Wednesday July 9

[no entry]

-------------------

Matt's Notes

I imagine Papa left today's page blank because he was up until four in the morning listening to the Democratic Convention. As noted yesterday, the convention's week-long balloting deadlock had finally broken and all candidates, including former frontrunners William McAdoo and Al Smith, had released their delegates. (Or, as the New York Times put it, "The two men in this convention who have inspired the bitterest ecstasies of love and had had been driven out of the running after a struggle that had endured too long...")

Papa certainly tuned his radio to the convention proceedings on this day and heard, at 2:35 in the afternoon, the completion of the 103rd ballot in which John W. Davis received the nomination. A native West Virginian, Davis had served as Ambassador to the United Kingdom, as a one-term member of Congress and as Solicitor General under Woodrow Wilson. He was a fairly progressive Democrat -- he condemned the Ku Klux Klan and advocated the repeal of prohibition -- and was a formidable appellate lawyer. His running mate turned out to be Nebraska's Charles W. Bryan, brother of the famed orator William Jennings Bryan (William J. had inauspiciously supported the more conservative William McAdoo throughout the convention and had lobbied against Davis' nomination).

Davis was, of course, doomed to lose regardless of his qualifications. The Democratic Party had turned into a national joke, literally, during the protracted and contentious convention. (Since Alabama began each of the 103 convention ballots by nominating its Senator, Oscar Underwood, the words "Alabama casts twenty-four votes for Oscar W. Underwood" became a national catch phrase and vaudeville punch line along the lines of "I'm the decider.") Papa would have liked Davis, but but no one would have been able to overcome the party's problems in time for Election Day.

References from the New York Times:

• DAVIS IS PUT OVER IN WILD STAMPEDE; Weary Delegates Jump for Band Wagon and Then All Join Big Demonstration.
• DEMOCRATS FILL THEIR TICKET; Choose Davis and Bryan After Another Day of Balloting.

Other References:

• John Davis biographical information at Answers.com

Tuesday July 8

After listening till 4 am
to the dem. convention at the
Garden, there is still no choice
of a candidate.

There is a new and powerful
radio station W.N.Y.C.
run by this city. I expect
to derive the most benefit from
it as I am an ardent radio
listener. The first nights
program was an indication
that they will give good programs
in the future!

---------------

Matt's Notes

Papa felt compelled to listen to the Democratic Convention broadcast until 4 AM because the voting deadlock that had crippled the nominating process (and kept the convention in Madison Square Garden for a week longer than originally intended) had finally broken. William McAdoo, who seemed a stone's throw from the nomination just a couple of weeks earlier, had finally faced the impossibility of his candidacy and released his delegates, as had all other candidates including New York Governor Al Smith.

The nomination, of course, was not going to be more than a door prize at this point. The 1924 Presidential conventions were the first ever to be broadcast on the radio and accordingly received unprecedented scrutiny. The Democrats' public, drawn-out conflicts over how to treat the Klan and the League of Nations in their platform, as well as their comically protracted balloting, had pretty much sealed their party's defeat in the upcoming general election.

For those of you just joining us, we should note again that commercial radio was just finding its footing in 1924, and the novelty of the Democratic convention's broadcast had New Yorkers enthralled. They clustered in public parks to listen to the action on public address systems, crowded the entrances of radio stores, and, if they were early adopters like Papa, stayed up until all hours with their headphones on. I suppose many people, including Papa (pictured below with his radio) must have spent the week of the Democratic convention, especially during its final days, in a hyper-attenuated, sleep-deprived state.



Yet even as New Yorkers wondered how the action at the convention was going to play out, they must have also wondered, in some way, at the strange cultural phenomenon unfolding in their city. New York may have been familiar with hosting large events, but until now there was no such thing as a broadcast "media event" of such scale and profile. Buildings were lined with bunting, the streets were full of parades and local businesses played host to packs of seersuckered delegates from all over. But now, in addition to what they could see, New Yorkers had the odd, new ability to witness the raw goings-on inside the Garden. There simply had never been anything like it. The ubiquity must have been disorienting, maybe even thrilling. How did it feel? Like a child tasting ice cream for the first time? A blind person suddenly seeing a rainbow? (Or, more appropriately, someone discovering e-mail in the early 90's?) What was it, exactly, they were a part of? How were they supposed to regard it?

But, let's get back to the night of the 8th: At some point around 9:00, well before he realized he'd be up until the wee hours with the convention broadcast on WEAF, Papa tuned his radio to the 526-meter wave and caught the first sounds of WNYC. Today, New Yorkers of a certain demographic know WNYC as their city's public radio station and take its existence for granted, but back in the 20's municipally-financed radio was a strange innovation; it would not have arrived in New York but for the political savvy and tenacity of Grover A. Whalen, the city's Commissioner for Plant and Structures.

