Steve Gibbs. File photo
I found an old newspaper in a trunk many years ago, wrapped it in plastic and kept it. The headlines and stories reflect a different age of reporting as well as insight into what life was like 115 years ago.
I looked at it again recently and, once more, I became fascinated with its ability to allow a mental wade into the past, as well as how some things haven’t changed much over the years.
The evening edition of the Nov. 2, 1909, New York World reports events in an America totally distant from today, but with the same snake oil dealers, crooked politicians and people still doing stupid things.
The multi-layered headline on the front page reads: “Cheater mauled on big liner.” One of three sub-heads tells us: “U.S. Army officer thrashes a cheater.”
In classic tabloid fashion, the cheater was detected: “Lieut. Granville Fortescue, U.S.A., retired and one-time a Roosevelt aide at the White House, was the hero of the episode. He detected a sharper cheating at dice, went after him in the true Rooseveltian method and wiped up the smoking-room floor with him.”
It was described as “ . . . the most exciting smoking-room episode that has occurred aboard a trans-Atlantic liner in many years. . . . The ‘villain’ in the drama’ was described as a Mr. Gilbert Hilton, who was groomed to the minute and his military mustache was groomed to a point. He bore himself with an air of supreme distinction. His accent was broadly British and a monocle blossomed in his pale blue eyes.”
No word on his injuries.
Along with the Nov. 2 edition -- a rare document reporting election returns -- I found four pages of the Nov. 23 edition as well.
I had taped together eight of this 14-page edition of Joseph Pulitzer, Jr’s, now extinct daily paper. Let me remind you of what was going on then. President William Howard Taft, born in 1857 in Cincinnati and the Republican President, was touring Mississippi by train. He defeated William Jennings Bryant the year before.
William Randolph Hurst was a candidate for Mayor of New York City; bread was 5 cents a loaf; a well-constructed oak or mahogany bookcase went for $3.15; it was Election Day, a Tuesday of course, and governors were being chosen in Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Virginia.
From the file of events lost to history, in Nov. 23, 1909, edition, more than 20,000 Yiddish-speaking immigrants, mostly young women in their teens and early twenties, launched an 11-week general strike in New York's shirtwaist industry. Dubbed the Uprising of the 20,000, it was the largest strike by women to date in American history.
The strikers won only a portion of their demands, but the uprising sparked five years of revolt that transformed the garment industry into one of the best-organized trades in the United States.
Under the heading of “stupid” comes this story:
Three young New York men walked into a costume shop. They are well-dressed and tell the owner they are invited to a very fancy Thanksgiving party and need elegant costumes. One picked out a cowboy outfit, another found a King William, a third Mary Queen of Scots. They try on their costumes and, at a signal, they all bolt through the door.
However, one man could not control the train that followed his Mary Queen of Scots costume, and he fell. That allowed the two lady owners to pounce on him and pin him down until the police could arrive.
But, by far, the leading news was the election of mayors, and city councilmen around the five boroughs. As you will see, things were not much different then.
In the Lower East side of Manhattan there were several arrests for voting fraud. The Magistrate court opened an hour early anticipating election fraud. Over 200 people went through that courtroom that day, many released through clerical errors but a couple of dozen found guilty of trying to stuff the ballot box.
The World covered election news as far away as Kentucky.
In Breathitt County, Kentucky, a gang burned a home to the ground knowing local election ballots were inside. The previous week a gang had tried to steal the ballots from a bank, so they were given to Mrs. Mary Dealin to hold. Her home was protected by armed guards but “they were unable to protect the home and the ballots from the vandals who burned her house to the ground.”
The ads in this old newspaper make interesting reading as well. Women’s shoes sold for $3 to $5; “apron ginghams in good plaids and stripes,” 4 cents; “choice cut sirloin steaks, 15 cents a pound;” “Dillon’s Old Irish whiskey, normally $1, now just 88 cents a bottle.”
My 1909 copy of the New York World initially cost a penny.
Those great low prices might not seem so low as the average wage was $1to $3 a day.
Life then was less complicated with no cell phones, no TV and no income tax. At the same time people had to chop wood to cook and to keep their homes warm in winter. Most families grew their own vegetables. Transportation was by horse unless you were one of the few who could afford a “Tin Lizzie.” The average life span for men was 50.5 years, and 53.8 years for women.
I, for one, am thankful to live in the 21st century.
A former college English teacher, truck driver, sailor, business owner, factory worker, investigative reporter and family man, Steve Gibbs has spent his life learning, observing people and, since 2010, writing novels of fiction. He grows vegetables in his backyard and enjoys adventures with his wife, Jane. Contact him at gibbsail43@gmail.com