← History That Doesn't Suck
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- [00:01]
Advertiser
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- [00:32]
Greg Jackson
Are here and Bob Dylan is the reason for it.
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Narrator
Inspired by the true story if anyone.
- [00:38]
Greg Jackson
Is going to hold your attention on stage, you have to kind of be a freak. Are you a freak? Hope so.
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Narrator
And starring Timothee Chalamet as Bob Dylan. He defied everyone.
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Greg Jackson
Turn it down.
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Narrator
They lie to change everything.
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Greg Jackson
Make some noise.
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Narrator
BD Timothy Chalamet Edward Norton El Fanny Monica Barbaro A complete unknown Only in theaters Christmas Day pretty DAR under 1790.
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Ad Voice
Minute without parent hey history fans, if you're listening to this podcast, then you'll love Airwave History. Now available on Apple Podcasts. Airwave History plus is your ticket to ad free listening, bonus content and early episodes from dozens of the most popular history podcasts including the Explorers American Revolution Podcast, the history of World War II, the American plodding through the Presidents, the history of Egypt, the Age of Napoleon, My history can beat up your politics and more. For your free trial, search Airwave History plus on Apple Podcasts and hit subscribe. That's Airwave History plus, available now on Apple Podcasts. Airwave History plus, the essential audio destination for history lovers.
- [01:51]
Greg Jackson
It's a frigid winter's night, December 29, 1920, and we're on 42nd street in New York City at the newly built Hotel Commodore. Yes, the Hotel Commodore, not the Hyatt Grand Central. Future generations will know this impressive midtown building connected to Grand Central Station by the latter name and envision it with a reflective glass facade. But those renovations are decades down the road. Right now on this cold Winter's Night, the 26 story 2000 room Hotel Commodore is covered in a beautiful red brick as New York City's well bundled but likewise well dressed elite make their way inside. But it's a curious sight as tonight's guests enter the gilded grand ballroom. Here they are, nearly a thousand of the Big Apple's uber rich and high society men in full dress women in evening gowns adorned with sparkling jewels, each dining at a $1,000 per dinner plate. And yet there isn't a tablecloth to be seen. No in front of Them lie rows of unpainted wooden tables. As they approach, each guest picks up their own tin dish. That's right, no china nor silver. Tonight, from tables at the end of the ballroom, Red Cross nurses serve a humble meal. A small helping of rice, two slices of unbuttered bread and a meager portion of cocoa. At the head of the table, in the place of honor, is an impressive chair. Yet it's empty, as is the tray before it, save for a tall, flickering tallow candle. The empty seat of honor is intentional. It represents this evening's invisible guest, someone who cannot be present today. The undernourished child of Europe. Okay, this sounds pretty dramatic. And that's intentional, of course. In fact, let's pause a moment and get some background. This paradoxically humble $1,000 a plate dinner is a fundraiser. The man behind it is 1920s America's favorite humanitarian, whom we met in the last episode. Herbert Hoover. Brilliant organizer that he is, Bert has convinced several well established charities like the Red Cross, the ymca, the Knights of Columbus, and the Jewish Joint Distribution Committee to team up to form the European Relief Council. Together, they mean to feed and care for the millions of starving children in Europe still suffering amid the aftermath of the recent Great War. I know it's so Bert Hoover, the man who fed Belgium during the war, and now the current head of the American Relief Administration. He's managed to write articles and press releases as well as speak all across the nation. In an effort to advertise for the European Relief Council. His committee runs ads in the papers asking that, quote, every American family receives some number of these children as invisible guests at their Christmas table to give us the money that we may buy on their behalf. Food, clothing and medical help. Presently, they're trying to secure enough funds to feed 6 to 7 million European children this winter. Hence this evening's $1,000 price tag for each 22 cent meal. The rice, bread, cocoa special is a typical Hoover luncheon. Exactly what they're feeding the kids overseas. These adults are getting 963 calories though, which is double the usual child sized portion. And now that you're up to speed, let's get back to our modest meal. Sitting on either side of the invisible guest's empty chair are the evening's two hosts. One is the