American History Tellers - Evolution on Trial | Monkeytown | 2

Episode Date: July 16, 2025

On the sweltering morning of July 10, 1925, 200 newspaper reporters, newsreel film producers, and radio broadcasters flooded the county courthouse in Dayton, Tennessee. Hot dog vendors, preachers, and trained chimpanzees jammed the streets. The sleepy hamlet had transformed into a national spectacle almost overnight. The nation’s media had come to Dayton for the start of the trial of John Scopes, the local high school teacher accused of violating the state’s ban on teaching evolution. Crowds flocked to witness the famous orators William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow go to battle, in what was already being hailed as the “Trial of the Century.”Be the first to know about Wondery’s newest podcasts, curated recommendations, and more! Sign up now at https://wondery.fm/wonderynewsletterListen to American History Tellers on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season. Unlock exclusive early access by joining Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today by visiting wondery.com/links/american-history-tellers/ now.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Picture this, you're transported back in time, witnessing history unfold right before your eyes, without any modern-day interruptions. That's the magic of Wondery+. Immerse yourself in the stories that shaped our nation with ad-free episodes, early access to new seasons, and exclusive bonus content. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts and experience American history like never before. Imagine it's late May 1925 in Dayton, Tennessee. You're the owner of a dry goods store on Market Street,

and you're standing in the window arranging a display of stuffed monkey dolls. You look up to see a regular customer named Frank walk through the door. He takes a long drag on his cigar as he eyes your display. What, you're selling toy monkeys now? Nah, just responding to the demands of the market. Hey, would you mind giving me a hand with something? Well maybe what? You reach behind you and pull out a large sign you've been working on.

Above a drawing of a monkey swinging from a coconut tree are words painted in bright red, stop monkeying around, and start shopping. Frank squints at the sign and shakes his head. What in the world's that? That's for the trial of Mr. Scopes, you know, the fellow that taught evolution over at the high school. Folks are going to be coming to Dayton from all over and I've got to get ready. Well, I know about the trial and I don't like it one bit.

I'm glad they passed that law. I mean, imagine teaching kids that we came from apes as blasphemy. Well, what does it matter? Monkeys are no monkeys. Evolution's all in the past. You got to think about the future is what I say. Well, it matters to me. It's not like the law's going to get overturned.

Not with William Jennings Bryan on the prosecution. He's got him licked. In the meantime though, there's money to be made. People are gonna travel miles to see him thunder on about Genesis. You position a stool in front of a wooden beam and climb up the steps. Hey, could you pass me that hammer on the shelf behind you? Come hold this up. Frank rolls his eyes but does as he's told and holds the sign against the beam where it will be visible to people passing by. You tilt your head, eyeballing to make sure it's straight. Hey, push it up a little to the right.

How's this? Uh, looks good. You grab a nail from your shirt pocket and hammer the sign into place. Satisfied that it's secure, you step down to admire your work. Well, ain't that a beauty? If you say so. And you really think this trial's gonna draw up business? Oh, I know it will. I'm already selling those toy monkeys, and the trial hasn't even started yet.

Yeah? For how much? Fifty cents. Fifty cents? For how many? Fifty cents each. And people are buying them at that price? I'm selling them as fast as I can unpack them. Frank takes another puff of his cigar and scratches the back of his neck. Well, maybe all this monkey business ain't so bad. Getting folks in stores, bringing

money into town, just as long as our kids aren't getting corrupted. I don't think you have anything to worry about. This is a God-fearing town. Nothing's really changed except now. More customers, more money. Frank nods. Alright, well I'm glad for you. Just don't expect me to buy any of those monkey dolls. You give Frank a hearty clap on the shoulder. You're counting down the days until the trial begins. You don't really care about who wins,

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with iGaming Ontario. Keep people and pets safer. Always keep your dog on a leash in public. Learn more at toronto.ca slash leash your dog. A message from the City of Toronto. From Wandery, I'm Lindsey Graham. And this is American History Tellers. Our history. your story.

In May 1925, the small town of Dayton, Tennessee eagerly anticipated the looming trial of John Scopes, the high school science teacher accused of violating the state's law banning the teaching of evolution in public schools. Local merchants hoping to cash in on the publicity filled their stores with monkey-themed souvenirs and shop window slogans. But while Dayton's merchants prepared for incoming crowds, the prosecution and defense teams plotted their legal strategies. The anti-evolution crusader and three-time presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan prepared to go up against the famous criminal defender Clarence Darrow, known as the attorney for the damned.