The New York Times' coverage of the opening ceremonies quoted Mayor Hylan's descriptions of the station's rather broad goals:

To insure uninterrupted programs of recreational entertainment for all the people is one of the compelling reasons for the installation of the Municipal Radio Broadcasting Station. To assist the Police Department in the work of crime prevention and detection; the Fire Department in the expeditious employment of its land and marine equipment in fighting fires; and the Health Department in safeguarding the physical well-being of New York's gigantic population are also some of the conspicuous services to be rendered by this municipal plant.
...

Municipal information, formerly available only after patient perusal of reports, is not to be brought into one's home in an interesting, delightful and attractive form. Facts, civic, social, commercial and industrial, will be marshaled and presented by those with their subjects well in hand. Talks on timely topics will also be broadcasted. Programs sufficiently diversified to meed all tastes, with musical concerts, both vocal in instrumental, featured at all times, should make 'tuning in' on the Municipal Radio pleasant as well as profitable.

According to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, the night's programming that so excited Papa included these highlights:

Clergymen of three different faiths pronounced invocations. Mons. Charles A. Cassidy, the Rev. Dr. Charles H. Nauman and Rabbi Bernard Drachman offered prayers. The program included several musical numbers in addition to addresses by many city officials. Vincent Lopez was there with his orchestra. The Six Brown Brothers saxophoned several selections. Miss Estelle Carey, who is widely known from her connection with the Mark Strand Theater in this boro, rendered a vocal solo. Several other features, including the Police Band and the Police Quartet, made the initial program pleasant to the musical ear.

Note that Papa almost never used exclamation marks in his diary, so I think the last line of this entry -- "The first nights program was an indication that they will give good programs in the future!" -- shows his excitement not only for the programming, but for the development of the radio medium in general. As I've mentioned before, Papa's love of radio made him something of a proto-media geek -- he likely built his radio set from a kit before commercial sets were commonly available, he listened obsessively (and, in his lonelier moments, wistfully characterized the radio as his "only companion") and he recorded with boyish excitement the music, speeches, and sporting events he heard.

Alas, few recordings of 1924 radio exist (though WNYC has a simulation of their opening night's programming on their 80th Anniversary retrospective Web site) though a few are still around. Earlier in the year, I paid a lunchtime visit to the Museum of Television and Radio and listened to a clip of Al Smith's campaign manager, young Franklin Delano Roosevelt, announcing the release of Smith's delegates to the roaring approval of the Democratic Convention crowd. I must admit I wasn't prepared for how solemn I'd feel when I realized I was listening to the very sounds Papa must have heard himself. I sat there and stared for a while at my carrel's desk. Some guy behind me chuckled aloud at the old sitcoms he was watching, and I felt offended somehow, as if he should have known how close I had just come to Papa.

------------------

Thanks to Andy and Jennifer at WNYC for their help with this post.

-------------------

References from The New York Times:

• CITY'S RADIO PLANT OPENED BY MAYOR; His Speech Broadcast on 526-Meter Wave From Top of Municipal Building.
  
• SMITH AND M'ADOO HELD SECRET PARLEY; Before Night Session Governor Appealed in Vain to Rival to Withdraw.
  
• HOPE AND FEAR RULE DELEGATES BY TURNS; Some on Verge of Hysteria as Struggle for Supremacy Wanes and Waxes.
  
• Thrills Come Early in Morning After Session Opens Tamely; Galleries Cheer Steadfast Stand of Smith Supporters and Boo Unyielding McAdoo States -- 'Dark Horses' Make Gains After Ralston Goes.
  
• Text of Mr. Roosevelt' s Speech With Smith Offer to Quit
  
• Text of McAdoo's Letter to the Convention Freeing His Delegates from All Pledges to Him

Other references:

• Here's more on WNYC's history at their Web site.

------------

Image Source: "One of the delegates to the convention who comes from Texas." Library of Congress #LC-USZ62-132243. Image rights not evaluated, according to the LOC.

Monday July 7

Radio and an open hour
at C.I. bathing.

Just heard on radio that
Presidents son died at 10:30
tonight. My sympathy goes
forth to the Presidents family

---------

Matt's Notes

Papa likely heard about the death of President Coolidge's son when the Democratic Convention, as heard on WEAF's broadcast, adjourned early that night out of respect for the President's family. (Calvin, Jr. died of septicemia after a tennis-related blister on his heel became infected.)

It's worth pointing out how odd it must have been for Americans like Papa, who weren't yet accustomed to live radio news, to learn of such an event as it happened. Papa was by all accounts an extraordinarily compassionate person, but I wonder if he would have written "my sympathy goes forth to the President's family" in his private journal had he merely read the news in the morning papers. (Then again, he was still profoundly affected by his own father's death, so perhaps he would have responded the same way to the President's loss no matter how he heard about it.)

We should also note that the Democratic Convention had reached an interesting point before its early adjournment.

Balloting had been deadlocked for a week. The frontrunner, William McAdoo, had unsuccessfully proposed a rules change that would have allowed him to take the nomination with a simple majority of delegates as opposed to the traditional two-thirds. New York Governor Al Smith, who controlled a blocking minority, had led a push to get all candidates to release their delegates, but McAdoo had refused.