ruddy, round faced Herbert Hoover, now sipping on his cocoa. The other is the commander of the Great War's American Expeditionary Force. Yes, our old friend General Blackjack Pershing, recently elevated to the newly created rank of General of the Armies. The graying mustachioed general sits in full military uniform, his medals glistening in the candlelight as he bites into his unbuttered bread. Two humble men humbly eating. It's a powerful scene, as Edward V. Reese will describe it in tomorrow's Brooklyn Eagle. It was a picture long to be remembered. On the one hand, the man who cradled Belgium in his arms, the leader in the work of building up the broken bodies and gaunt frames of Europe. On the other, the soldier who led the American armies to victory on the plains of France. And between the two, the vacant chair of the hunger stricken children with its fitfully burning candle. The impression which the two men in the empty chair drove home was tremendous. I know every bit as eloquent as his muckraking father Jacob, whom we met in a past Christmas special. Those Rees men just have a way with words. Anyhow, with little to eat in the first place, most guests are done with their meals within 15 minutes and an evening program soon begins. We can't say for certain what the sequence of events is, but at some point a reel plays and a series of flashing images appears on a large screen set up at one end of the ballroom. We see kids eating soup, sometimes spilling on themselves, but all the while smiling for the camera. Those sweet pictures contrast starkly to the heart wrenching images of sickly thin children with their arms outstretched, seemingly begging the wealthy guests to help them. The program includes speeches and naturally our two famous hosts are among the speakers. Blackjack has a few brief words. Having witnessed the worst of the war, the nation's foremost soldier takes this opportunity to plead for the limitation of armaments. It is time for enlightened peoples to profit by the experience of the six terrible years we have been through and take steps to prevent war. The warsick crowd couldn't agree more. Ladies and gentlemen rise to their feet in thunderous applause. Meanwhile, when almost 6 foot tall and husky Herbert Hoover addresses the crowd, he drives home the discrepancy between American prosperity and European need. Fellow Americans in service. If there is any hunger or cold in America this winter, it is due to either the foolish functioning of the social, economic or political system. There might be some excuse for gloom if the situation here was that of any of the nations of eastern or central Europe, where there is but five to seven months food supply. With the harvest eight months away, there are nearly 7 million automobiles in the United States and we have but three and a half million invisible guests. So long as any person in this nation can entertain a motor car, he can entertain an invisible guest. The photos these speeches and still others. It's all so poignant. At some point, as the program continues, an unknown gentleman suddenly rises and calls out, there is a million dollars here for the asking. Well, this is a little awkward. The invitation specifically stated that the organizers wouldn't solicit any contributions beyond the $1,000 a plate admission. Burt reminds the audience of this, politely refusing the generous call. But the unknown man is undaunted. He rises again, more insistent this time, proposing that Burt proceed with a collection. The crowd enthusiastically carries the motion. The collection goes around and as it passes through the hands of these a lister New Yorkers like Samuel Sachs, the co founder of Goldman Sachs, Andrew Carnegie's widow, Louise Carnegie, and Ralph Pulitzer, the son of the now deceased but famed World newspaper proprietor Joseph Pulitzer, the unknown man's prediction does indeed prove accurate. The collection comes to a million dollars. And yet that's not the end of the giving. Not to be outdone by other guests, John D. Rockefeller Jr. Announces that same evening that he will give a million dollars. That brings the amount for this single dinner to 3 million bucks. Over the course of the entire campaign, Americans give almost $30 million to the European Relief Council, the equivalent of just under half a billion in 2024. Thanks in large part to the organizational efforts of Bert Hoover, millions of starving European children will eat and survive the winter. It is nothing less than a late Christmas miracle.
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Ad Voice
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- [10:50]
Greg Jackson
Life that can frighten us, but sometimes.
- [10:52]
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- [10:54]
Greg Jackson
Fear to move forward.
- [10:55]
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- [11:31]
This is the sound of your ride home with dad after he caught you vaping. Awkward, isn't it? Most vapes contain seriously addictive levels of nicotine and disappointment. Know the real cost of vapes brought to you by the fda?
