How Taillights Caused A ‘Riot’ And Jail-Break In Small-Town Kansas In 1916

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I’m so excited to be able to relay to you this incredible bit of circa-1916 breaking news, because it has so much good, deeply weird stuff crammed into it: taillights, a riot that was maybe more of a big comical parade of hundreds of people (even though the significant property damage was real), and a description of a viral story in 1916 terms. It’s all so good, and it takes place in a little town called Augusta, Kansas, and yes, it was absolutely all started by taillight-related events. I better explain.

This story came to my attention via my friend T.Mike, an elusive and shadowy archivist, who noticed a post on Reddits r/oldnews subreddit, and then found for me the original source articles. The first one described what sounds like a pretty terrifying riot involving 2,000 people that ended with the destruction of a jail and the freeing of the prisoners within:

If you read the article, the reason those 2,000 citizens stormed the jail is because a “widely known citizen” was arrested on a traffic charge. That charge? Not having a functioning taillight.

Now, the story gets deeper here, because the reason that widely known citizen had taillight problems in the first place is because of the town itself. From that story in the October 7, 1916 edition of the Emporia Gazette:

“The streets of the town are so rough that the tail lights of motor cars jar out, the drivers allege.”

I engaged the archivist to help me find references to the archaic term “jar out,” and it turns out it’s referring to the habit of oil-burning lamps extinguishing their flames when jostled or bumped, which splashes the oil around and up onto the wick. You can see it referenced in old ads for electric lights, like this one from the Ohio Brass Company:

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The light there is a sample of an oil lamp that would have “jarred out,” specifically one from a Ford Model T. So, it seemed that the riot’s cause was that people were being fined for non-burning taillights, when in fact the reason they weren’t burning was that the shitty roads were so bad they were jostling the lights out, and people had enough.

Other researchers on the original Reddit thread found more information about the town of Augusta’s motor vehicle regulations, including Ordinance #274 which stated, according to a document titled History of Augusta Public Safety Department (emphasis mine):

April 9, 1916 – Ordinance #274 was passed. This ordinance had to do with automobiles driving on the streets of Augusta. The speed limit was set at 15-mph. When turning a corner, speed was to be reduced to 8-mph. Also, there were barrels placed in the middle of each intersection. When making a left turn, drivers were to go around the barrel in the intersection. “Good and sufficient brakes” were a requirement. “A suitable bell, horn or other signal” was to be sounded fifty feet prior to any intersection. One half hour after sunset and one half hour before sunrise, one or more lamps showing white light “visible within a reasonable distance from the direction toward such vehicle is proceeding and a red light visible from the reverse direction” were required.

The document makes a reference to the riot as well, euphemistically referring to them as “interesting events”:

Interesting events were caused by the enforcement of this ordinance. To follow this story, you must remember that the streets were mostly dirt during this time. With traffic the streets became extremely bumpy, which proved to be especially hard on taillights (a requirement per ordinance #274). The marshal at the time, Crowe, and his three policemen (one of them being Crowe’s brother) were especially vigilant when it came to enforcement of this ordinance. The fine for violation of this ordinance was $16.85, and it was common knowledge that $6.85 of the fine went to the arresting officer. What an incentive!

(To put things in perspective, that $16.85 fine is the equivalent to $422 today! Holy crap. And if it was understood that the equivalent of about $181 went to the cop for each citing of a taillight-out fine, then hell yeah cops are going to be looking for the absence of red lights at the rear of every car to trundle by).

The same document continues, giving more details about what happened during the riot:

October 5, 1916 – Enforcement of ordinance #274, as it had been done over the past several months, came to an abrupt halt. On that evening, W. R. Peal, a prominent Augustan (who was later treasurer of Butler County) came riding a horse down State Street. Mr. Peal had a long pole in one hand that had a lantern with a bright red globe hanging on the end of the pole. Inside, the flame flickered illuminating the red globe. The significance of the light was obvious to everyone.

People along the curbs and sidewalks clapped and hooted, mocking the marshal, who was patrolling the street looking for non-burning taillights. The marshal and his men arrest Mr. Peal and took him to jail. This did not go over well with the citizens of Augusta. A mob, six hundred or so in size, of angry citizens quickly formed. Marshal Crowe jumped on a car and shouted at the crowd to disperse. No one listened. He drew his pistol and fired several shots over their heads.

The crowd was not affected and a brickbat came sailing through the air, hitting Crowe in the in the head and knocking him unconscious. He fell from the car and three or four men from the crowd started beating and kicking Crowe. Others rushed in and warded off the attackers. They then hurriedly moved the officer away from the scene.

