Former Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell, February 1916
“The breweries didn’t admit their guilt to one single thing. Not to paying poll taxes for poor Antis. Not to making illegal use of their assets to further their political agenda. Not to violating anti-trust statutes. They claim to be as innocent as babes in the woods when they are as evil as those zeppelin airships slipping in at night to deposit deadly bombs on civilians in England and France.”
“The Attorney General did whack them with the third largest judgment ever rendered in the history of the state,” says his son-in-law Clarence Dilley.
“Two-hundred and eighty-thousand dollars? That’s chickenfeed to them. Barely a slap on the wrist. In 1911 alone, the San Antonio Brewing Association contributed more than $100,000 to the Texas Brewing Association to defeat the Prohibition Amendment.”
Former Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell, June 1914
“Fannie, that was absolutely delicious,” gushes Minnie Ball. “The strawberries were enormous and sweet, but your crumbly shortcake is the best I have ever tasted. Please share your recipe with me.”
“Yes, please do.” Tom Ball, pats his stomach as he leans back in his chair.
Flattered, Fannie smiles. “Of course, but there really is no secret, aside from a quarter-pound of butter and fresh cream. There’s no recipe written down. I make it the same way my mother did, and I suppose her mother before her.”
“I don’t understand it,” Thomas interjects. “A good man like you, Tom, forced to run against that rube from Bell County who truckles to the liquor interests. And I find it disheartening that someone with obvious conflicts of interest—that keg-roller Otto Wahrmund—slips back into his seat in the House of Representatives unopposed.”
Former Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell, September 1913
“Governor,” says his son-in-law Clarence, “you hit the ball out of the park this afternoon. You left the crowd at the Cotton Carnival clamoring for more. The senatorial bee was buzzing in all of Galveston’s bonnets.”
“It felt good to be up there on the stage to counter the chicanery and political pecksniffery of the Colquitt machine. And the hoots of support from the old Tehuacana boys in the audience lifted my spirits. I never go anywhere in the state without bumping into fellow alumni from Trinity. If I had attended one of those uppity eastern universities, I doubt I could’ve been elected. The enthusiasm of the old Tehuacana boys carried me through the convention.