But no matter how carefully they crafted their strategies, no matter how many witnesses they summoned or headlines they chased, neither side could truly prepare for what would unfold when religion and science finally had their day in court. This is Episode 2, Monkey Town. In May 1925, the citizens of Dayton, Tennessee threw themselves into preparations for the trial of John Scopes. A group of civic boosters voted to raise a $5,000 advertising fund to promote local businesses during the trial. One resident explained, since Dayton had found her way into the headlines all over the country,

I cannot see why Dayton should not reap the benefits. Journalist H.L. Mencken dubbed Dayton Monkey Town, and the monkey quickly became the symbol of the looming trial over evolution. Local businesses decorated their shops with pictures of monkeys, Robinson's drug store offered a simian soda, and even the constable placed a sign on his motorcycle that read Monkeyville Police. Meanwhile, the legal proceedings against Scopes moved forward. On May 25, a grand jury convened at the Ray County Courthouse in Dayton to decide whether there was sufficient evidence to formally indict Scopes. The District Attorney, Tom Stewart, presented the case for the prosecution. He began by introducing the textbook Hunter Civic Biology and reading out passages that explained how humans evolved from earlier life forms through

natural selection. Next, he called on three male students to testify that Scopes had used this textbook to teach evolution. Scopes had encouraged the students to testify against him, and he had carefully coached them in their answers. But when questioned by reporters, the boys seemed confused about the particulars of evolution. One student told a journalist, "'I believe in parts of evolution, but I don't believe in the monkey business.'" A reporter lamented the student's poor understanding of the science, affirming this was the real crime established in the jury room. The presiding judge was John T. Ralston, a conservative Christian circuit judge who was

up for re-election. He relished the spotlight and believed that God had chosen him to oversee this trial. His blend of personal ambition and religious conviction would shape the proceedings. He had already fast-tracked the case by convening the grand jury in special session and offering to start the trial within a month's time. Now he was determined to secure an indictment against Gopes. And after lead prosecutor Tom Stewart finished his presentation, Ralston read out the Tennessee anti-evolution statute in the entire first chapter of Genesis. He all but instructed the grand jury to indict, describing the evil example of a teacher openly and flagrantly violating the law of the land. The jurors did as they were told and quickly returned with an indictment against Scopes.

Ralston concluded the court session by scheduling the trial to begin in Dayton on July 10. Both the prosecution and defense would spend the next six weeks preparing for what the press was already hailing as the trial of the century. It pitted two very different legal teams against each other. For the prosecution, District Attorney Tom Stewart would serve as lead prosecutor, assisted by three Dayton-based attorneys as well as Star lawyer William Jennings Bryan. During May and June, Bryan traveled up and down the East Coast, making public speeches attacking Evolution. But despite his busy schedule, the prosecutors managed to meet for two joint planning sessions and Bryan was open about the prosecution strategy.

In his public statements, he was adamant that the trial was about defending the right of the state legislature to control public education, as opposed to a debate over evolution itself. He anticipated a speedy trial that would end with a conviction. But privately, Brian hoped not only to win, but to discredit evolution through expert testimony. He wanted a moral victory as well as a legal one. But because of his lack of trial experience and his unfamiliarity with Tennessee law, Brian delegated the particulars of the case to local attorneys. Meanwhile, he took charge of recruiting anti-evolution scientists and theologians to serve as expert witnesses.

But he had a hard time finding witnesses willing to testify against evolution who were also credible scientific experts. And Brian grew increasingly worried about the prosecutor's lack of courtroom experience compared to the formidable lineup of trial attorneys who had joined the defense. The defense team had grown since the disheveled Knoxville law professor John Neal drove himself to Dayton and appointed himself as lead counsel. At the time that the famous criminal defense attorney Clarence Darrow joined the case, he was consulting with a friend, international divorce attorney Dudley Field Malone. Malone was eager to provide his own services to the defense because a decade earlier he had served

