CHAPTER 6. LIFE AT HARD LABOR—THE HOPI 111
conscription and the U. S. winking at Dutch imperialism in Indonesia there is less reason than ever for paying an income tax. If I am arrested I am doing time for a good cause, for, paraphrasing Thoreau, a prison is the only house in a war mad world where a Christian pacifist can abide with honor. If I am left free I will continue to be non-tax payer, sell CW's, and aid my daughters. I win either way.
On March 14th, 1949, I carried signs saying that 75%, of the income tax goes for war and the bomb and that I have refused to pay taxes for seven years. Right away a squad car came up and I was taken to the police station to see Captain Curry.
"Do you know there is an ordinance saying you can't picket?" he asked.
"Do you know there is a Supreme Court that says in the case of the Jehovah's Witnesses that it is o.k. to picket?" I replied.
"You're a smart guy, eh!"
"Sure, it takes a smart guy to deal with the cops," I answered.
"Smart fellows like you; we take you upstairs in jail and give you 30 days for not registering as an ex-convict," he said.
"O.K. take me up. You got me," was my reply.
Not being used to this moral jiu jitsu he said he would have to go upstairs and see the mayor for further instructions. He came back and in a confidential tone said:
"I fixed it up for you. Just go home and rest and don't picket and we won't give you 30 days."
"I don't feel like resting. I feel like picketing. Go ahead and give me 30 days upstairs or arrest me for picketing; whatever you like," was my reply.
"I have to confer with the authorities some more" he said as he left me. Coming back later he said rather glumly, "Alright; smart guy. You know the law, go ahead and picket, but remember if you get in trouble we will pinch you for disturbing the peace."
"I'm not disturbing the peace. I'm disturbing the war" was my rejoinder.
"You will be on your own" the Captain said.
"I've been on my own all my life; I don't need cops to protect me," I answered.
"If you get knocked down we will pinch you for getting knocked down, was his retort.
"You would!" I said, as I went out to my picketing.
After an hour of picketing the same cop who pinched me before came along and said, "You here again!"
"Captain Curry said I could picket," I replied.
"To hell with Captain Curry" was his answer.
"That's a nice way to talk about your boss" I told him. He advanced to me roughly and said that unless I got a written permit from the City Manager he would put me in solitary. There is a time to talk and there is a time to walk, so this was the time to walk. I went with my signs to the City Hall. The Mormon Mayor, Udall, had offices to the right and he was not on good terms with the City Manager Deppe, with offices to the left. I sat in the waiting room or an hour while their secretaries sent notes or phoned back and forth as to