- [12:07]
Greg Jackson
Welcome to history that doesn't suck. I'm your professor, Greg Jackson, and I'd like to tell you a story. Merry Christmas and happy holidays. It's time for our eighth annual Christmas special. And seeing as we've spent the whole of this year's episodes roaring through the 1920s today, I was thinking I'd take a similar approach by regaling you with a few Christmas tales from across the decade. Some deepen our understanding of historical figures we've already met, like that opening story of Herbert Hoover's incredibly successful December 1920 fundraiser. Just another example of why everyone thought he'd make such a good president. Meanwhile, others are stories of important traditions forming that will continue well into America's future. We'll start with another presidential tale, with Calvin Coolidge, to be precise, lighting up a Christmas tree near the White House. We'll then meet a Holyoke College professor who's out to teach the women in his choir and, frankly, all of America, to value Christmas carols on a deeper level. Finally, we'll head to Knoxville, Tennessee, for the city's first Santa Claus parade, the first of many to come. So, ready for a little Christmas cheer before we head deep into our coming episodes on the Great Depression? Yeah, I think we need this, too. And we begin with a trip to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Here we go. Ho, ho, ho.
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Narrator
Merry Chris Wallace.
- [13:49]
Greg Jackson
It's just after dusk, Christmas Eve, 1923. We're just south of the White House, standing with a group of people in the large open space inside the circular road known as the Ellipse. As we do, President Calvin Coolidge is walking our way, serving as vice president until Warren G. Harding sadly died this past summer. This is Calvin's first Christmas as the president. And tonight, the slender, famously taciturn New Englander, hence the nickname of Silent Cal, is doing something none of his predecessors have done. He's illuminating a massive tree here to the south of the White House. Okay, the President is glad handing. So let me tell you about this tree as he makes the rounds. It's magnificent. The idea started with the District of Columbia Public Schools wanting to put up a Christmas tree. And that led to this massive evergreen gift from the great state of Vermont. Now, I can't officially comment, but one might think that Vermont got the honor of supplying the tree because Cal and his wife Grace are proud Vermonters themselves. Then again, perhaps it's simply because the Green Mountain State takes its Christmas trees very seriously, harvesting them from old abandoned farmland in the mountains. These Vermont trees are always nicely spaced out and grow into beautiful full shapes. Head of Middlebury College, Dr. Paul Dwight Moody selected this particular 48 foot spruce. He sent it to the White House in early December with a note saying, I hope that the big tree will prove a factor in contributing toward the true Yuletide spirit throughout the land. I'm sure it will. And to his point, this tree is already taking significance far beyond the local school system. It's now being called the National Christmas Tree. Oh, but I'll stop there. Looks like Cal is about to perform his presidential Christmas tree act. It's now 5:00. Our strong but silent Commander in Chief presses a button. Every face in the crowd fills with delight as 2,500 red, white and green electric lights simultaneously come to life, brightly illuminating the tree. The festivities of this presidential Christmas Eve only continue from there. Visiting, caroling. And at 7pm the U.S. marine Band, aka the President's Own, begins a magnificent performance. These musically gifted Devil Dogs play for a full hour. Then at 9pm the first lady welcomes hundreds of eager citizens to the White House. They've come caroling, singing songs published in the Evening Star newspaper just for this occasion. This national Christmas tree, as the enormous, well lit Vermont evergreen in the ellipse is indeed known, will shine brightly every night until New Year's. It's also the start of a new presidential tradition, one that despite some interruptions, will continue right into the 21st century. But to keep our focus on this first national Christmas tree, it is perhaps particularly meaningful as it so quickly evolves into a new symbol of national community. It is also a very public display of that now decades old but still spreading technology, electric lighting. Before wrapping lights around the Christmas tree, Americans like Yuletide loving Europeans lit their Christmas trees with candles. That's right. Live flames dancing on the supple branches of a slowly dying tree inside a house. Often a wooden house. Not the safest situation then. So we can see why Thomas Alba Edison's electric bulbs are catching on as a safer alternative here in the early 20th century. But it's not just safety making these electric lights catch on. Colored lights like the one Silent Cal just turned on are making for a whole new