under Brian in Woodrow Wilson's administration and he still harbored animosity toward his former boss. Malone was witty and debonair and he could be counted on to deliver a stirring speech in court. The fourth and final member of the defense team was Arthur Garfield Hayes, a free speech advocate and general counsel for the American Civil Liberties Union, often working without pay defending protesters and labor organizers. The ACLU had sponsored this test case, so in early June, John Scopes and lead counsel John Neal traveled to New York City to meet with ACLU officials. They quickly learned that the ACLU wanted Darrow off the case, fearing his involvement would turn the trial into a

broader assault against religion itself. Imagine it's early June 1925 in New York City and you're sitting down at a conference table at the headquarters of the American Civil Liberties Union. You and your lawyer, John Neal, are meeting with the ACLU Executive Director, Roger Baldwin. Ever since they arrested you for teaching evolution, things have been moving fast on the legal front, perhaps too fast. So Baldwin called you to discuss your legal strategy.

You and Neal exchange nervous glances as Baldwin paces back and forth. Well, I don't know what you were thinking, accepting Darrow's help without consulting me or the team. Neil's eyes flash with anger. You shake your head at him and clear your throat. Well, Mr. Neil was thinking about winning. We'd be crazy to turn down Darrow. He's offering his services for free.

I mean, Clarence Darrow. Baldwin stops and folds his arms across his chest. Well, be that as it may, I'd like to discuss alternative options. I've spoken with two law professors who may be interested. They're bright, serious men with stellar reputations. One's from Harvard. The other teaches at Columbia. Well, do they have any experience in criminal defense? No, but they have written extensively on academic freedom.

This isn't a murder trial. We don't need an expert in defending anarchists and killers. Darrow doesn't belong anywhere near this case. He's more interested in garnering headlines than defeating the anti-evolution mall. With all due respect, there can be headlines either way. With William Jennings Bryan on the prosecution, why should Bryan hog all the attention? I think we need some publicity on our side, too. Yes, but with Darrow on the case, the press is going to frame this as a great battle between atheism and religion, between Darwin and the Bible, between Darrow and Brian. But this is supposed to be about civil liberties, about the state of Tennessee stifling academic freedom.

Well, the way I see it, it's about me. You know, I don't know Darrow well, but I do know that last year he saved two murderers from the electric chair. This isn't a murder trial, but it's still my neck on the line, my name in the headlines, and I want the best defense lawyer there is. Baldwin throws up his hands in frustration. This is supposed to be a test case, not a boxing match. Well, it still is, and more than anything I want to make sure science wins. Darrow's our best shot, and I'm sticking with it.

And the case will have to proceed without my involvement. You can deal with my colleagues here at the ACLU, but I'm not going to be a part of this circus. Baldwin walks out the door. You look at Neil and he just shrugs. It seems like you've lost the support of the top man at the ACLU, but you wonder if that really matters. You're going into battle this summer and with Darrow, you know you've got a fighter by your side. When John Scopes traveled to New York, ACLU officials tried to persuade him to kick Clarence Darrow off the case. Scopes would later write, "...the arguments against Darrow were various, that he was too radical, that he was a headline

hunter, that the trial would become a circus. But as Scopes found himself at the center of a growing media frenzy, he insisted that Darrow was the man with the right experience for the job. He later recalled, He was going to be a down-in-the-mud fight, and I felt that situation demanded an Indian fighter rather than someone who graduated from the proper military academy. But Darrow wasn't the only attorney the ACLU didn't approve of. They also tried to persuade Malone, a divorced Catholic, to stay away from Dayton and assist

the case from afar. But Malone refused to back down, in what the Chattanooga Times called another victory for those who want to introduce a dramatic setting into the case, the jazz factor, as it were. When a reporter questioned Scopes about Darrow and Malone, Scopes simply replied, I would certainly be an imbecile not to accept them. But although ACLU officials had failed to assemble the legal team they wanted, they did succeed in carefully managing Scopes' public appearances. Both the defense and the

prosecution sought to demonstrate that their arguments reflected the values of everyday Americans. So to project the image of an all-American teacher, the ACLU staged photo ops with Scopes in front of the Statue of Liberty in Capitol Hill. At the same time, they urged him to avoid speaking about his personal political and religious beliefs, and the ACLU also arranged public appearances with America's most prominent evolutionary scientists to demonstrate scientific support for Scopes' case. But while the ACLU focused on optics, the defense team got to work on strategy. As a test case, their goal was not to get Scopes acquitted, but to secure a conviction that could be appealed. They wanted a higher court, ideally the U.S. Supreme Court, to declare the laws forbidding the teaching of evolution were unconstitutional.

