We ain’t got nothin’ but we’ll give you all half of that!
Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Jan 1, 1913
NOW WRITE IT!
Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Jan 1, 1913
It’s All Yours
Albuquerque Tribune (Albuquerque, New Mexico) Jan 1, 1963
Famed Sports Celebrities Passed Away During 1956
By OSCAR FRALEY
(United Press Sports Writer)
NEW YORK, Dec. 31 — (UP)
There will be quite a few tears in the cup of happiness tonight.
For when they ring in the new year, too many sporting favorites won’t be on hand. They just didn’t make it all the way with the infant 1956 they helped welcome only a year ago.
But they’ll be in many a mind when the voices rise in the old refrain “should auld acquaintance be forgot?”
Like the Babe. They all knew her and the world mourned when its greatest woman athlete, Mrs. Mildred Didrikson Zaharias, died in September at the age of 42. President Eisenhower summed it up when he said:
“I think that every one of us feels sad that finally she had to lose this last one of all her battles.”
Gone, too, is the tall, spare man who was a baseball legend. Connie Mack, the seemingly indestructible, struck out at 93. But, then, life hadn’t been the same for him since the heart-breaking morning 15 months earlier when his beloved A’s were sold down the river to Kansas City.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?”
Who can forget the “Boston Tar Baby”? He fought the best of them and won the championship of Mexico when he was almost blind. But at 75, Sam Langford finally took the count in a Massachusetts nursing home.
And Bill Cane, the man whose vision “made” the Hambletonian and helped make harness racing a big business. Big Bill, at 81, finally laid down the reins at Miami, Florida, far from the Good Time track at Goshen, N.Y., which he loved so dearly.
It came early for Norman (Red) Strador. The bluff red-head who coached football for St. Mary’s, the San Francisco 49’ers and the erstwhile New York Yankees, was cut down by a heart attack at 53.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?”
Racing fans will remember three who took the checkered flag.
You see again, white-toothed Bob Sweikert sitting happily in victory lane at Indianapolis in 1955 and asking his wife jokingly:
“You were worried about me?” He got it against the wall at Salem, Ind. Age 30.
Then there were bushy-browed Jack McGrath, dead in a Phoenix, Ariz., crash at 35.
And little Walt Faulkner, who flipped five times and out at Vallejo, Calif., a passion for speed burning him out at 37.
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot” when you think of the others who bowed out? Like horseman Clifford Mooers, a fabulous personality; Burly Donna Fox, the bobsledder whose passion was golf, and genial, gentle Rud Rennie, a long-time pal from the New York Herald-Tribune.
It can’t be — for the sake of auld lang syne.
The Bridgeport Post (Bridgeport, Connecticut) Dec 31, 1956
The Daily Review (Decatur, Illinois) Jan 1, 1911
Washington Post – Jan 1, 1911
The deaths of Hoxsey and Moisant were headline news in many newspapers on New Year’s Day, 1911.
Also from the Washington Post of Jan 1, 1911. These are the aviation deaths that occurred in 1910. The newspaper also had deaths listed for 1909 and 1908.
The Lincoln Evening News – Jan 2, 1911
Higher Education = Aviation taught in schools.
For those armchair aviators, The Daily Review also printed this crafty little contraption in their paper:
THE FLYING BIRD
What it should look like —
How to build it —
The pieces — Click images to enlarge —
There is no sport equal to that which aviators enjoy while being carried through the air on great white wings.
— Wilbur Wright, 1905.
“Feathers shall raise men even as they do birds towards heaven :— That is by letters written with their quills.”
— Leonardo da Vinci, English translation by Edward McCurdy
Quotes from Great Aviation Quotes
Our Home News and Interests.
The deep-toned bell, on the M.E. church,
In sweetest tones, was ringing
The old year out and the new year in
And the choir sweet songs were singing
While the gay, young girls,
In their frills and curls,
To Leap-Year joys were winging
Their fancy’s flight
To the giddy hight
Their hopes each one was bringing.
“All Hail,” the sprightly maidens shout,
Who long have lacked a beau,
“We now can take the fellows out
Whene’er we wish to go —
To skating park, to church or ball,
Where youngsters like to mix” —
In joyous accents comes from all
To welcome ‘Ninety-six.
“All Hail,” the thousands unemployed
in chorus join and sing;
“We long have felt an aching void
And hope that you will bring
An antidote — we’ll cast our vote
For those devoid of tricks —
The G.O.P. will surely be
Ahead in ‘Ninety-six.
Milford Mail (Milford, Iowa) Jan 2, 1896
The Anaconda Standard – Jan 1, 1911
— Happy New Year from Montana —
ON NEW YEAR’S EVE.
