The "A Sleezy Tale About Lancaster That I Never Knew From The Past!!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  And then I opened my local newspaper to page F1 and all hell broke loose.  The title of the story on page F1 read "SEX AND OUR CITY."  

How can that be....in Lancaster, Pennsylvania?  As I searched the page for pictures of all this vice, I saw the little black box with reverse printing that had the title LANCASTER VICE in bold letters.  Come on now...this can't be a newspaper from good ole Lancaster...can it?  And...there was a photo of a woman...mind you...named M. Alison Kibler who was going to tell me the story about sex in my city of Lancaster.  Well, she said that..."You can learn a lot about the history of commercial sex in Lancaster city from one house."  Boy...was I in for a shock!  Today the attractive home on the 200 block of West Lemon St. has a painted brick exterior with a shade tree out front;  a reading room of the First Church of Christ, Scientist, is down the block; the Lemon Street Market is nearby.  110 years ago, this house was a brothel owned and run by Mayme Carman with her business and romantic partner, Charles Bates.  Nothing about the block today hints at it's history.  Undercover investigator Minerva Mullen spoke to Carman and Bates here several times during the first week of November 1913.  Mullen was working for the American Vigilance Asso., an organization devoted to closing down commercial sex operations in cities across the country.  The minister of my church, St. James Episcopal, The Rev. Clifford Twombly, and other leaders of the Lancaster Law and Order Society had invited Mullen and three other detectives to investigate the workings of commercial sex for one month in 1913.  Rev. Twombly and others were trying to put the lid on vice in Lancaster.  The investigators produced a report that was designed to shock the city: There were 189 "professional women" who worked in brothels, rooming houses and hotels.  This was a very large number compared to "wide open" towns, where vice was an open secret, and the report admitted that this count was not complete.  Well, one such woman, Minerva Mullen, who was 36 years old and a mother of five, had traveled to good 'ole Lancaster from Brooklyn where she pretended she was interested in buying a brothel in Lancaster.  Her conversations about potential purchases revealed details about the operations, profits and legal problems of brothels.  She kept detailed notes about all these conversations.  And these notes are now preserved in the Lancaster Law and Order Society Collection at LancasterHistory.org.  Mullen pretended that she wanted to buy the brothel on West Lemon Street.  Bates explained how buying and selling brothels worked in Lancaster.  He further explained that Lancaster was a good town for vice because it attracted a lot of travelers.  "We get them going and coming, just dropping in for a day or two, get their money and send them on their way, rejoicing."  He revealed what Mullen surely already knew; that police and elected officials allowed the existing brothels to operate freely, but discouraged the opening of new ones.  The cooperation of police and elected officials during that era made Lancaster a "wide open town" - where commercial sex was a lucrative business, attracting both travelers and locals.  Carman affirmed that mayor Francis (Frank) McClain "knows everything that goes on."  Franklin & Marshall College students were known to come to Lancaster's brothels.  Once they tried to bang the door down at the brothel at 252 N. Prince St. And they hung out around the Wheatland Hotel on North Queen Street and around the concentration of brothels on North Water Street.  Lancaster's vice scene attracted people from all economic levels, from college students and traveling businessmen to laborers.  Expensive brothels, with plush furnishings and art on the walls, charged $2, while cheap brothels, which often lacked indoor plumbing, charged only 50 cents.  Mullen asked about the "vice crowd " in town, referring to the Law and Order Society.  Bates dismissed them as "a bunch of old ministers too old for tricks."  Bates said they tried to pass the curfew law.  Well, council scuttled it, but they were so damned persistent they got it through, so there is no telling what they will do.   They closed all the music in cafes, took out gambling machines, stopped a hell of a lot of dances."  By 1913, the society had won the passage of a curfew for those under 16, removed some gambling machines, and shut down some dances, but it had not convinced the city administration to crack down on brothels.  At least not yet.  A Republication machine ran the City of Lancaster then, elected officials appointed police and factory inspectors, who lined their pockets and their bosses' pockets with bribes.  Importantly, the Law and Order Society saw the campaign against vice as a fight against the corrupt city administration and the exploitative conditions of industrial capitalism.  Its members were fighting more of a political and economic battle than a crusade over individual morality.  The basics of Lancaster vice were all revealed in these conversations between investigators and brothel keepers at one house, in 1913.  Commercial sex was profitable for property owners and brothel keepers; it was encouraged by city officials; while a new group of clergy and civic leaders was starting a political battle to put the lid on vice in the early 20th century.  There is much to learn, however, from other conversations in many other places.  The article went on to say that they invite you to email them your city address to find out if it was linked with vice in the past.  A century ago, it might have been a brothel, a gambling den or an unlicensed bar.  Well, the story ended at this point and I can hardly wait for the next edition of the story in my local newspaper.  I learned so much about my little town of Lancaster just reading this story titled "Sex and Our City."  Perhaps I may be surprised about what else might have gone on in following years.  I can hardly wait for the next story in my newspaper.  I promise I will share it with you when I read it in my newspaper.  But don't count on it to be anytime soon.  It took nearly 100 years for this information to surface.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.