Flying machine startles Warrenites

Taken from the pages of the Warren and Barrington Gazette this week in August 1912: Flying machine Jack McGee sailed over the town Tuesday afternoon somewhere about six o'clock. Some fortunate ones who happened to be looking heavenwards about that time caught a glimpse of the daring fellow as he sailed along far above the worry and troubles and dust of the earth. It is to be wondered whether any one envied him. It certainly was a weird sight. He did not seem to be moving so rapidly as one looked at him from mother earth, but he must have been eating up space if he did what the dispatchers say he did, twenty-two minutes from Pawtucket to Newport. Shortly after he had flown by, his automobile with his manager and mechanician dashed through town leaving only a trail of dust behind them. Jack was miles ahead of them. The machine in which he made the flight, as it appeared over the town looked about as large to the naked eye, as the pictures of it do in the paper. Silhouetted against the sky, with the first shadows of night creeping over the land, he looked like some giant bird of prehistoric times gliding over the land. One observer was heard to remark, "I don't see his wings moving." No, there were no wings; there was no sound of machinery. His distance from the earth at the time he passed over the town, it would be difficult to estimate. At Newport, his objective where he made his landing he is said to have come down from an altitude of 2500 feet. Some height. People watched him far as the eye could carry, saw him a mere speck and then he was gone into the gloom and gathering night. Jack is well known about town and those who knew him followed his flight with much interest. He started from Boston Sunday, hoping to make Newport that night, but he met with head winds and only covered part of the distance. He was in Pawtucket on Monday, after a flight from Readville,and Tuesday night finished his trip. Trailing behind his machine as he entered the city by the sea, was a banner which he had been commissioned to carry from the leading suffragettes o Boston to Mrs. O.H.P. Belmont at her Newport home. That's not our way A man with a name as hard to pronounce as his conduct was bad to his wife, is languishing in jail as the result of misapplied energy. Whatever they teach in the old country about the right of women, is not altogether revealed. Steabk Mazur knows that the methods that are n use with a fractious woman cannot be tolerated in this land of freedom. He undertook to correct is better half one night this week and as a result she was obliged to call upon the police. Steabk did his work quite thoroughly before they arrived on the scene and gave her a good beating so the neighbors aver. The doings of some of our foreign brehren in this community are passing understanding. The stocks and the pillory were the usual trick for a wife beater,and in some states they have resorted to that again. We have no wish to acclaim the methods of y olden tyme, but unless there is better understanding on the part of these people in reference to the law we shall be forced to. What would the fathers say? Melon thief Chief Robbins brought Antonio Arocei to town on Wednesday morning and locked him up in a cell until such time as he could be arraigned. Tony's love for melons was the cause of his downfall. For some time past the residents of Nayatt Point and the neighborhood have been missing garden truck of all kinds; and while they are most liberally disposed as a rule they object to having their produce taken without the asking. Recently they consulted Chief Robbins about the matter, not that they thought that the Chief had any knowledge of the missing goods, but that he might suggest some relief from the depredations that were almost nightly committed. The chief has had his weather eye open for some time now. Late Sunday night some one visited the choice melon patch of the Ballou place on the point and took away a few of the best. The chief was notified. He waited and watched, and as a result, where there was a happy song from the banks of the Tiber, now there is a very sad one. Whether his love for the lucious fruit was cultivated in this country or no, Tony does not say. Tuesday night Tony came again. He was caught in the act. The medicine that is coming to him will cost him more than Jamaica ginger, the usual watermelon remedy. Tony was up before Clerk Lonergan on Wednesday afternoon, and the Clerk thought that the price of the melons ought to be fixed at $10 and costs. Tony sent for his brother Rafael and the fine was paid. Rascals' refuge The town has become the refuge of a lot of the worst looking old rascals that were ever looked on. Thanks to the vigilance of the police they are kept on the move and routed out whenever there is a clue to their whereabouts. It may be that the force needs an increase in numerical strength, no one doubts their physical prowess. Complaints are rather numerous and from all quarters. Whether people realize it or not,this past week has been almost an endless succession of courts. It only goes to show that the town has changed in character. Three or four cannot be everywhere at the same time and cover all that's doing and no one expects them to. IF the town under the changed conditions needs more protection or regular protection in any one locality, then it should be had.


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Jim McGaw

A lifelong Portsmouth resident, Jim graduated from Portsmouth High School in 1982 and earned a journalism degree from the University of Rhode Island in 1986. He's worked two different stints at East Bay Newspapers, for a total of 18 years with the company so far. When not running all over town bringing you the news from Portsmouth, Jim listens to lots and lots and lots of music, watches obscure silent films from the '20s and usually has three books going at once. He also loves to cook crazy New Orleans dishes for his wife of 25 years, Michelle, and their two sons, Jake and Max.