Christmas aesthetic, one that will quickly spread this Christmas with Silent Cal and Grace Coolidge. Sounds so normal to our 21st century ears. Yet how curious that it's a native New Englander who starts the national tree tradition. After all, the Puritans, who played such a large role in the creation of New England didn't celebrate Christmas. In fact, they considered carol sinful. And a puritanical aversion to Christmas festivities lingered in New England up through the 1880s, which was when Silent Cal was growing up in Vermont. But Cal Coolidge isn't the only New Englander loosening up and embracing the Christmas spirit. Indeed, one New England institution's embrace of the season is having a rather outsized national impact. Though its founder, Mary Lyon, was such a non fan of Christmas that she forbade her early to mid 19th century students from decorating or exchanging gifts, Mount Holyoke College has changed its tune considerably by the 1920s. Now this Western Massachusetts women's college has a choir that specializes in singing and ancient carols. This caroling choir even tours professionally. And that is all but entirely thanks to its fearless leader, Dr. William Churchill Hammond. Mr. H, as the students call the bespectacled New Englander, is an accomplished organist and conductor. He's been a Holyoke faculty member since about the turn of the century and is also an avid collector of obscure Christmas carols. He began by teaching these forgotten carols to his church children's choir, but found that their young voices didn't have the depth he was looking for. That led him to turn to his Holyoke students instead, giving us the Mount Holyoke Carol Choir. Everyone at Mount Holyoke knows and respects Mr. H. To quote choir girl Margaret.
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Margaret
S. Holy When Mr. H plays, there are very few girls, I think, who would not admit willingly that they have been greatly stirred by his music. Throughout the week, we strive hard for an appearance of unconcern. But when Mr. H turns the lights low and begins to play softly, one senses immediately the restfulness that settles over the chapel. Then there is no need to keep on our masks. We can rest for half an hour and really feel.
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Greg Jackson
This feeling of joy, comfort and happiness is exactly what the holidays are about. Now. Mr. H's beloved carols are often in foreign languages and even when in English, like largely unknown to the American public. But none of that will deter the determined New Englander from spreading his musical Christmas cheer to an audience far beyond Massachusetts or even a single music hall. It's a chilly Saturday evening, December 19, 1925. We're seated comfortably inside New York's town hall. No, not the municipality's seat of government. This is the recently built auditorium on 43rd street between 6th and 7th Avenues. Every available seat of this brick theater is jam packed with Holyoke alumni. And it's worth noting there isn't a bad seat in the house. The theater prides itself on being built democratically, so there are no pillars or boxes in our way. Tonight's musical program consists of carols from the 13th century onward and a few of Mr. H's beloved organ performances. But there's an even bigger novelty. This program is being broadcast live to New York radio listeners. At this point, radio is truly taking off, and stations are pleased to broadcast today's performance. Ah, but. Shh. The audience is quieting down. It seems like the program is about to begin. We don't know exactly how things start here, but it's likely that Mr. H steps onto the stage, Then motions to the girls in some way, since he won't be directing them. What can I say? He's a bit preoccupied. As the organ soloist, Mr. H gets seated on his bench, and then, somehow, they begin. Most of their music is new to the majority alumni crowd in the house tonight, but all listen intently and feel transported as unfamiliar songs such as down in yon forest and bring in a torch waft through the air along with other carols in foreign languages. Yes, it seems that Mr. H's musical talents, carried tonight by the talents of his students, are just as magical as Margaret described them. The Holyoke choir continues to perform across the nation, and the reviews are nothing but complimentary. Newspapers often praise the ladies fresh voices and enthusiasm. As for Mr. H, one reviewer writes that as an organist, Dr. Hammond quite exceeds his ability as a conductor, which is saying a great deal. And as they travel from one venue to the next, Mr. H and the women's choir are deepening the nation's caroling tradition. From the technical wizardry of Cal's national Christmas tree to the ethereal grace of the Holyoke choir's carols, the roaring twenties are indeed starting or renewing many a Christmas tradition that will stay with the United States well into the 21st century. And in Tennessee, these deepening traditions include Santa foregoing his usual inconspicuousness to come to town in a very public and visible way.
