RESCUED BY POLICE

Southland Times, Issue 18965, 12 June 1923, Page 5

RESCUED BY POLICE

MISSIONARY IN TROUBLE

“CONGREGATION” ENJOY THEMSELVES LIVELY INCIDENTS IN DUNEDIN. The usual small number of enthusiasts who join in the open-air religious meetings conducted by Mr A. Lind in Moray place (opposite the Savoy) on Saturday evening developed into a large “congregation,” records the Otago Daily Times. It is not suggester that they were all there for the purpose for which the meeting was held, although Mr Lind appeared to have a fair sprinkling of direct followers. Curiosity and anticipation of “something doing” attracted the crowd. The meeting, which started shortly after 8 o’clock, was conducted in the usual manner, although some of the speakers were “counted out” and subjected to considerable interruptions and good-natured “barrack” by the crowd. Mr Lind himself essayed to speak, but he only “held the floor” for a short period, during which he was. heard to remark that he “was never afraid to look everybody fairly and squarely in the face.” It was when the meeting closed at 9 o’clock that the fun commenced in earnest. The crowd then surged round the central figure of Mr Lind, and opportunely “two men in blue” appeared to take a hand in the proceedings, and they ranged themselves alongside Mr Lind. After a considerable amount of jostling in Moray place, the crowd surged into Princes street, with the policemen escorting the hatless Mr Lind. Along they were jostled at double quick time. There was no “loitering on the footpath,” as the good-natured “limbs of the law” (who appeared to be enjoying the situation) had, along with the others, to obey the inexorable push of the mob and “move on.” This continued down to Rattray street, where Mr Lind was safely deposited in the 9.15 Roslyn car, which was on the point of moving off. The policemen, conscious that they had effected a “rescue,” then retired, wiping the perspiration from their brows, to resume the more sedate beat duty, and the crowd quickly dispersed. On Sunday evening Mr Lind was announced to speak at the Tailoresses’ Hall in Dowling street, and before the advertised time of commencement a crowd had commenced to gather in the street, and by 7 o’clock there was a dense mass of people across the street from the hall entrance to Messrs Samson and Co’s, building on the opposite side. The meeting in the hall was carried out as usual, Mr Lind being the preacher, a good number of friends and supporters being in attendance. Some of those outside found their way on to the stairs leading to the meeting room, and when the congestion became too great the police cleared the stairway, and, closing the street do#r, a sergeant and four constables took up a position on the street adjacent to the door. Those outside in a good-natured way indulged in short intervals of “community” singing, such well-known ditties as “Abe, My Boy,” being sung with great gusto, as also was “We Won’t go Home till Morning.” “We Want You, Abe,” as a concerted call, was also taken up by the crowd, who occasionally varied the proceedings by “counting out” the man sought. The crowd evidently expected Mr Lind and his followers to emerge from the street door and make for a motor car which was standing fully lit in front of Messrs Samson’s premises and “thoughtfully” kept a thoroughfare clear for him. Sergeant Turner, who had charge of the posse of police, and who acted with considerable discretion throughout, had other ideas as to getting Mr Lind away in safety. At 8.30 a slight tapping from inside the door prompted Sergeant Turner to open it. A few whispered words to the constables who were standing by, and Mr Lind, accompanied by a number of his followers, emerged. The police ranged themselves alongside Mr Lind and two or three members of his party and promptly found an easy way along the payment down Dowling street by keeping close to the buildings. The crowd, which must have numbered well over a thousand, ran down the street whooping and yelling, many of them engaging for the most part in goodnatured banter. The police, with their charges, hurried past the Daily Times Office into High street, the crowd thinning out as it went along, and in about three or four minutes from the time Mr Lind made his appearance in Dowling street he, with his followers and escort, had reached the Police Station. The gates were promptly slammed, and in a few seconds the iron railing fence in front of the station was a mass of seething humanity howling and yelling, the din being deafening for some minutes. As the way was barred from the front a section of the crowd then turned its attention to the old gaol yard, an entrance being effected from Gaol street. A blank was drawn, however, and the numbers quickly thinned out. Meanwhile Mr Lind and his friends were made comfortable in the watchhouse, and shortly after 10 o’clock a motor car pulled up at the Police Station, and in about the space of a minute or so it sped up High street with Mr Lind and a police escort as passengers. Only some half-dozen enthusiasts were sufficiently patient to stay long enough to witness the final scene of an exciting incident, a half-hearted “couni out” bein’? the finale.