Mayor's Nest

The day after Daniel F. (for Francis) McDevitt took office as Democratic mayor of Reading, Pa. last January, he made a florid announcement: he was going to drive out the gamblers. He gave pinball-machine operators 24 hours to get rid of some 1,000 "multi-coin" machines (in which players can insert a number of nickels to boost payoff odds). But Mc-Devitt's crusade was a resounding flop. After 19 days, in which three pinball distributors and two operators were arrested, he lifted the ban. His reason: the city (pop. 114,200) could not legally outlaw the machines. But Daniel McDevitt warned citizens nevertheless that Reading's 150-man force would maintain "sharp vigilance" to prevent gambling. Vowed the mayor: "We shall not permit the location of such devices near schools."

The politically independent Reading Times (circ. 36,911) found the sharp vigilance soon blunted. When newsmen last May found ten gambling machines within one block of three junior high schools, McDevitt said he would do his best to have them removed. But the Times reported that pinball machines were, if anything, more plentiful than ever. Fortnight ago, in his "Old Pete" column in the Times, City Editor Richard C. Peters, 36, reported: "The old mob openly and brazenly admits that it shelled out half a million in 'restoring' a situation to its liking. The mob admits that it has gotten back the half million."

Reading Jail. Next day T-men called City Editor Peters, confided plans to raid Reading's pinball-machine operators that afternoon for nonpayment of the $250 federal gambling tax. The Times covered the raid, broke out its 96-point head type next morning to banner City Hall Reporter Charles H. Kessler's story on the seizure of 44 machines. Under a Page One picture of a raid on the Reading House tavern, the paper made a sharp note: the place had belonged to the mayor until his city hall job forced him to transfer ownership to a brother.

Danny McDevitt at first said that he found the raids "quite amusing." But he soon changed his mind. One afternoon last week, when mild-mannered Reporter Kessler checked in at Reading's grey old city hall, he found the second-floor pressroom locked; the gold-and-black PRESS lettering on the door had been scraped off. When Reporter Kessler called the news to City Editor Peters, a photographer was sent over to take a gag picture of Kessler sitting forlornly on city hall steps with a typewriter in his lap. As Kessler headed back into city hall, he was intercepted by McDevitt and Police Chief Bernard F. Richards. "Lock him up," said the mayor. The startled newsman was booked for disorderly conduct and packed off to a cell. Kessler's fine, later appealed by the Times: $50.

"Gestapo Methods." In a full-scale war on the Times and its sister paper, the evening Eagle, onetime Top Sergeant McDevitt, 39, had the press table removed from city council chambers, ordered police to trail news photographers, canceled newsmen's longtime immunity from parking tickets. McDevitt's police dogged Eagle-Times delivery trucks, handed their drivers 73 tickets in four days, before the mayor relented. McDevitt denied that "those federal technicalities," i.e., the raids, were to blame, said he merely wished to prove that he was no "docile doormat for smart-aleck reporters." Said Reporter Kessler: "It's a frightening, bitter feeling when Gestapo methods are used to jail an innocent person."

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