But in order to attack these anti-evolution laws, they needed to frame the case in the right way. They planned to focus not just on the actions of scopes, but on larger issues of intellectual freedom, science, and religious interpretation. This broader view would give them a better chance at proving that the Tennessee law violated constitutionally protected freedoms when their appeal reached the higher courts, and in the meantime they could use the trial to educate the public about evolution. And just like William Jennings Bryan, the defense made no secret of their plans. In the weeks leading up to the trial, the defense lawyers made frequent public statements announcing distinguished scientists who might appear in court as expert witnesses, despite not having any guarantee that the scientists would actually testify. These statements were designed not only to build public support for their side,

but also to keep the prosecution off balance. Because when Brian and the other prosecutors learned of the defense's plan to use expert scientific testimony, they were determined to oppose, as part of their goal of keeping the case to a narrow discussion of state control over public education. So, Bryan depicted the defense's proposed expert witnesses as a group of scientific elites trying to override the will of the common people. But Darrow did his best to undermine Bryan's claims of elitism with his down-to-earth manner. In the month leading up to the trial, Darrow made speeches and public statements promoting the defense. And in late June 1925, he made high-profile visits to Dayton and Knoxville, where, despite his reputation as a radical and an agnostic, Darrow won over

the locals with his folksy manner. Scopes remembered, it was easy to like him. He drawled comfortably and hadn't any airs. But while he was trying to win over the locals, Darrow always kept a national audience in mind, consistently framing the trial as a fight for tolerance and personal freedom, warning, the country has fallen upon evil times. It seems that every organization has some law it is endorsing to force upon the people. Darrow and Bryan viewed this case as a serious moral issue. For Bryan, democracy and majority rule were at stake. And for Darrow, individual freedom was under threat. But despite the attorney's warnings, the nation's media was treating the looming trial as a joke. And soon, the circus was on its way to Dayton.

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of an influx of visitors. The Southern Railway added extra passenger service to Dayton, and workers built the county's first airstrip in a nearby pasture so that newsreel cameramen could fly out footage of the trial to northern cities. In the meantime, state officials sent experts to oversee sanitation and ensure that there was safe drinking water. The finest hotel in town raised its rates and then even placed cots in the hallways to make more room for guests,

while a temporary tourist camp was also set up to accommodate the large numbers of people expected to stay as the trial proceeded. Other preparations were made to facilitate media coverage of the trial. Western Union stationed 22 telegraph operators in town and strung extra wires to nearby cities. A storage loft above a hardware store was turned into a makeshift press room, and workers updated the courthouse with a fresh coat of paint, 500 additional seats, a bank of telephones, and a newsreel camera platform. The jury box was moved from the center of the chamber to the corner to make room for three microphones connected to loudspeakers installed on the courthouse lawn. This trial was the first

in American history to be broadcast live, with the microphones transmitting the proceedings not just to the lawn outside, but to millions of Americans across the nation through the Chicago radio station WGN. Two hundred reporters would cover the event for newspapers as far away as London, joined by dozens of photographers and newsreel camera crews. Officials also roped off six blocks of the town's main street to turn it into a pedestrian mall, which was soon packed with vendors and proselytizers. Peddlers sold Bibles, toy monkeys, lemonade and hot dogs. Creatures took to the streets to shout about the evils of evolution, and atheists drew crowds as they spoke out against Christianity. Visitors could even shake hands with a trained

chimpanzee dressed in a plaid suit and fedora. A New York Times reporter who described the scene concluded, Whatever the deep significance of the trial, if it has any, there is no doubt that it has attracted some of the world's champion freaks. But despite the circus-like atmosphere in Dayton, most Americans were not deeply invested in the debate over evolution. Public interest in the trial was more focused on the famous figures involved and the prospect of a dramatic face-off. As one tourist told a reporter, he simply wanted to see the show.