The mob, however, was not finished…. Someone suggested that they tear down the calaboose (jail). A majority seemed to have agreed and with sledgehammers and crowbars in hand, the group went to the jail. They pounded and pried on the walls and doors until the doors came crashing down. They freed all the prisoners, Mr. Peal included. Once all were freed, a march to the mayor’s house ensued, demanding the discharge of the entire police force. The mayor was not home and could not be found. Nor could any of the policemen. All had gone into hiding.

Holy shit, right? What we have here is a riot that was triggered by, of all things, overly strict and unforgiving taillight legislation!

Now, here’s where things get weirder. The story of the Augusta Taillight Riot seems to have gone, essentially, the early 1900s version of viral, being reported on in newspapers all over the country, spread by the Morse code-internet that was the telegraph network. About 10 days after the initial story, a follow-up story appeared, partially in response to the popularity of the first story, and claimed that, no, the riot was really just a joke! Here’s a complicated headline from the October 17, 1916 Iola Daily Register:

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You can see the reference to the story’s virality in that last bit, “True Story of the Episode Which Went All Over the United States in One Form or Another.” So, what actually happened, then? If it was a big joke, does that mean there was no riot?

Well, from what I can tell, there was still what sure sounds like a riot, but that riot may have been — and I’ll admit I wasn’t really aware this could be a thing — a more good-natured riot?

I mean, the front of the jail was still smashed and required rebuilding, so I’d say that feels a bit more than a joke, at least maybe by my perhaps too-tender 21st-century standards. The Iola Daily Register sets the record straight:

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So, we see here that the impetus for whatever the hell happened is the same: shitty roads were jarring out oil-burning taillights, and here we get the extra bit of information that Fords (almost certainly the very common Model Ts) were especially susceptible.

We also get slightly different reporting here of the fines and the cops’ take. Here, the fine is $10, with the cops getting $1 of that money, so, in modern dollars, that would be $265 fine, with cops getting $26 — still a good chunk of change.

It seems the cops (who were all brothers with the last name of Crow) were fining drivers left and right, leading to people getting worked up, and one of the citizens, who was known as Old Pill Peel for some baffling reason, got a red lantern on a pole and started to parade around town in a sort of protest, and was soon followed by hundreds of people. [Editor’s Note: This story is absolutely bonkers. The cops all from the same family essentially paying themselves, riots caused by taillight oil sloshing, a dude named Pill Peel — what is this madness?! -DT]

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The crowd was taunting the cops with crow-like cawing, and demanding the taillight-offenders be released, but the police weren’t having it.

Then it sounds like shit really went off the rails, as the mob (numbering around 600 and not the 2,000 reported) grabbed some “bridge timber” and used it as a battering ram to smash the jail doors, releasing 13 prisoners. They then ran the police out of town, and went even more bonkers, deliberately cajoling motorists to break all the laws they could:

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Rioters were getting drivers to put their taillights out, drive on the wrong side of the road, speed, and more. It sounds like everyone went absolutely batshit.

And yet, somehow, nobody was calling this a riot. In fact, in the newspaper, one guy called it a “Halloween celebration.” Huh. A Halloween celebration that involved the destruction of a jail and physically running cops out of town and a horse and a lantern and more. Hot damn early 1900s Kansans knew how to party. 

I don’t really understand how this follow-up article was supposed to make everyone think, no no, this whole thing was all just a joke when everything is exactly the same, save for a lower cost for the fines and 600 people involved instead of 2,000.

So, despite what these almost-certainly-dead-people claim, I’m sticking with the claims of the original story: In 1916, a bunch of people started a riot because of taillights, and it got completely out of control.

Taillights are important, people. Like smash-a-jail important. Don’t forget it.

43 thoughts on “How Taillights Caused A ‘Riot’ And Jail-Break In Small-Town Kansas In 1916

  1. Way ahead of their time. Faced with unjust prosecution they protested, damaged public buildings, freed unjustly imprisoned people, defunded the police, staged a sideshow / shutdown, and revised the media narrative.

  2. TIL that a brickbat is a piece of a brick used as a weapon. Apparently, so many people were roaming the countryside with weaponized partial bricks that we had to invent a word for it.

    Also…calaboose?! Sounds like a Canadian X-Men character. “Calaboose! Get off the chesterfield and go get me some timbits and a double-double from Timmies! And pick up a 2-4 on the way back, eh?” “Yes, Professor X!”