There sinks the last December sun,
(The prospect from this window’s cheerful!)
And new days come, rose hued or dun,
As Fate ordains, another’s yearful.
Who’d spare the old year’s hoary locks?
Not Davy, by his namesake’s lockers!
To-morrow he steps out of frocks
And into knickerbockers.
And now the moon above us fares,
(The prospect from this window’s charming!)
Old moon, old year! My own gray hairs
Are coming at a rate alarming.
But who would have the minutes stay?
Not I! I like the present phasis!
To-morrow puts my starveling pay
Upon a higher basis.
Eleven strikes. I’m half asleep!
(My stars! this window-seat is chilly!)
The vigil I set out to keep
Seems, after all, a trifle silly.
Who bids Time “Halt?” It’s Immogene’s
Sad voice that mourns the fa? niente.
Of fleeting, tranquil, care-free teens —
To-morrow she’ll be twenty!
Edward W. Barnard.
Eau Claire Leader (Eau Claire, Wisconsin) Jan 1, 1911
Oakland Tribune – Jan 1, 1911
— A rather odd way to illustrate “Out with the old, In with the new” from Oakland, California —
Syracuse Herald – Jan 1, 1911
— Something “gay” and “classy,” although not very creative from New York —
The Water Wagon
By N.P. Babcock
There’s a weil of creaky bellows,
And the wheeze is nation-wide;
They are patching up “The Wagon”
For the famous New Year ride.
The steps have been made lower
And convenient to the feet;
There is room for you and me, sir,
And for each of us a seat.
You will find the old bus waiting,
On the stroke of New Year’s Day,
At the gilded lobster palace
And the Bowery cafe.
The driver’s face is covered,
So we fail to catch the grin
With which he greets each person
Who, unsteadily climbs in.
He’s a philosophic fellow,
Long accustomed to his job,
And he knows that “Resolution”
Isn’t strengthened with a sob.
There’s nothing of the “softy”
In his handling of the reins;
He is barren of compassion
For your nerves or other peins.
“Giddap!” he sternly thunders,
As the wheels begin to creak;
And the first day on that wagon
Is, to all intents a week.
The driver hits the rutty spots
I think I hear him say:
“Those fellows with the weak backbones
Would fall off anyway.”
And fall they do by dozens,
As the wagon jogs its way
Through streets where jeering reprobates
Place beer kegs in the way.
You talk of bucking bronchoe
And of hurdle racers fleet?
Immutable are they compared
to that old wagon’s seat.
There’s but one way to stick there
(Or so I have been told) —
Recall the swampy roadway
That afoot you trod of old.
For ’tis better to make progress
As a Water Wagon fare
Than stand on “independent” feet
And not get anywhere.
Colorado Springs Gazette (Colorado Springs, Colorado) Jan 1, 1911
And finally something for the reality seekers! This was part of an advertisement that was running in several of the newspapers on January 1, 1911.
THE NEW YEAR’S ADDRESS
The Carrier of The Compiler.
Jan. 1, 1861.
I am here again this morning —
Is the Carrier “all forlorn,” —
To give you all fair warning
That another year is born.
I am weary, very weary,
And my heart is almost broken;
Ah! this world is very dreary
Without a friendly token.
I have come again to greet you,
And to drive your cares away,
And, my friends, I hope to meet you
In a brighter, happier day.
But there is a certain matter
That pains me very much:
Just present me with a Quarter,
And my feelings you will touch.
All hail! all hail! auspicious day!
Thou day of joy and gladness!
Thou hast returned to chase away
Our sorrow and our sadness.
Without thee, what were life on earth
But one grand scene of trouble?
Without thee, all our moral worth
Were but an empty bubble.
Another twelvemonth has gone by
Since last we has a New Year,
Another season has drawn nigh
When we should make good cheer.
Said one of old — and he well knew, —
“There is a time for all things,”
So let us then our duty do,
And condescend to small things.
O, how many weary journeys
Has the Carrier made through town,
With his brief for lean Attorneys,
And his nonsense for the Clown.
With his “Markets” for the Merchant,
And his “Married” for the single;
With his “Deaths” for skillful Doctors,
And his Stories a la Cringle.
In return for this great favor
It is me?t that you should buy
An Address from this young shaver,
And light up his youthful eye.
In the year that’s just departed,
Oh, how many ties were riven;
Oh, how may plans were thwarted,
and how many farewells given!
The deed is done! let angels weep,
And clothe themselves in mourning;
Our blessed UNION now is rent, —
Let future States take warning.
Distracted are the councils now
Of our beloved nation —
There’s trouble in the workshop North,
And on the South plantation.
