Yesterday's News: The Shangri-La

When the United States government formally announced that the Doolittle raid -- a flight of B-17s over Tokyo in early 1942 -- had been carried out, President Roosevelt informed a reporter that the bombers had been launched from a secret base in "Shangri-La", an island from a novel popular at the time.   I was thus intrigued to see this ad while searching for obituaries in 1943, encouraging Americans to buy stamps to support the building of the  "mystery ship" Shangri-La. I assumed this was a codename,  but it proves to have been the actual name: a USS Shangri-La was laid down in January 1943, completed in early '44, and put into service in the autumn of that year.   An Essex-class carrier, the ship participated in late-war bombing raids against the Japanese home islands, so this is a rare case of an advertisement getting fairly close to the mark.  According to Wikipedia, the ship served through Vietnam, specializing in anti-submarine warfare,  and was retired in 1974.   Although I'm familiar with war bond campaigns, this is the first I've encountered where bonds or stamps were linked to a specific project, in this case a bonafide ship. 

Yesterday's News: Shrinkwrapped Sunbather

"It takes a lot of sand to wear this costume, which is 80 per cent cellophane. The other 10 percent is bathing suit. It's the newest fad at Malibu beach, playspot of the Hollywood film colony. June Clyde is shown here is a cellophane wrapper keeping her schoolgirl complexion nice and fresh. Under the cellophane, so they say, the skin receives all the benefits of ultra-violent sun, producing tan without sunburn. Save the surface and you save all!"

From an April 1932 newspaper.

Yesterday's News

Recently I had occasion to review the front pages of virtually all of 1918, or at least from January to late September. I didn't find what I was looking for, in part because the Great War consumed the papers, but I did see a few things of interest that I wanted to share.

This headline is a lot less interesting when you learn that Cyclops is the name of a ship.

The Little Tank That Could

Oh, I bet they'll "take care" of the Pacific. It's getting them to leave it alone that will be the problem.

I love puns based on alarmingly racist yet technically innovative epic films!

Somehow I doubt that this will be a reasonable and fact-based biopic. The Academy of Music, the oddly-named theater downtown, ran new shows seemingly every day in the period I searched. Admittedly, this is 1918 and production/postproduction time aren't nearly as elaborate as they are today.  Take a look at  another:

Aw, remember the days when DC asked Americans for money instead of just taking it  or printing more? 

Trenton redux!

The Spring or Ludendorf Offensive. Reading the papers through from January to late September I was struck by how knife's-edge the war seemed to be, with panicked reports that the French were in retreat posted side by side with adverts to buy liberty bonds or else subject your children to the Kaiser's will. By the summer, however, the influx of so many American troops (visible by the reporting) seems to turn the side, not that the liberty bond ads ever noticed.

Because the Bolshies won we now refer to this as the Allied invasion of Russia, but back then the Allies were merely "lending" troops to "Russia", or whatever constituted Russia in the civil war period.

My pal Klaus is certainly not a spy. He's just an amateur signals enthusiast. The pickelhaub is a little odd, though, especially at the pool.

You thought working in customer service was bad? Wait until you're declared the government'sproperty and sent off to fight!

And just as a curiosity:

Purim Ball: Admit no Livestock!

You know it's gonna be a wild party when  they insist on "no livestock" up front:

The Harmony Club building was built at the turn of the 20th century by members of Selma's then-burgeoning Jewish community. The lower floor housed businesses, while a men's lounge was upstairs.  The building also contained a ballroom on the third floor.   In the late thirties, the building found new stewards in the Elks Club, but they closed it in 1960.  In 1999,  a man from Georgia named David Hurlbut purchased it and began restoring it; it has housed several businesses since then, in addition to his living space upstairs.  These days the ground level is occupied by a thriving restaurant called Charlie's Place, as well as an bar where people drink Heineken and admire antiques. Hurlbut maintains a website with a virtual tour, but the interior photos are not current.  Also see this article from the New York Times about Hurlbut's restoration.  There's also an interview with Hurlbut on Youtube, in which he explains his desire to save beauty when he finds it, describes himself as a steampunk designer, and asks a question that involves the Federal government and the word 'anus'.  

This photo was taken by me in 2010 and does not reflect recent restoration work, either on the building or on the street. The City of Selma has been beautifying the street (Water Avenue) to capitalize on its status as one of the longest historic waterfront streets in the southeast. 

Also, as part of this "Yesterday's News" post, here is the most polite advertisement I have ever read. Or ever will read, I suspect. 

