I’m not a big fan of titles with colons in them. What comes after the colon is usually clickbait or a sound bite. When the printing press was just becoming popular, it was even worse. Titles used to cover the entire frontispiece. Instead of a colon, you’d have something like “Leviathan or The Matter, Formes, and Power of A Common Wealth Ecclesiasticall and Civil.” Come on, Tommy. You had me at “Leviathan”.
But sometimes a big book deserves a big title. “Big Trouble: A Murder in a Small Western Town Sets Off a Struggle for the Soul of America,” by J. Anthony Lukas is a big, scholarly telling of a gripping story, in 875 pages (including extensive notes and index). The subtitle is a good description of the content, and “Struggle for the Soul of America” is not hyperbole. This is a parable in how small beginnings can have massive consequences, in this case of how one little murder can cause Big Trouble.
It begins in Caldwell, Idaho, where Frank Steunenberg, the former governor, is blown up walking through his front gate. I’m guessing you’ve never heard of Steunenberg, and odds are you can’t find Caldwell on a map. I have lived in Idaho for over 30 years, and I’d never heard of Steunenberg. Caldwell I know, but I never suspected that it was a fulcrum in the big social battles of the 20th century: the collapse of the Gilded Age, the labor movement, socialism, trust busting, large scale environmental destruction, assassination by explosion.
I read this book because I enjoyed “The Cold Millions” by Jess Walter (see my review). That was historical fiction set during the “Big Trouble” detailed in this book. I wanted to know the “real” story.
Early in the 20th century, tension between the super rich and the working masses had begun to explode (literally) into protests and violence. In this part of the country, at this time, the biggest businesses were mining, logging, and the railroads. Cattle ranching was another very big business, though it had started to shrink by the turn of the century (I highly recommend “Cattle Kingdom” by Christopher Knowlton for that story). These were big businesses, not old prospectors chipping at rocks or men in flannel axing trees. The destruction was so pervasive that we still suffer from it—witness the largest and worst superfund cleanup sites, Silver Valley in Idaho and the Berkeley Pit in Montana.
A handful of people amassed jaw dropping wealth while (stop me if you’ve heard this one before) the actual workers suffered in poor conditions and abject poverty. Consider how bad things must have been for Big Bill Heywood’s slogan to be so popular: “Eight hours of work, eight hours of play, eight hours of sleep—and eight dollars a day!” That was a was a crazy dream back then.
Successful politicians came in two flavors. Some like Governor Steunenberg cultivated wealthy friends. He made no bones about having moved to Caldwell “to get rich”. Some, like Teddy Roosevelt, fought excessive destruction of wilderness and “unfair” business practices. Both had to deal with the disruption and sometime violence that came with the Union movement. But Steunenberg needed those votes, and Roosevelt needed those private funds, so Steunenberg and Roosevelt were friends.
No one really knows who assassinated Steunenberg. But clearly, angry miners were involved. They had plenty of dynamite, for mining, and knew how to use it. Mine owners (and lumber barons) wanted to squash the union movement at its birth. They hired the famous Pinkerton detective agency to find, or create, evidence implicating union leaders, especially Big Bill and two of his associates.
As an aside, I didn’t realize how important private detective agencies were at the time. There’s a reason why so many Westerns have a Pinkerton. Back then, people didn’t trust the police, so they turned to The Detective. Pinkerton and his like were essentially above the law, and for hire to the highest bidder.
So a couple confessions were found. When one of the confessors recanted, every effort was made to persuade him to change his story—including using his wife. But the murders themselves weren’t on trial. The leaders were, on the doubtful theory that they “must have” ordered the hit, but in reality to crush the labor movement.
The attorney for the defense, Clarence Darrow, argued, among other things, that the defendants weren’t even IN Idaho when the murder happened, there was no direct evidence that they ordered the hit, and that they were not being held or tried in the proper jurisdiction. Along the way, he raised breath-catching amounts of money, a great deal of which he kept as legal fees and a great deal of which he used to pay Detectives and, probably, to bribe witnesses.
I can’t tell you how the worker-versus-wealthy story ends. We’re still living it. I won’t tell you how the trial ended, because that would spoil the read.
“Big Trouble” is a scholarly work, but it reads like a combination of thriller and true crime. At times, I thought Lukas included details because he could, rather than to advance the story or flesh out the narrative—such as the street address of the Western Federation of Miners (1613 Court Place, Denver, Colorado) or Steunenberg’s dog’s name (Jumbo), to pick two examples at random. But somehow they did not get in the way, nor did they bog the story down.
I felt an attachment to this story because of my personal connection to the places where it happened, my interest in this period of history, and my personal positions on labor and social stratification. But you don’t have to share any of that to enjoy this book.