- [22:50]
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Greg Jackson
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- [23:22]
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- [24:01]
Greg Jackson
It's a little before noon Friday, November 30, 1928. We're at the corner of Gay street and East Main in Knoxville, Tennessee, where countless children and parents are standing in the midst of a rather heavy downpour. A truly unpleasant situation. True, but the children are so excited. Today is Knoxville's first Santa Claus parade. Or at least it's supposed to be. While some 15,000 would be spectators made phone calls that overwhelmed the parade sponsoring Knoxville Journal's phone line. So much so that some calls were redirected to co sponsoring businesses and even to the city jail. These families chose to brave the elements just in case. Some families had little choice. They'd already traveled several miles to be here, and turning around wasn't exactly an option. But alas, Santa is not coming to town today. The rain would ruin all the elaborately decorated floats and leave Kris Kringle a sopping mess. Eventually, someone from the Journal arrives to break the disappointing news to the kids. The parade can't happen. Not today. Soaked to the bone, these families make the best of their situation. They dry off by visiting the shops in downtown Knoxville. The children's disappointment is assuaged by the well stocked stores all decked out for Christmas. Be that clothes, shoes, makeup, toys, or most anything else these kids or parents might have on their Christmas lists. Ah, no wonder these shops are co sponsors of the Santa parade. They're hoping the jolly old elf can drum up some jolly old business. Even with the canceled parade, it looks like that's a solid bet. But none of this is to say the parade is off for good. Santa doesn't get up that easily. The following morning, Saturday, Knoxville families opened their Knoxville journals to find a letter to the public from Santa. Published on the front page, it reads in part to the boys and Girls in East Tennessee, did you think I had forgotten you when you waited and waited for me yesterday and I didn't come when you heard from me last? My fleet footed reindeer were carrying me ever so swiftly toward Knoxville. But alas, misfortune was in our path. The fates were against us. When we arrived in the interior of the United States. Such rain as I have never before seen. Oh, yes, I guess it has rained just as hard on many a Christmas Eve. But on that magic night of nights, my reindeer travel far above the earth and care not for the muddied land and deep waters which are miles below. But traveling on land is different. When we were within a few hundred miles of Knoxville, the mud grew deeper, and it was with much effort that the reindeer were able to travel at all. They courageously plodded on, though almost completely exhausted, until we came to a great river which was far out of bounds. The bridge was many, many feet beneath the swift waters, and we had no means of getting across. As I write this message to you, the waters of this great river are fast, fast receding. I know right now just who stood there waiting for me yesterday, and I know that every one of you will be right there when I come along today. I can promise you right now that this is going to be the very finest Christmas that you ever had. Santa Claus. I can only imagine the beaming faces of Knoxville children sitting around the breakfast table as a parent reads this letter aloud. I bet the kids are eating fast. It's time to head downtown again to see the bearded old man himself. It's now just before noon. Saturday, December 1, 1928. 24 hours exactly since we were last here on Knoxville's Gay Street. But no rain is falling today. Nope, the weather has cleared up, and the ranks of Santa seekers have only swelled. Frankly, this might just be the largest crowd Knoxville's seen since Armistice Day. People of all ages are pressed together on the sidewalks, and more are hanging from their windows along the parade route. The marshal leads the way. Right behind him are motorcycle policemen, perhaps led by the city's tall, blonde and handsome police chief, Edward Haynes. They're followed by a group that we would expect to see at any city parade anywhere in the nation. Local school marching bands. These include Knoxville High School and farther down the line, Boyd Jr. Whose band teacher Fred De Robertis composed the Santa Claus March Just for Today. Sponsoring department stores participate as well, with floats depicting beloved characters from fairy tales such as old Mother Goose, Humpty Dumpty, Jack and Jill and others. It all adds to this Christmas spectacle. But as much as the children enjoy the motorcycles, bands and