  3. Thanks! This is the stuff you don’t find elsewhere in the automotive press. I’d like to think that 106 years ago, an ancestor of Jason’s (let’s call him Obidiah Torchinsky) squinted at this news through his monocle, thoughtfully twisted his handlebar moustache, and reached for his dip pin and inkwell. After all, SOMEBODY needed to tell the world that if Kansans really wanted to do tail lamps properly, they would design them as the Bavarians were doing, with modern electric lamps.

    Here’s to Obidiah, his moustache, and the Torchinsky taillight tradition. Thanks again for a fun read.

  4. We Kansans take our Halloween celebrations very seriously. Take my town of Independence as an example. For nearly a hundred years we have an annual festival we call “Neewollah” (Halloween spelled backwards, duh) that is a full week of festivities, street vendors, talent contests, a King and Queen, a medallion hunt and so on. See “https://www.neewollah.com” for the full scoop.
    So calling the great taillight event a Halloween related event is not too far off the mark.

  5. Hmmm, the original story cited the use of sledgehammers and crowbars, the second story said bridge timber as a battering ram, inquiring minds want to know the rest of the story!

  6. Dang! This is my Mom’s birthplace and we still have family in the area but I never knew about this.
    Thanks for the timely reporting of all the important tail-light news print to fit, as always.

  7. This is high quality internet content and contender for best car related article ever.

    How boring modern motoring has become by comparison!

  8. I’m just happy to see the word “brickbat” in print. I don’t know why, but it’s one of those words that makes me laugh when I try to say it out loud.

  9. In 1906 the San Francisco city fathers tried to get everyone to call the earthquake a fire so folks would still want to come to San Francisco. In 1916 the powers that be in Augusta, Kansas tried the same spin. They didn’t want to seem like a bunch of ruffians with a corrupt police force. Just a bunch of fun loving pranksters that took things a little too far. This needs to be a movie! Make sure the protagonist keeps mumbling something about family.

    1. Uh… Except there was a fire, a huge one. The overwhelming majority of the damage done to the city was from the ensuing fire, not the earthquake itself.

  10. ”In this crowd. were a lot of lusty men who liked Bill Peel and did not like Chief
    Crow, and who, moreover, were accustumed to handling heavy things.”

    This town of lusty men accustumed to handling heavy things sounds like quite the place!

  11. Some things never change. The whole downplaying of the thing reminds me of the riots going on a couple years back, with reporters on the scene talking about “mostly peaceful protests” with buildings burning in the background. Then you have the capital riot that some described as a “normal tourist visit”.

  12. I had a similar problem with my ’76 Yamaha XS650. That thing vibrated so much that the taillight and signals would routinely go out. I can’t say they caused any riots, but what a PITA. Then LEDs became a thing, and I never looked back.

  13. So was the Mayor home or not? “History of Augusta Public Safety Department” says no, but the Iola Daily Register says yes.

    Damnit the people wanna KNOW!

  14. The Emporia Gazette used to punch well above its weight back when William Allen White (author of “What’s the Matter with Kansas?”) owned and ran it. It’s one of the few family-owned papers still publishing today. They would have been my go-to source for taillight-related news had I been around back in the day.

  15. I am pretty sure that is Ol’ Bill Peel, not Pill Peel; based on the other prints of the name in the article. But Pill Peel sounds way more exciting.

  16. Nope. This must be it. I think were supposed to write our own story and the readers pick the best narrative.

    “Clem (ever the futurist, and banker who was wealthy enough to buy a brand new motor vehicle) stole a red lantern off the porch of Old Man Jenkins’ farmhouse. He wanted to tack it on the back of his new Ford and go “moonlighting” down by Amos Johnson’s pond.

    Anyway Old Man Jenkins’ wife (Betsy) saw Clem and had been a-hankerin’ for a sharp-dressed man like him for a long time. She then run-off with Clem, the lantern on the Ford and her dog Biscuit.

    So…Old Man Jenkins finds this out. He gathered up his kinfolk (who happened to be in the hoosegow because of weekend bender at the local drinking establishment) and chased them down. This started a Riot in the small community as the subsequent reporting discusses.

    Then after a week of hostilities, it all blows over and the whole town is friendly again because Betsy goes humbly back home when she realizes that Clem is really just a “dandy” and not particularly interested in settling down with any women-folk.”

    The end.

  17. WE’RE FIXING THIS! Our site is doing something stupid, but we should have the story back up in a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it! So sorry for the delay!

      1. “That charge? Not having a functioning website.”

        In other news. Fox also discovered this story and are working on turning it into a culture war issue.

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