Senator William E. Borah unleashed a fiery attack on prohibition nullification, comparing it to "Bolshevism in Russia, Fascism in Italy, and military dictatorship in Poland" — all "whelps from the same kennel, barking at the same thing: constitutional government." The Idaho Republican was taking aim at referendums like New York's upcoming vote on the liquor question, calling them attempts to undermine the Constitution through nullification. Meanwhile, in Fort Worth, Texas, Rev. J. Frank Norris preached to a packed 6,000-seat Baptist church just 50 feet from where he had shot and killed lumberman D.E. Chipps the day before. Charged with murder but claiming self-defense, the controversial pastor chose as his sermon text "There is no condemnation to them that are in Jesus Christ." Hundreds of congregants shook his hand after the service, showing their support for their embattled preacher.

These stories capture America at a crossroads in 1926. Prohibition was cracking under pressure — wet states like New York were pushing back against federal authority, creating the exact constitutional crisis Borah warned about. The "noble experiment" was breeding contempt for law itself, with even senators openly debating nullification. The Norris case reflects the era's religious tensions and celebrity culture. Radio and newspapers were creating national figures out of controversial preachers, while traditional moral authority clashed with modern skepticism — seen also in Aimee Semple McPherson's kidnapping controversy dominating Los Angeles headlines.

• Major R.A. Logan bought up all the land around Nova Scotia lakes where he believes a French "pay ship" sunk in 1700, carrying up to $2 million in treasure — he's so confident in an old Spanish narrative that he's willing to spend five months digging with just two laborers
• The Army assigned a special "show-down man" named Harry Brown to pose as a would-be recruit and catch recruiting sergeants who were lying about army life to potential enlistees — apparently some had "exaggerated a bit"
• A meteor explosion at exactly 5:08 A.M. woke up thousands of Maine residents from Portland to Dexter (130 miles north), preceded by a "blinding bluish light" that alarmed people since there was no storm
• The Johnson House in Gardiner, Maine advertised itself as a "Commercial Motel" — one of the earliest uses of that term — with "every room with running water" for $1.50
• Two American relief workers in Russian Armenia had a Wild West-style shootout with 20-90 Tartar raiders trying to steal their imported Swiss cattle, saved when cavalry arrived "over the hills"

• Senator Borah, featured prominently on this front page, would become known as the "Great Opposer" — he'd famously cast the lone Senate vote against joining the World Court and helped kill U.S. membership in the League of Nations
• Rev. J. Frank Norris, who shot a man and preached the next day, was already notorious for burning down his own church in 1912 for the insurance money — he'd later become one of America's first radio evangelists
• That meteor that woke up Maine at 5:08 AM was likely part of the Perseid meteor shower — 1926 was a particularly active year for meteor sightings across New England
• President Coolidge, mentioned vacationing in the Adirondacks, was so famously silent that when he died, Dorothy Parker quipped "How can they tell?" — yet he held more press conferences than any president before FDR
• Charles F. Morse, the aged financier too ill to appear in court, was known as the "Ice King" who once cornered New York's ice market and later tried to monopolize shipping on the Atlantic coast