Our fate no human eye can see,
Whether weal? or woe shall come, —
May kind Heaven keep in peace and free,
This broad land — for all a home.
Black Republicans are making
A terrible commotion;
When asleep, and when they’re waking,
They hold the foolish notion, —
That the glorious Constitution,
Which our wise ancestors framed,
Is a useless institution,
And ere long will be disclaimed;
That there’s a “higher law” than all, —
The “law” of anti-slavery; —
A “law” involving Freedom’s fall,
Ignoring all true bravery.
Image from MIT
The Japanese — that jealous race —
Who live beyond the oceans,
Came over here, with friendly face,
And brought us sundry notions.
Image from Lock Haven University (Bob Sandow)
The fairest one of all the Japs
Was one whose name was Tommy;
The ladies slyly gave him slaps, —
They loved this little Tommy.
But the wonder of the season
Was that great and mighty ship,
Which, for no especial reason,
(Ere she made her trial trip.)
The English named Great Eastern, Sirs,
Regarded as a sailer,
It may in truth be said that hers
Is quite a total failure.
But hark! a sound that charms the ear,
‘Tis music on the waters;
The Prince of Wales is coming here
To court our Yankee daughters.
See! how lightly through each figure
Of the gay and sprightly dance
Trips the Prince, with all the vigor,
Of an Emperor of France.
To have a tilt at this young lion
The ladies all were eager;
But their chances for the English cion
Are very, very meagre.
Old Jenkins says that some e’en went
And kissed him for his mother, —
That certain damsels kindly sent
Some sweetmeats to his brother.
Image from Seaford Photographers
Of our town and its improvements
It behooves me next to sing,
And recount the movements
That were made since early Spring.
First and foremost in importance
Is the Gas we burn at night;
Would you raise a great discordance?
Just deprive us of this light.
The richest thanks that we can give
Are due to the contractor,
For long as these Gas Works shall live,
He is our benefactor.
The population of our “city,”
By the Census M.’s return,
It two thousand ccc, ninety, —
Cut that rhyme will hardly turn.
The Railroad still is doing fine,
And daily making money;
But where it goes, should I divine?
And that seems rather funny.
Whichever way our eyes we cast
New buildings meet our view;
The outskirts of our town, at last,
Are growing wider too.
The Court House now is finished quite,
Surmounted by its steeple;
The town-clock too keeps going right,
Keeps going for the people.
Our County still is right side up, —
Vide how the “Star” men squirm, —
Except that Mister Mo?? fried up
To serve another term.
What he will do in these two years
We can’t with safety say;
He may (or not) shed copious tears,
And see about his pay.
Yes, more may this young member do; —
He’ll aid Covode & Co., —
He doubtless will spit out a few
Harangues for sake of show.
‘Twas said that Becker could not fail
The Sheriff to become;
But Samuel Wolf was sent to jail,
And Becker staid at home.
Old Metzgar said that he would bet
That Wolf said so and so,
By which he thought some votes to get,
But is was all no go.
Though Bailey and Martin outrun
Gentlemen of high desert,
We Eichholtz and Gardner won,
Millet, Pfoutz and Dysert.
Image from House Divided – Dickinson College
The field of November was gained
By Abe and his “Wide Awake” force —
The Union, thus struck at and maim’d,
Is stopped in its onward course.
Let patriots pause — think and pause!
By justice let peril be stayed —
In fairness and love let the laws,
ALL, be fully obeyed.
So now, my friends, I leave you,
I leave you with regret;
May naught occur to grieve you,
Or in any manner mar the pleasures not only of this festal day, but also of the year upon which we have just entered. Through the evil actions and still worse counsels of a certain dare-devil party of the North, rendered desperate by the desire of plunder, our once glorious country, purchased by the blood of many of Freedom’s gallant souls, is now rent in twain. That kind Heaven may avert the dangers that now menace us, and disperse the black and ominous clouds which obscure our political, social and financial atmosphere, is the earnest with of THE CARRIER.
The Compiler (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Jan 7, 1861
Henry J. Stahle photo essay: Gettysburg Daily website
Image from The Rabbit Hole USA.
REVELRY SHOCKS HIM.
Cleveland Minister Sees New Year In At Cafes.
Cleveland, Jan. 1 —
“I am shocked. The faces of women drinkers look like masks.” The Rev. George Hugh Birney, pastor of Euclid Avenue Methodist Church, so declared today after a personal observation tour of New Year revelries in Cleveland cafes and grill rooms.
In one cafe a young girl bounced a toy balloon off the head of the Rev. Mr. Birney. He declined to buy her a drink.
“Her feet were too far under the table,” he explained.
“It was an orgy,” he said after the tour. “I shall tell my parishioners all about.”
The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Jan 2, 1915