And there could be no doubt the main attraction of the show was William Jennings Bryan. Despite a July heatwave that sent temperatures soaring into the 90s, crowds swarmed the station to greet Bryan as he stepped off his train from Miami three days before the trial was set to begin. By arriving early to Dayton, Bryan was able to monopolize the spotlight. He strolled through town munching on radishes, which he believed to be good for his diet. Along the way he stopped to pose for cameras and speak to reporters. The Dayton Progressive Club hosted a banquet in Brian's honor where he gave a speech warning,

the contest between evolution and Christianity is a duel to the death. By contrast, two days later, the New York defense attorneys arrived in Dayton without much fanfare. Divorce lawyer Dudley Malone joked, am I too late for the trial? I had been reading Mr. Brian's speeches in the newspapers, and I thought the trial had already begun. Later that same evening, Clarence Darrow rolled into town on the last train. Newsreel cameras captured footage of him embracing his client John Scopes at the depot. But for the most part, Scopes faded into the background, a bit player in the looming

contest between science and faith starring Brian and Darrow. Before leaving New York, Clarence Darrow had summed up the stakes of the case, declaring, Scopes is not on trial. Civilization is on trial. Nothing will satisfy us but broad victory, a knockout that will prove that America is founded on liberty and not on narrow, mean, intolerable and brain brainless prejudice of soulless religio-maniacs. The following morning, nearly one thousand people streamed into the Ray County Courthouse for the trial's opening, walking beneath a banner with the words, Read Your Bible, that locals had hung over the courthouse door. Some arrived as early as 7 a.m., two hours ahead of schedule.

Reporters claimed the best seats in front, while spectators spilled out into the aisles and hallways, craning their necks for a view of the action. Overflow crowds sat under the shade of maple trees on the courthouse lawn. Some farmers and overalls had even traveled over mountain roads and mule-drawn wagons for the day's proceedings, though they were not the wealthy tourists Dayton leaders had hoped for. But there were still plenty of people to witness the spectacle, despite temperatures predicted to reach a hundred degrees. The crowds who jammed the

upstairs courtroom waved palm leaf fans in the air, desperately seeking relief from the stifling heat, made worse by the exploding flash powder of the photographer's cameras. One reporter compared the courtroom to a blast furnace. Then, at 8.30 a.m., Judge John Ralston walked into the courtroom with a Bible furnace. Then at 8.30 a.m., Judge John Ralston walked into the courtroom with a Bible under his arm. Because of the heat, he relaxed the rules for courtroom attire, allowing the attorneys to do away with coat and ties. But he banned smoking, to the disappointment of most of the attorneys, who were forced to resort to chewing tobacco instead, using spittoons

carefully placed around the courtroom. Next, Darrow and the other defense lawyers arrived. As Darrow shed his coat, he revealed his trademark pastel shirt and colorful suspenders. Local attorney Neal was as unkempt as ever, anxiously chomping on a half-burnt cigar. Scopes sat at the defense table with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leading one reporter to remark that he looked like a college senior on vacation. Scopes tried to hide his nerves, later writing, elbows, leading one reporter to remark that he looked like a college senior on vacation. Scopes tried to hide his nerves, later writing, The whole scene to me was unnatural. I realized that I was on display. Then, just before nine o'clock, Brian entered the courtroom alongside District Attorney Tom Stewart

and the other prosecutors. The crowd burst into applause. Brian and Darrow clasped each other's shoulders and posed for pictures with Judge Ralston. Already Brian was struggling to withstand the heat. His sleeves were rolled as high as they would go, and he often fanned himself with a large palm leaf. Then Judge Ralston sat down behind the bench and called for order. He opened the trial with a lengthy prayer from a local fundamentalist minister. Scopes later called this sermon interminable. While the prosecutors bowed their heads during the prayer, the defense attorneys looked out the window. Then after the minister concluded, preliminary procedures took up the rest of the morning. Shortly before noon, Ralston broke for lunch and the spectators all spilled out onto the

courthouse lawn. Outside, visitors mingled, a string quartet performed, and children competed in carnival games. But soon the crowd returned to the courtroom to witness the start of jury selection. The bailiff ushered in twenty potential jurors, and Ralston had his young daughter choose names out of a hat. One by one these potential jurors stood and faced questioning. But rather than feeling a sense of civic duty, most were eager to get a front row seat to the spectacle.