floats, their faces truly light up when that deep iconic laugh cuts through the brass music and cheers. Yes, it's the jolly bearded old elf himself, Santa Claus. And Mrs. Claus is with him, as is their pet dog, seated in a tall wheeled sleigh pulled by four antlerless Alaskan reindeer. Santa greets the crowd as he passes by. It's a very merry sight indeed. The kids love the Santa parade, all of it. And we know that from the testimonials in the following day's Knoxville Journal. Five year old Paul Pless adores quote that big dog that was in Santi's sleigh as big as the reindeers themselves. Six year old Herbert Franklin reports that me, I liked everything in it that was toys. But Humpty Dumpty specially old Humpty Egg was shaped so funny. But that said, seven year old Lutrilla Perky has notes for the organizers about Santa's hornless reindeer. Even if she liked the rest, she says they ought to have horns. But I liked it all great, especially little Betty Blue who lost her pretty shoe. I was Betty in a play once. Close quote. Of course you were a Lutrilla and I'm sure you were a great Betty. While I'm also sure the Knoxville Journal and its co sponsors, I.e. local stores, were pleased to bring such joy to the kids, these shops were just as pleased to see a little commercial Christmas cheer in their registers following the parade. Santa personally called on a bunch of these stores over the course of the day, checking their stocks of holiday goods. The kids followed him. Mom and dad were exposed to various gift ideas and, well, I think you can connect the dots from there. After the parade induced craze dies down, several local department store proprietors make their way down to the Knoxville Journal to thank the newspaper personally for their organizational efforts. One local business owner remarks that it did more to stimulate Christmas buying than anything which has ever been attempted here. Another reports, I am tickled to death over the success of the whole affair. There have been people in our store today who have never been in it before. Given the parade's great emotional and commercial success, I'm sure you're not surprised to hear that they decide that the parade should be repeated next year. And after enough years, well, it turns into a Knoxville tradition. One that like Santa parades in various cities across the United States will endure into the 21st century. From Herbert Hoover's invisible guest dinner to Calvin Coolidge's electric illumination to the Holyoke Choir's charming carols and Knoxville Santa Parade. America of the 1920s has its share of Christmas magic, magic that we will hope transcends the leaner Christmases to come. But those Christmases of the Great Depression are a tale for another day. For now, as we close out the 1920s while listening in the 2000s, I wish you the merriest of roaring twenties Christmases and the happiest of Fitzgerald esque holidays. History that Doesn't Suck is created and hosted by me, Greg Jackson Episode researched and written by Greg Jackson and Ella Hendrickson, Hollyoak Student read by Riley Neubauer Production by Airship Sound design by Molly Bach Theme music composed by Greg Jackson arrangement and additional composition by Lindsey Graham of Airship for bibliography of all primary and secondary sources consulted in writing this episode, visit htdspodcast.com HTDS is supported by Premium membership fans. You can join by clicking the link in the episode description. My gratitude to you kind souls providing additional funding to help us keep going and a special thanks to our members whose monthly gift puts them at producer status. Andy Thompson, Anthony Pizzullo, Art Lane, Beth Chris Jansen, Bob Drazovich, Brian Goodson, Bronwyn Cohen, Carrie Beggle, Charles and Shirley Clendendon Charlie Magus, Chloe Tripp, Christopher Merchant, Christopher Pullman, David DeFazio, David Rifkin, Denke Durante, Spencer Donald Moore, Donna Marie Jeffcoat, Ellen Stewart, Bernie Lowe, George Sherwood, Gerwith Griffin, Henry Brunges, Jake Gilbreth, James g. Bledsoe, Janie McCreary J. Jeff Marks, Jennifer Moots, Jennifer Magnolia, Jeremy Wells, Jessica Poppick, Joe Dobus, John Frugaldougal, John Boovie, John Keller, John Oliveros, John Ridlevich, John Schaeffer, John Scheff, Jordan Corbett, Joshua Steiner, Justin M. Spriggs, Justin May, Kristen Pratt, Karen Bartholomew, Cassie Koneko, Kim R. Kyle Decker, Lawrence Neubauer, Linda Cunningham, Mark Ellis, Matthew Mitchell, Matthew Simmons, Melanie Jan, Nick Seckender, Nick Caffrell, Noah Hoff, Owen Sedlak, Paul Goeringer, Randy Guthrie, Reese Humphries Wadsworth, Rick Brown, Sarah Trewick, Samuel Lagasse, Sharon Theizen, Sean Baines, Steve Williams, the Creepy Girl, Tisha Black and Zack Jackson.
- [33:41]
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