THE CONGRESS: Dog Days

Washington was hot enough to drive a man crazy. The nerves of Representative Frank Whelchel of Gainesville, Ga. were on edge. Just to make things worse, from the room below his office in the Old House Office Building came the incessant bump and whir of mimeograph machines. Mr. Whelchel had complained about the noise more than once. In his soft Georgia accent he had told Truman Ward, who has a concession to duplicate speeches for Democrats, that one day he would “smash the machines to pieces.”

The day had come. Up leaped tortured Congressman Whelchel, grabbed a club—a length of 2-by-4 that was standing in a corner—and rushed downstairs. In Mr. Ward’s office he laid about him with a whack and a will, smashed a machine on its head, walloped a $600 feeder. The 2-by-4 bounced out of his hands. He recovered it, took a few more swings, departed, breathing deeply, feeling better.

Said patient Mr. Ward, surveying the damage: “I wouldn’t fight with a member of Congress unless in self defense. He was cussing and I could see he was angry. So I just stepped back. … In the 20 years I have been running this duplicating service I have only had one other member complain about the noise. That was a gentleman from Texas.”