Harry “Skillet” Leslie (1929-1933) – Governor Lazarus
With Governor Leslie, I had the good fortune to find that, just as I was about to write this section, the Journal & Courier re-published a column on Harry Leslie by Tippecanoe County historian, Bob Kriebel. Leslie was a Tippecanoe County native, born in 1878, and graduate of West Lafayette High School. As a transplant to the County who has been eagerly laying down roots in the community, I’ll enjoy some entirely irrational pride by association. We have a bridge named for the governor!
Leslie went to Purdue and was class president every year, captain of the football and baseball team and President of his class. (Not to mention, for reasons unknown, earning the nickname “Skillet”). He seems to have been something of a golden boy, and life was good. But, in 1903 tragedy struck. Indiana and Purdue’s football rivalry was developing. They’d played 10 times, Purdue had a 7-3 advantage in the series, but Indiana had won 3 of the last 4 encounters. Organizers wanted to play on a neutral site in Indianapolis. To accommodate the team and fans, Purdue organized two special trains that carried 1,500 fans and the team itself. Special trains operated outside the normal schedule, and a clerk on the railroad failed to notify the switchmaster near 18th street in Indianapolis that the specials were coming.
The first special, carrying the team, rounded a corner and saw a coal train being pushed back on the tracks. The engineer immediately put the engine in reverse, hit the emergency brake, and bailed out. Unfortunately, no one else had time to do so. The engine slammed into the coal car, splintering apart the first few cars. The fans near the back of the train did not really know what happened, as they only felt a slight jolt before the train stopped.
Seventeen people died, including fourteen players. Leslie was thrown from the train and taken for dead. Literally. He was taken to the morgue before a pulse was discovered. Having been reclassified as “alive,” he was confined to a hospital bed for 38 weeks recovering. At the age of 29, he graduated from the Indiana Law School in Indianapolis after which he set up a law office in Lafayette and did some work for the IRS. In 1923, he went to the General Assembly as a Representative. The Republican minority was fairly small that year and he was chosen as caucus chairman as a freshman legislator. The Republicans had a big year in 1924, taking the majority, and he became Speaker of the House as a second term legislator. He would hold that position for four years before running for governor in 1928. Readers familiar with the last installment may recall that 1924 was the year that Ed Jackson — D.C. Stephenson’s man — had been elected to the governor’s office, and the Stephenson scandal that brought down the Klan happened in 1925. Leslie apparently had some Klan support in getting the Speakership, but he was not necessarily friendly to them, fighting “the Klan block on several issues, including committee assignments, legislation aimed at eliminating Catholic schools, and other issues.”
The 1928 elections were good for the Republicans. Hoover had his landslide win nationally, and in Indiana, Republicans won ten of Indiana’s thirteen Congressional seats. (1930 would show this as the highwater mark of Indiana’s population — that census would result in the state declining from 13 Congressional seats to 12.) Leslie beat out some competition for the Republican nomination, getting the nod on the fifth ballot. He then ran against Indianapolis mayor, Frank Daily. “Only” 75% of the voting age population cast votes during that election. While that would be a huge number today — and, in fact, it was up somewhat from the elections of 1920 and 1924 — it was down from a peak of 95.1% in 1896.
According to the 1930 census, early in Gov. Leslie’s term, Indiana’s population had risen to 3.2 million people. Of those, 96% were white. The urban population had climbed to 55% with 45% living in rural areas.
——-
In December of 1929, a blizzard hit the state. The Indianapolis News and the New York Times reported that Texas Senator, Tom Connally was stranded. Governor Leslie’s secretary took the phone call where Connally were snow-bound at a farmhouse along the Lincoln Highway near Valparaiso with 25 other travelers, that food was becoming a problem, and the roads needed to be cleared. It was later reported that Connally and the other motorists were trekking on foot to Wheeler, Indiana. The highway department was wrestling with 8 foot snow drifts.
Then shockingly on December 23, 1929, The Vidette-Messenger of Valparaiso, Indiana reported that the telephone call made from the Senator Tom Connally of Texas to the office of Indiana Governor Leslie was an imposter. According to wire reports, Senator Tom Connally is at home in Dallas, Texas and has been nowhere near Indiana.
Hard on the heels of that blizzard, not to mention the stock market crash, a drought hit in Indiana and elsewhere. Indiana received 57% of its normal rainfall (states like Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Kentucky had it even worse). In August of 1930, Governor Leslie had planned to use $2 million from highway funds for drought relief but the State Auditor told him that was illegal. (This would not have stopped Gov. Morton, but I suppose the embezzlement by Governor McCray was fresh in everyone’s mind.) However, Leslie was initially reluctant to have the government involved in addressing the issues caused by Depression and drought because he was afraid it would make citizens too dependent on the government. To some extent, the debt limitations put in place after the canal debacle in the early 19th century tied the State’s hands in terms of the relief it could offer. Eventually, Gov. Leslie changed his mind and he urged the federal government to hire out-of-work farmers for state road projects.
Next time: Strange Fruit in Marion
Leave a Reply