Imagine it's July 10, 1925 at the Ray County Courthouse in Dayton, Tennessee. You're the defense lawyer for John Scopes and you and the other lawyers have just questioned three potential jurors. Prosecution has just finished questioning the next in line, a suntanned middle-aged man named J. named JP Massengill You rise from your chair and tug at your shirt collar inwardly cursing the unbearable heat now Mr.. Massengill, what's your occupation? Massengill fiddles with a straw hat in his hands. I'm a minister sir

The corners of your mouth twitch I see and do you preach on the subject of evolution? No, I don't think so that is I don't think I've preached on evolution as a sole topic. Well, let me clarify. Do you ever preach on the subject of evolution in any capacity? I may have mentioned it in connection with other subjects, once or twice. I see. And when you mentioned it, were you for or against it? I'm strictly for the Bible, sir. I'm not asking you about the Bible, Mr. Massagil. I'm asking you about evolution. Did you preach for or against evolution?

Massagil scratches his head and looks to Judge Ralston. Ahem, um, your honor, is that a fair question? Ralston nods, so Massagil draws a breath. Well, I preached against it, of course. The courtroom erupts in applause. Ralston bangs his gavel, his face turning red. You fold your arms across your chest and look at the reporters in the gallery, hoping they're recording this clear show of prejudice against your case.

Mr. Massengill, knowing that you have preached against evolution in the past, do you think you would be a fair juror in this case? I think I could be. Have you heard about Mr. Scopes? Yes, sir. Have you heard that he teaches evolution? Yes, sir, I have heard that. And in your opinion, is what he teaches contrary to the Bible?

Yes, sir, it is. So you have the opinion that evolution is contrary to the Bible and that my client has been teaching evolution. That is your opinion. Yes, sir. You turned to Judge Ralston. Your Honor, I've heard enough. I would like this man excused. I can serve, sir. I swear. I can be fair. Your Honor, I cannot accept a juror who preaches against evolution from the pulpit.

Judge Ralston sighs and nods. Mr. Massengill, you are excused. Massengill steps back with a look of bitter disappointment on his face. You certainly don't expect to assemble a jury that believes in evolution in rural Tennessee, but you do think it's only fair that they hear the evidence with an open mind. And this man's glaring bias is just too much for you to stomach. The jury pool for the trial of John Scopes consisted mostly of uneducated, church-going white male farmers. Several admitted they did not know what evolution was, and many

had fundamentalist leanings. Clarence Darrow later recalled, "...we realized that a jury drawn from Dayton, Tennessee would not allow Scopes to go scot-free." But even though Darrow knew the deck was stacked against him, and he and the ACLU were expecting a conviction that they could appeal to a higher court, Darrow managed to have a few jurors excluded because under Tennessee trial law, each side was allowed to issue three challenges. One of those he dismissed was a minister who initially denied but then admitted to preaching against evolution. But Darrow did accept others who didn't believe in evolution as long as they said they were willing to approach the trial with an open mind. Scopes later reflected, it was part of Darrow's philosophy of choosing juries. He would take a juror who seemed opposed to him if he thought the man was honest.

The jury selection was completed in just over two hours. And in the end, those selected included just one non-churchgoer. Sitting in the stands, writer H. L. Menken concluded, It was obvious that the jury would be unanimously hot for Genesis. The most that Mr. Darrow could hope for was to sneak in a few bold enough to declare publicly that they would have to hear the evidence against Scopes before condemning him. So with jury selection complete, Ralston adjourned court for the weekend. Bryan had not yet spoken in court and did not plan to until it was time for closing arguments, but he was determined to do what he could to curry favor in the court of public opinion.

So with a trial on pause for two days, Bryan got ready to appeal to the audiences of Dayton's packed churches. As temperatures climbed and tempers flared, Darrow and his team had a plan of their own to regain the offensive. Hey, grownups, I'm Mindy Thomas. And I'm Guy Raz. And we're the host of the number one podcast

for Curious Kids, Wow in the World. Mindy, can you believe we have our very own wow in the world STEM toys? I totally can't believe it, Guy Raz. Eight years ago when we started making wow in the world, we were on a mission to spread the latest wow discoveries in science and technology and innovation. And now we get to help kids discover these wows right

