was get Queen Parker an’ Spades Campbell out of the fight before they got soaked bad enough that they had to go to the hospital or somethin’. [‘Soak’, in this context, appears to mean ‘give a severe beating’, as the recipient of the ‘soaking’ is usually soaked in blood after, hence the name.] Honestly, them Brooklyn kids jist dunno when t’ stop fightin’.

[Please stay on topic, Mr. Booker. What happened that day?]

Well, I got up that mornin’ an’ got ready to sell my papes [newspapers] like usual. Diamond Jefferson - he’s the leader of us Queens newsies - he’d told us the other day that we wasn’t gonna strike with Kid Blink an’ Racetrack [Louis ‘Kid Blink/Blind Diamond’ Baletti and Ed ‘Racetrack’ Higgins, the leaders of the Manhattan and Brooklyn newsies respectively, and the leaders of the strike], even though a lotta other newsies said we’se should. Diamond’s logic was that we have about 50 newsies in our borough, an’ since we make less than $5 a day, we can’t afford to not sell papers without goin’ hungry.

Rags Miller an’ Jumper Laurence tried sneakin’ out t’ strike with the Brooklyn newsies the other day, but Diamond an’ Bee Johnson - they’s Diamond’s second [second in command] - caught 'em an’ almost soaked 'em. Me an’ Bee’s little brother Stitches had to pull ‘em offa Rags an’ Jumper before they would stop.

Anyway, I was about t’ leave an’ go get my papes when Skids Lee had to open his big mouth an’ tell Diamond that his brother was strikin’, an’ why couldn’t he go strike too. Diamond got mad an’ said that if Skids wanted to starve because he wanted to go off an’ play at bein’ on strike with Kid Blink an’ Racetrack, then that weren’t any skin offa his back. Then Diamond dragged me into the mess an’ told me that he’d sell my papes for me if I took Skids to Brooklyn. I told him I didn’t want Scribbles an’ Foxy Davids to steal my sellin’ spot again, an’ he pulled me aside an’ told me, “Patches, you’se is the only one I trusts t’ take Skids an’ keep a level head ‘stead of gettin’ caught up in the strike”.

[Here, Booker went on a ramble about how it was nice to be trusted by Diamond, especially after being yelled at the previous week for getting in trouble with the ‘bulls’, or police, for an unknown reason.]

Anyway, Skids an’ I went to the Kosciuszko Bridge. We met up with some of Skids’ friends from the Bronx, an’ then we went across the bridge to Brooklyn an’ joined all the other newsies in this big open square. The crowd there was huge, I’se is tellin’ you. Newsies fillin’ up the whole square, with some little’uns [younger newsies, usually around the age of seven or eight] standin’ on barrels or crates so’s they’se could see what was happenin’. Kid Blink, Racetrack, Morris Cohen, David Simmons, an’ the other borough leaders was standin’ on the base of this statue of some famous guy in the middle of the square so that everyone could see 'em. They’re only about my age [Booker guesses his age to be about fifteen, but he does not have an exact number], but they’re in charge of this whole thin’. They’se the ones who went an’ thought up the idea, they’se the ones who organized the strike - this whole thin’s all 'em. It’s kind of amazin’.

Everyone was talkin’ to their friends, or goin’ up to Racetrack or Kid Blink an’ talkin’ to 'em, or somethin’ like that, until Switch Sullivan [leader of the Harlem newsies] gave a loud whistle an’ yelled “EVERYBODY SHUT IT,” then all of us quieted down real quick.

Kid Blink started off by thankin’ everyone for comin’ out an’ joinin’ the strike, an’ how the newsies of New York City was strikin’ for fair pay because the World an’ Journal had upped the price of papers to somethin’ we couldn’t pay. [Some context: the newsies must buy the newspapers themselves from the newspaper companies before they can sell them. A week ago, the New York World and New York Journal raised the price the newsboys buy at from 50 cents per hundred papers to 60 cents per hundred, meaning the newsies would have to sell 10 more papers every day just to earn the same amount as always. This is a price the newsies cannot afford to pay without going hungry, and thus the strike started.]

Then he talked about how we all had to stick together an’ not let anyone keep us from gettin’ what we want. Then Racetrack got up on the statue an’ told us to gather into groups of four or five, an’ for the little’uns to stick with a big’un [older newsboy, around the ages of eleven to twenty-one] or two, an’ then the leaders would come ‘round an’ tell us what we was supposed to do.

I ended up in a group with Queen, Spades, an’ their friend Sketch Carson. Then Spot Conlon - he’s one of the Brooklyn newsies - anyway, he came over an’ told us that we’se had to go 'round an’ find scabs who are sellin’ the World or the Journal an’ try an’ convince 'em to join us. [‘Scabs’ seems to refer to people who break the strike and accept pay to sell the newspapers, since the newsies refuse to do so.] We had to be nice ‘cause Cammie Clifton [leader of the Bronx newsies] was concerned about how us fightin’ the scabs might look to people - they all thinks of us as street rats, an’ if we fight each other, we’re just provin’ 'em right an’ we’re givin’ 'em an excuse to throw us in jail with all the other rats. So we had to try an’ be diplo… diplo… that thin’ where you try an’ be calm an’ make peace.

