Drama, violence in 1912 election riled Petalumans

The headlines in the Petaluma Daily Courier 104 years ago this month screamed: “Roosevelt Shot In Milwaukee!” I was reminded of what former President Teddy Roosevelt did on Oct. 12, 1912.

The headlines in the Petaluma Daily Courier 104 years ago this month screamed: “Roosevelt Shot In Milwaukee!” The incident occurred just prior to Roosevelt giving a speech, when an unemployed saloon keeper named John Schrank shot him in the right chest at point blank range with a .38 caliber pistol. Most people would have been killed instantly, but not Teddy.

Roosevelt had been wearing a heavy army overcoat, a three-piece suit and, in his right breast pocket, he carried a metal glasses case plus a folded 50-page speech, which effectively provided 100 pages of protection from the bullet’s force. His aides rushed to his side with the intent of getting him to a hospital immediately.

What did Teddy do? He deliberately coughed forcefully into his handkerchief and, seeing no blood, opened his vest to check out his chest, finding blood there and a small hole between his ribs. Roosevelt shrugged off any assistance, asked for a clean handkerchief to cover the wound, and went in to give his speech.

He began by calmly announcing, “I don’t know whether you fully understand that I have been shot.” He then, with great stage craft, opened his shirt to show the crowd his bloody wound, saying “this is where the bullet went through, so I cannot make a very long speech, but I will do my best.”

Well, one can only imagine such a Shakespearean scene today, and the hue and cry of the opposition yelling “Fake!” But it wasn’t a fake, and Roosevelt spoke for an hour in that wounded condition.

Petaluma Courier editor D.W. Ravenscroft, an avid Democrat, skeptical of the veracity of the event, stated in his editorial: “The only apparent hope of preserving American liberty is through the Democratic Party. Mr. (Woodrow) Wilson promises to do his best. That’s good enough.”

So, how did this drama play out? The 53-year-old Roosevelt had said about his wound, “It takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose, he just pinked me.” And, about his would-be assassin, John Schrank, who had been committed to an asylum, Roosevelt said, “A poor man, as such, will be swayed and the most awful passions will be let loose.”

Thus, Roosevelt turned the near tragic event into a political windfall.

On Oct. 15, the Courier stated: “Petalumans worried about Teddy Roosevelt’s health.” On Oct. 17, “TR feels bully, ate moose steak for breakfast.”

The bullet, you see, had lodged next to the president’s rib and had hit no vital organs. In fact, hospital surgeons determined to leave the bullet in place, and then those doctors set an election year standard, still with us today, of releasing to the public complete and transparent medical records of the candidate. (What would be next? Tax returns?)

But, the year 1912 was newsworthy for reasons other than the bitter presidential campaign. The “unsinkable” passenger liner, Titanic, had sunk that April, killing 1,517 passengers and crew. And that year, New Mexico and Arizona had been admitted as the 47th and 48th states, and Alaska had been made a territory of the U.S.

Way ahead of the times, the states of Arizona, Kansas and Wisconsin led the nation on the suffrage issue, moving to give women the right to vote. But it would be another eight years, before that was achieved nationally.

In lesser, but still lasting news that year, Japan had gifted 3,000 cherry trees to Washington, D.C., and those still thrive today. Closer to home, the Bay Area was all atwitter over San Francisco’s efforts to make parts of Marin, San Mateo and Alameda Counties “Boroughs of Greater San Francisco,” much like New York City. It was heartedly defeated by the California State Legislature.

In Petaluma, life was pretty much as usual. However, as a sign of the era of the automobile, the long established W.F. Farrell Wagon and Buggy Maker was now offering “service for vehicles.” The Carlson and Currier Silk Mills had accepted delivery of 6,000 pounds of soap via an Alco motor truck, the first ever cross country delivery by truck in the U.S. The trek had taken three months to complete.

In 1912, Petaluma’s Raymond Brothers Clothing carried “Warner’s rust-proof shaping corset for the growing girl.” (Really, rust-proof?) And if you were in the market for a house, Batchelor and Rankin real estate was offering, “1.5 acres, adjacent to city limits, with 4-bedroom house, barns, hen houses, fenced. $1,500, with $200 down.”

If one became ill in Petaluma, one could always go to “H. L. Lorenzen, physician and surgeon, specializing in electrical and vibratory treatment,” at 135 Kentucky St. Oh boy!

To further illuminate the election news of 1912, Teddy Roosevelt had chosen not to run for a second full term in 1908, placing his considerable backing behind William Howard Taft. When Taft grossly disappointed him as president, and then the Republican National Committee put Taft up for a second term in 1912, Teddy bolted from the GOP and formed The Progressive Party, which became known as The Bull Moose Party. The result was that Democrat Woodrow Wilson won the election in 1912, and Taft came in third with Roosevelt second. It marks the only time in U.S. history that a third party candidate came in as high as second place.

(Historian Skip Sommer is an Honorary Life Member of Heritage Homes and the Petaluma Historical Museum. Contact him at skipsommer@hotmail.com.)