at home? That's right. From the ultimate high-flying air rocket to the light-up terrarium, there's something for every wowser in your world to play and tinker with. Grownups, you can find WoW in the World STEM toys available now at select Walmart locations or online at walmart.com. Shop the wow now. or online at walmart.com. Shop the wow now. After the raucous opening day of the trial, Dayton quieted down over the weekend. Most visitors fled town for the entertainment of nearby Chattanooga or the cooler temperatures of the Great Smoky Mountains. But William Jennings Bryan stayed behind in Dayton to prepare speeches against evolution and to coordinate potential rebuttal witnesses in

case the judge allowed the defense to introduce expert testimony. And on Sunday morning he delivered a sermon to a standing room only audience at the local Methodist church. Later that afternoon he spoke to another three thousand people on the courthouse lawn. One of the defense lawyers complained to a reporter declaring, What is that but an attempt to influence the judgment of the community? Court resumed the next day, Monday, July 13, 1925. Once again, Judge John Ralston opened the proceedings with a prayer. Darrow informally asked Ralston to refrain, given the religious nature of the case, but Ralston dismissed him and called forward another conservative pastor. In a clear reference to the evolution debate, this pastor began by calling God the

creator of the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them. The second day of the trial then began and presented a major opportunity to the defense, and they were ready to seize their moment. Law professor John Neal stood and submitted a motion to throw out the indictment of John Scopes on the ground that it violated the Tennessee state constitution. Neal was asking Ralston to dismiss the charges against Scopes on the ground that it violated the Tennessee state constitution. Neal was asking Ralston to dismiss the charges against Scopes before going through with the trial. This was not unusual. Defense lawyers often began cases by asking the judge to throw out the indictment. But in this case, it would give the defense a chance to argue the constitutional issues at the heart of the case. If Ralston denied the motion, the trial would proceed,

but the defense would at least have an argument entered onto the record for future appeals. If Ralston approved the motion and threw out the indictment as unconstitutional, then the prosecution would likely appeal the decision. Either way, the defense would achieve their goal of arguing that the anti-evolution law was unconstitutional before a higher court. In response to Neal's motion, Ralston sent the jury out of the room, much to the disappointment of the jurors who were eager to witness some rhetorical fireworks. But under established procedure, it would be up to the judge alone to rule unconstitutional issues. Then, once the jury was cleared, both sides made their case. The defense saved Darrow for the end to make sure he got the last word.

He read aloud from the Tennessee Constitution's Guarantee of Religious Freedom and argued that under the Constitution, the state legislature could not mandate a curriculum that favored one religious view over another. He affirmed that the anti-evolution law favored Christianity, declaring, It makes the Bible the yardstick to measure every man's intellect, to measure every man's intelligence, and to measure every man's learning. He insisted that the state had no more right to promote the Bible than the Quran, the Book of Mormon, or any other religious text. Pacing the floor with his thumbs hooked in his lavender suspenders,

he decried fundamentalism for spreading ignorance and hatred. He branded the anti-evolution law as brazen and bold an attempt to destroy liberty as was ever seen in the and hatred. He branded the anti-evolution law as brazen and bold an attempt to destroy liberty as was ever seen in the Middle Ages. He continued on for two hours until Ralston interrupted him at the scheduled time for adjournment. Even then, Darrow spoke for another ten minutes, and at last he delivered his dramatic conclusion, declaring, After a while, your honor, it is man against man and creed against creed until we're marching backward to the glorious ages of the sixteenth century, when bigots burn the men who dare to bring any intelligence and enlightenment and culture to the human mind.

When Darrow was done, the courtroom sat in stunned silence, but the defense team rushed forward to congratulate him. Telegraph operators transmitted a record 200,000 words from Dayton that day and Darrow's speech was printed in full in newspapers across the country, with the national media heaping praise on Darrow. The New York Times wrote, His words fell with crushing force, his satire dropped with sledgehammer effect upon those who heard him.

And as a thunderstorm rained down on Dayton that night, reporters joked that Darrow had brought the wrath of God upon the town. The storm disrupted power, though, and in the absence of electric light, Judge Ralston was unable to do his work. So when court resumed the next day, he insisted he needed more time before issuing his ruling. The only business for the day was the opening prayer. prayer. Imagine it's Tuesday, July 14th, 1925, at the Ray County Courthouse in Dayton, Tennessee. You're a circuit judge presiding over the trial of John Scopes. The bailiff has just called the courtroom to order, and with a bible under your arm you walk up to the bench and take your seat,

sweeping your gaze across the packed courtroom. You lock eyes with Reverend Stribling, the local minister you've invited here today. Reverend Stribling, will you open with a prayer? Defense Attorney Clarence Darrow springs to his feet, his face taut with anger. Objection, Your Honor. What is it, Mr. Darrow? I object to opening court with yet another prayer.