Yeah, that. Spot said we had to be diplomatactics an’ get the scabs on our side. If we saw any other kids goin’ to work or on their lunch break or comin’ home from work, we gotta try an’ convince 'em too, ‘cause we need as many kids as we can to join the strike or else Pulitzer an’ Hearst ain’t never gonna take us seriously.

Someone from another group pointed out that they ain’t never gonna take us seriously anyway an’ that maybe we should just give up an’ disband the strike, an’ Spades told him to shut up an’ stop bein’ such a downer.

“‘We’se gotta stick together an’ not let the scabs an’ the bulls or Pulitzer an’ Hearst or anyone else keep us from getti’g the fair treatment we’se deserves, ‘cause if we’se don’ stick together an’ fight for this, then we’se pretty much given up an’ told ‘em that they can do whatever they wants to us’,” Sketch quoted. “That’s what Race said, right? An’ now that’s what we’se is tryin’ t’do.”

[Here, Booker almost went on another ramble before I reminded him to stay on topic, tell us about the fight, and not get distracted by talking about his fellow newsboys.]

Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on. I’se gettin’ to that part. I’se tellin’ the stuff that happened before everythin’ so it all makes more sense than if I hadn’t.

[Do you mean context?]

Yeah, that. I’se givin’ context. Anyways, Spot told us that Kid Blink said to head towards Wall Street, since his boys saw a few scabs down there sellin’ the other day. Problem was, nobody told us that the scabs had moved over a couple blocks, an’ now there was a bunch of ladies sellin’ papers on the corner where he’d sent us, so we couldn’t soak 'em if thin’s went south. A fellow can’t soak a lady. It just ain’t right. It’s fine if someone tries to soak Queen, ‘cause she’s a newsie an’ she don’t care about bein’ clean an’ proper-like, an’ she’ll probably beat you in a fight with one hand tied behind her back anyways, but you can’t just hit an innocent lady. I mean, you could, but then any decent newsie is gonna soak you for it.

Anyway, the ladies tried to offer us some papers, but we told 'em no an’ asked 'em to join us. They refused, when “diplomacy failed”, as Sketch put it, Queen got mad an’ started yellin’. A bull noticed an’ grabbed Queen’s arm, tellin’ her she was under arrest for harassin’ these nice ladies. That’s when Spades decked him square in the face, an’ all hell broke loose.

Obviously, me an’ Sketch got the girls away from the fight first so they didn’t get hurt or somethin’ before we went back to go try to break it up. I told Sketch to run back to the square an’ get Race or Spot or someone who could calm Queen an’ Spades down, an’ they took off runnin’, an’ I went back to the fight. By the time I got there, the cop had a shiner [black eye] in the makin’, Queen’s lip was bleedin’, an’ Spades was down on the ground curled up in a little ball with the cop hittin’ him an’ Queen tryin’ to get the guy offa him.

I managed to haul Queen offa the copper, an’ Sketch came back with Spot, plus a couple of other newsies from Brooklyn. Between me an’ the Brooklyn boys, we managed to pull the cop off of Spades an’ get him away from the cop. Once Spades was safe an’ sittin’ on the curb, Spot started chewin’ Queen out for tryin’ to soak a cop, while one of the newsies checked out Spades’ injuries an’ told ‘im his ankle was twisted. Last I saw of 'em before the other Brooklyn newsie took me to find Skids was Queen an’ Spot shoutin’ at each other an’ his friend helpin’ Spades up off the curb while Sketch was talkin’ with the cop - probably apologizin’ for their friends an’ askin’ him not to arrest anyone.

Anyway, someone called the news an’ told 'em what had happened, but the way the guy told the story an’ the way the Times ran the headline, we’se was a bunch of street rats harassin’ some nice ladies, an’ when the cop told us to leave 'em alone, we all jumped on him an’ soaked him, six to one. Sketch an’ Spot went to the Times to complain about how that’s not what happened, an’ how none of us ever touched the ladies, an’ the cop was the one beatin’ ‘em up, an’ Spades an’ Queen just wanted to make sure neither one of ‘em was hurt, an’ the rest of us was just tryin’ to break up the fight. The Times didn’t want any of th’ Brooklyn kids tellin’ what happened, ‘cause Queen an’ Spades was in the fight, so they had a… that thin’ where you ain’t fair about tellin’ the story ‘cause you like one side better than the other.

Yeah, a bias. That thin’. They didn’t want Queen an’ Spades tellin’ the story ‘cause they was in the fight an’ the Times thought they was gonna be biased about it an’ talk about how they was innocent an’ the cop was beatin’ ‘em for no reason. Spot an’ Sketch couldn’t do it, either, ‘cause both of 'em was gone for most of the fight an’ they didn’t know what was goin’ on, an’ then Sketch had the bright idea of volunteerin’ me, cause I was there an’ I saw the fight, but I weren’t in it.

Anyways, that’s the whole story, every last bit of it, at least that I can remember. Mighta forgot a few bits an’ pieces, but they’re probably not important. Oh, an’ Spot says that Kid Blink says to tell the people readin’ this to not buy the World or Journal or any of the other papers we’re strikin’ against until they roll the prices back to where they was before all this happened, please ‘n’ thank you, sirs an’ ma’ams an’ anyone else in between.