“AN UGLY TONE”

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 267, 1 February 1928, Page 1

“AN UGLY TONE”

Temperament of Unemployed Men HUMAN NATURE SEVERELY TAXED Thousands Out of Work HUMAN nature can stand a certain amount, but so far as we are concerned, we have reached the end of our tether. I predict that if something is not done soon there will be a big political revolt, because there is an ugly tone about some of them—a tone that I don’t like.” These are the words of the Rev. Japer Calder, who confessed to SpSUN man to-day that the unemployment situation in Auckland has reached a stage where it cannot be adequately handled..

fT’HE city missioner accepted full responsibility for his utterance, declaring emphatically that for the first time in the history of the mission he had been compelled to inform people that he could not assist them —so great was the stream of people who passed through the institution daily in search of food, drink and clothing. The unemployment position has steadily grown worse during the past few months, and it is estimated by those with the most intimate knowledge of the market, that here are over 2,000 men alone out of work in the city and suburbs. Trade union books disclose startling figures, and even in mid-winter the out-of-work lists are no greater than they are at present. City relief workers shudder to contemplate what is to happen before the winter of 1928 arrives, however, as the situation has never been so tense in midJanuary as it is revealed to be at the present time. The Sun man who investigated the position specifically sought the silver lining which is reputed to embellish even the cloud of poverty and want, but after an afternoon of fruitless search, he was compelled jfeo conclude that this was the darkest curtain that has overshadowed this city for many years. Social workers could not assist him in discerning the bright side. “We are up against it,” was the universal plaint. “We do our best, but the job has become too big.”

STATE BLAMED There was an ominous lack of confidence in the ability of the authorities to handle the big problem successfully'—not only on the part of those who are directly interested in the welfare of the men, but from those who previously treasured the belief that the Government would help them out. , Mr. Calder—usually most tolerant, of men—spoke with some vehemence. “I am satisfied,” he said, “that the people at present in power are utterly incapable of dealing with the problem.” Others shrugged their shoulders significantly when the name of the State was mentioned. “How do you feel when you have to turn down hungry people?” Mr. Calder was asked. “How do I feel? How would any decent man feel in having to send them away starving? How would you feel if you saw men whom you knew as big strapping fellows gradually wasting day by day till now they are so thin their clothes are just clinging to them? These are not wasters. They are chaps I have known for ten years.” “But where do they go? Do they starve and die?” “No; I do not think any of them die of starvation. I think someone just steps in and keeps them from that.” “What is to happen in the winter?” “Oh!” (Mr. Calder raised both arms

above his head.) “I fear there might be epen revolt before then. I don’t like the look of some of these fellows. Human nature cannot stand it.” “Can you suggest a remedy?” “There is only one remedy—work. If you handed me now a cheque for £l,ooo—and heaven knows, I could do with it here —it would not give these men what they want. They do not want charity. They want work.” “Are all the cases you handle genuine hard-ups?” “I say that 90 per cent, of them are genuine cases. You see, we know them so well. They are not strangers to us. We get a few larrikins, but we soon pick them out.” THE GREEDY LANDLORD In this question of unemployment enters the landlord of the story book —that grotesque corpulent figure with money hags hanging in profusion from his belt, and the expensive cheroot between his gold-filled teeth. "When do I get my rent?” one property owner asked of Mr. Calder across the telephone while The Sun man was inquiring. “What!” the city missioner literally shouted into the instrument. “Do you not realise that you will never get your rent? Don’t you know that even if this man gets work, it will be only for a week? Then when he gets permanent work, he will have to live.” Yet it is recent history that a certain big landlord in Auckland watched the relief recipients in the holidays, and a woman who had gathered £2 for food and fuel for the home, found him on the doorstep before her waiting for the money. So threatening was he that she gave him the lot! The family of four went unfed and unfrocked.

And so it goes on—pages could be written about it. Men will not go to the country because farmers, they say, make them work 14 hours daily for their keep only, while the families have to remain in town and starve. The problem is the biggest yet. Pace it they must; and face it soon. In this city human endurance is weakening. How far off is the breaking point? POSITION IN WANGANUI RELIEF LOAN PROBABLE (Special to THE SUN.) WANGANUI, To-day. Wanganui has to face an acute unemployment problem and many men are idle in the city at present. The Council last evening held a special meeting to consider raising a relief loan of £15,000 for streets and paths, and decided not to proceed with this proposal, but to reconsider raising £75,000 to include the cost of a women’s rest.