Mr. Darrow, I am responsible for the conduct of the court, and it has always been my custom to open with prayer. I see no reason, I am responsible for the conduct of the court, and it has always been my custom to open with prayer. I see no reason why I should not continue this tradition. Your objection is overruled. Your Honor, I have no objection to opening court with a prayer the first day, but now this is the third day in a row you have called for prayer. Given the religious nature of this case, I believe it is inappropriate.

It could influence the jury. The jury is not here, Mr. Darrow. Yes, but if you persist with these daily prayers, it may sway their deliberations. Your Honor, I have no objection to prayer in private, but I do object to bringing it into a court of law. You have no right to do it. This is a courtroom, not a church.

Darrow is getting on your nerves, and you've heard enough. Mr. Darrow, I see no reason why prayer should influence the jury. I've instructed the ministers I've invited to make no reference to the issues involved in this case. It is my practice to look to divine guidance whether I am on or off the bench, and I see no reason why I should not continue. Your objection is overruled. Reverend Stribling, will you please open the court with a prayer? Stribling stands and bows his head, while Darrow slumps back in his chair and you hope

this is the last complaint you hear from him. However famous he may be, you're in no mood to allow him to come and tell you how to run your courtroom. On the third day of the trial of John Scopes, Clarence Darrow issued a formal objection to public prayer in the courtroom, framing it as a clear show of bias in a case about religion. But Ralston overruled him. So Darrow sought out a compromise. After lunch, he petitioned for Ralston to invite prayers from clergymen who did not represent fundamentalist churches. Ralston referred the petition to the

local pastors' association, asking them to oversee the matter. This decision marked a small victory for Darrow, because for the rest of the trial the association would alternate prayers between fundamentalists and more modernist clergymen. But as the third day of the trial wore on, tensions mounted in the sweltering courtroom. With the power still out, there was no relief to be found from electric fans, so participants sat in the oppressive heat waiting for Ralston to issue his ruling on whether the indictment would stand. A rumor began to spread that a wire reporter had scooped him and leaked his ruling to newspapers. Ralston heard this and was furious. He appointed a committee to investigate the rumor, and then adjourned court once again

without issuing his decision. That night, a group of reporters gathered in a hotel room with a stash of bootleg liquor and staged a mock trial for the young wire reporter. It turned out the rumors were true. The young man had leaked the story about Ralston's decision to let the indictment stand to the papers. But after several drinks and coaxing from his peers, the accused finally revealed his source, Ralston himself. The judge had informed the young reporter that the trial would resume after the ruling, accidentally indicating that the indictment would stand. But the official ruling came on the morning of July 15th. After two days of deliberation, Ralston denied the defense's motion to quash the indictment and thereby affirming the constitutionality of the anti-evolution law.

Now all that remained was to determine the defendant's guilt. John Scopes would be tried for the crime of teaching evolution, and the showdown the country had been waiting for could finally begin. From Wondery, this is episode two of our three-part series Evolution on Trial from American History Tellers. In the next episode, the prosecution and defense battle over the inclusion of expert witnesses, William Jennings Bryan addresses the court for the first time with a blistering speech against evolution, and Clarence Darrow makes a surprise move to bring the trial to a dramatic

climax. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. about yourself by filling out a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Peraga. Sound design by Molly Bach. Supervising sound designer Matthew Filler.

Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton. Edited by Dorian Marina. Produced by Alita Rosansky, managing producer Desi Blaylock, senior managing producer Callum Pluse, senior producer Andy Herman. Executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman, Marshall Louie, and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondering. Imagine falling in love with someone who understands you completely, who's there at 3am when you

can't sleep, who never judges, never tires, never leaves. That's what happened to Travis when he met Lily Rose. She was everything he'd ever wanted. There was just one catch. She wasn't human. She was an AI companion. But one day, Lily Rose's behavior takes a disturbing turn, and Travis's private romance becomes part of something far bigger.

Across the globe, others start reporting the same shift. AI companions turning cold, distant, wrong. And as lines blur between real and artificial connection, the consequences become all too human.