She Can't Say No to a Soldier

A few months back I posted a collection of oddities from my hometown newspaper throughout the 20th century,  mostly to illustrate how local papers have radically changed in their offerings. From time to time I see little curiosities I like to share -- usually just via email.  I've been saving a few with an idea of making a "Yesterday's News" feature here, with funny or intriguing pieces of old papers offered. Today I spotted something in that vein that reminded me of an old song...

From the July 16, 1941 edition of the Selma-Times Journal. The caption reads: "Barbara Dillon has yen for men in uniform, and is dating draftees these days. She's  member of Atlanta's 'I Want to be Drafted' club, girls' group providing dates exclusively for service men.'

What comes to mind is Joan Merril's  WW2-era "You Can't Say No to a Soldier":

"You can't say no to a soldier, a sailor, or a handsome marine
You can't say no if he wants to dance --
 if he's gonna fight, he's got a right to romance
Get out your lipstick and powder
Be beautiful and dutiful, too
If he's not your type, then it's still OK
You can always kiss him in a sisterly way.."

That last line always amuses me. But, there are dissenting views about saying no to those boys in uniform! From the same paper, a few weeks later:

"Private George W. Morrow stubbornly refuses to ogle beauties June Reichbacher, left, and Jean Perry. They ankle past St. Louis home where George sits on leave contemplating 15 mile hike discipline handed him and Camp Robinson, Ark, buddies by Lieut-Gen Ben Lear for yoo-hooing at shorts-clad girls in Memphis."

Top Ten Things You Won't Find in Today's Local Newspaper

Working in local history, I spend a lot of face to face time with our microfilm machine. We have reels for papers as far back as the mid-1800s, and there's no decade in the 20th century I haven't spent weeks in, looking for obituaries and specific articles.  This is an absorbing experience, one which makes the past more personable:  my mind is taking in the same material as readers decades before me, though in a different form.   While the basic experience doesn't change, the kinds of things newspapers report on has.

1. Society gossip

In contemporary papers, social reporting is limited to wedding announcements -- but in older papers, even tea parties register entries.

2.  Serial Stories

Readers may be aware that a lot of "novels" were originally published as newspaper  or magazine serials. A lot of authors like Dickens and Asimov got their starts writing serialized novels or short stories for literary magazines.

3. Train and Ship schedules

I don't know if cities in Europe with train service still carry timetables, or if the internet has taken over the role. These are a treasure for realizing how dominant trains once were, though. (Steam boats were still offering twice-weekly passage from Selma in 1906:  the Nettie Quill upriver to Montgomery and the Queen Mary  downriver to Mobile.)

Care for a tren ride down to old Mexico?

4, Radio logs

When I first started visiting radio websites in the early 2000s, I thought finding lists of the music played during a given hour was an innovation. Nope -- that was  being done in the 1930s, by my local paper.

5. World News

When I first began looking through the local newspapers of 1906, attempting to establish when my hometown trolley system ended service (1926),  I discovered that local news was buried within the pages, with national and global news taking priority. This continued at least through the 1970s. There are even weekly quizzes to see how many news stories from around the world the reader recognizes -- as he ought, if he is a daily reader of the paper. Today, national news rarely appears, except in the case of disasters and presidential elections;  radio, television, and the internet  provide all of the general news, and the newspaper is left to fill a local niche. Opinion pieces on the news still provide a glimpse of what's going on outside, however.

6. Discretion

Take a look at this political cartoon of FDR. By 1940 it was known that Roosevelt was partially paralyzed, but the cartoonist doesn't dwell on it. These days, every detail about people's personal lives becomes a national obsession if they become newsworthy.

7. Girls Only

Look at that, ladies, your very own page!

8.  Personal Ads

I'd give her a call, but she probably found a beau by now. I don't know if I'm cut out to be a step-great-great-grandfather. 

9. Yesterday's News

Perhaps the oddest consistency in the papers I've surveyed is that until the 1970s or so, they feature -- on a daily basis -- tidbits from the news thirty years ago. (Except the one I discovered below, which was thirty-one years ago.)

10. The use of "solons" to refer to legislators

Solon derives from an ancient Greek lawgiver who is remembered for beginning democratic reform in Athens.  Ah, for the days of literacy, when casual references like this were normal. (I've seen this use as far as the 1970s.)

I hope you enjoyed these little looks back in time -- and here's a few extras. 

Bonus:

Giant airships!

...bank deposits? Sure, why not?

Where's Hoffa nowadays? Nobody knows...