Austin drivers are infamous for their excessive speed and disdain for basic traffic laws and signals. As far back as 1909, progressive motorists were pestering the City Council to raise the speed limit up from 8 mph. In an effort to prove that cars could be safely driven at speeds up to 20 mph, several crusaders took Mayor Wooldridge and the City Council for a joy drive. The Austin Daily Tribune reported the results:
Disregarding the speed ordinance for the dignified purpose of doing full justice to local autoists in their contention that the limit now fixed is too low, the mayor and city council went on a "joy ride" late yesterday aftemoon and participated in two accidents, the last of which almost resulted fatally--to a dog.
Dr. F. L. Griffith, hero of the "ox cart ordinance" speech delivered in the very teeth of the city police, and Ralph Goeth, were the hosts of the occasion. The doctor's car was in the lead when the party started from the city hall, at 5 o'clock, and contained Mayor Wooldridge, City Attorney Rector and Park Commissioner Bartholomew.
Mr. Goeth's guests were Commissioner Powell, Commissioner Gracy and Commissioner J. R Hart.
Merrily the "joy riders" swung out of Sixth Street on to Congress Avenue, the sly hosts pushing the speed of their cars just a little above the eight mile limit while their unsuspecting guests innocently wished for a little more speed. Once through the capitol grounds Griffith spurned oxcart speed and ran his auto at about twenty miles an hour. The commissioners leaned back in enjoyment, but Mayor Wooldridge asked if the autos were under control at this rate of speed.
"Certainly," answered the doctor. "Wait a minute and I will show you how quick I can stop the car."
The flying auto had reached Hyde Park by this time, and a long, smooth road stretched before the party, an ideal place for a demonstration.
"Now, observe," said the doctor, and suddenly slapped on the brakes. A snort of the engine, a grinding of the brakes. The city officials went into the air and tumbled back into their seats--and the car had stopped.
"Wonderful," said the officials in unison. "Fine. Wow? What's that?" For the auto had stopped just as another car belonging to Franz Fiset approached from behind, and a second time the occupants of the Griffith car rose into the air, as the doctor's Buick shivered under the crash of the big car behind.
The lamps of Fiset's car were all broken, and flying glass followed the officials into the upper air.
"A-hem," said Mayor Wooldridge, who was the first to alight, "Doctor, your control of this car is really wonderful, very fine indeed, and, of course, this other was only an accident."
Whereupon the autoists alighted to console the chauffeur of Mr. Fiset's car, who was ruefully picking the broken glass out of the lamps of his machine.
"We are very sorry this happened," said one of the distinguished party. "It was only an accident."
"Yes, sir, I am sorry too, 'cause I hate to go home with these busted lamps," replied the chauffeur. "They cost $60 a piece."
Further expressions of sympathy from the city fathers were cut short by the impatience of Dr. Griffith, who, being an experienced motorist, was probably used to the little incidents of the road.
Gracefully the doctor's car got under way again and headed north. The officials forgot their little mishap in watching his skillful steering, and hardly was the Fiset car left behind when an opportunity was offered the doctor to "show 'em" again.
A carriage containing two ladies, one of whom was driving, came in sight, in front of the auto. Dr. Griffith ran almost on the carriage, gave several loud "honk-honks," turned suddenly just as the vehicle did, missing it prettily and--ran over a fine pointer dog that dashed around in front of the carriage.
The officials heard and felt with horror front and rear wheels of the auto pass over the dog's body.
"Really, we must go back," said the mayor, "we must turn back and see if we killed him," and he glanced back to see the ladies tearfully dismounting beside the body of their pet.
"I ain't going back," said the chauffeur, ungrammatically but forcibly.
Mr. Rector looked back uneasily. "1 think we had better go back," he said.
"We really should," chimed in Mr. Bartholomew, who thought some apology was due the ladies.
After some further persuasion, the doctor, who had run about two miles while the officials plead with him, turned back.
To the relief of the officials they soon caught sight of the carriage, now about to move away. Fido, or perhaps Rover, was nestling in the front of the buggy and his anxious mistress sought to find how many bones were broken.
"You do the talking," said Mr. Rector to the mayor, and Col. Wooldridge dismounted and advanced to the vehicle occupied by the ladies and the dog. Baring his head and with a courtly bow the mayor placed his Panama over his heart in true southern fashion.
"Madam, I trust we have not seriously injured your pet," he said. "It was only an accident, which we all of us deeply deplore."
The lady, whom the mayor now recognized as Mrs. V L. Brooks, straightened up and favored him with an angry glance.
"Don't speak to me," she said, and drove away, leaving the city's executive rather discomfited in the center of the road.
The mayor sighed. Then he looked down the road at the receding carriage. He sighed again, and got back into the auto.
The return trip was made in a silence that sometimes became painful, but the exuberant spirits of the autoists again rose as they approached the city. Mr. Goeth in the other auto had followed his leader and escaped all mishaps. As the cars slowed up at the end of their journey, both drivers found their tongues.
"You see," said Dr. Griffith, "how impossible it is to comply with the present speed ordinance."
"And," said Mr. Goeth, "how easy it is to keep the cars under perfect control at a speed of say 20 miles an hour."
"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Rector as he dismounted, "the old ordinance looks pretty good."
Mayor Wooldridge said something too low for the rest to hear. Was it "Never again?"
On the arrival of the party at the city hall it was discovered that Commissioner Bartholomew had suffered a skinned leg in alighting from the auto after the collision with Fiset's car. This was probably one cause of the remark which he made when the dog was run over: "I've had enough, doctor, suppose we go back."