Into the fray waded James M. Cox, the newspaper publisher, former Governor of Ohio and 1920 Democratic Presidential candidate. The negotiations Cox held upon his arrival in New York seemed to trigger some movement at the convention. McAdoo's delegates started to drift toward other candidates, effectively ending his bid. Smith gained a few votes, but seasoned political observers knew he had no chance, either. The race was wide open again.

I've been party to a conversational ice-breaker where someone asks everyone in the room whether they'd rather visit the past or the future. I usually say the future, but I must say it would be hard to resist a chance to witness the stunning levels of deal-making, cigar-smoking, hallway-sprinting and door-knocking that lit up convention headquarters at the Waldorf-Astoria that night. If the rules permitted, though, I'd probably sneak out, hop a subway to the Lower East Side, and knock on Papa's door. I don't know what I'd say when he answered. Maybe I'd just ask him how the waves were at Coney Island.

-------------------------

References from the New York Times:

• PRESIDENT'S SON, CALVIN JR., 16, DIES AS PARENTS WATCH; End Comes at 10:30 P.M. in Walter Reed Hospital After Gallant Struggle. - (This article mentions how most Americans learned of the Calvin Jr.'s death through the Democratic Convention broadcast.)
  
  
• COX ARRIVES HERE FOR HARMONY MOVE; Begins Conferences at Once to Concentrate Upon a Candidate and Procedure.
  
  
• SMITH FORGES TO THE FRONT; He Holds His Own in Voting While Delegates Quit McAdoo.
  
  
• M'ADOO BLOC IS MELTING; Floating Away, Piece by Piece, Like Ice Jam in a Thaw.
  
  
• Coolidge Thanks Democrats For Message of Sympathy
  
  
• SCIENCE OF RADIO ADDS 5,000 NEW WORDS TO ENGLISH LANGUAGE; Biblical Student Claims Radio an Old Word Used in Bible to Describe Lightning -- Radiocasting Is the Newest Term. - (This article cites the efforts of the Associated Manufacturers of Electrical Supplies to discourage use of the term "broadcasting" in favor of "radiocasting.")

Other References:

• Definition of septicemia from Medline

Friday July 4

Spending these days
at home doing nothing
but reading listening to the
radio.

This greatest of American
holidays the birthday of the
U.S. Independence I celebrated
quietly within the confines of
my home.

----------------

Matt's Notes

I suppose someone unfamiliar with Papa's diary might find Papa's description of his solitary Independence Day to be mildly sad, but I expect he was more than just a little blue. Holidays and milestones usually made him feel particularly lonely, and a day like this, when it seemed like the whole country was having a party to which he wasn't invited, couldn't have made him feel any less alien (he was not yet a citizen) and adrift (the recent death of his father in the old country had left him without any true image of "home" to cling to).

While the above interpretations of Papa's feelings are speculative, I'm more confident that the sounds of the Democratic Convention on his radio didn't do much to cut through his gloom. Papa's beloved party remained locked in limbo, still unable to settle on a Presidential candidate after seventy ballots. The New York Times increasingly cast the struggle in warlike terms; guest columnist Will Rogers compared the delegates to veterans of the Great War while accounts of near-riots and attendees collapsing to the floor made other headlines.

Yet the leading candidates, Smith and McAdoo, still soldiered on even though neither had a chance at the nomination. It was 12:18 AM when the convention finally adjourned and allowed Papa to switch off his radio and go to bed. I suppose the day's demonstration of democracy at its sloppiest must have made for a strange and sour Fourth of July. Still, Papa would live to see his adopted country recover and accomplish many impressive things, which is some small comfort on July 4th, 2007, when our President has just set a new standard for grotesque tolerance of criminal behavior in his administration. Maybe we'll get the taste out of our mouths one of these days.

------------------------------

References from the New York Times:

• ADJOURNS TO 10:30 A.M.; Convention Shouts Down Plan for Smith and McAdoo to Quit.
• SMITH ROOTER STRICKEN.; Gallery Cheer Leader Has Stroke as Convention Adjourns.
• DELEGATES ON EDGE; REVOLT SIGNS SEEN; Demonstration at Night Over McAdoo Gain Momentarily Relieves Tension of Paraders.
• Survivors of Convention Will Get Bonus After Six Years, Says Will Rogers

Thursday July 3

I started to clean up
my nest and will try
to make it more attractive
even if it is for me alone.

Now I've been told that I made
not hit with yesterdays girl
however she wishes to go out
with me just so. Strange


----------------

Matt's Notes

Papa met a woman through a marriage broker yesterday, examined himself through her eyes, and found himself wanting. He questioned whether he was a worthy suitor, whether a laborer of his lot had a chance with a lovely, "naive" woman like her. I wonder if, when he got home, he maintained her point of view and made a similarly unforgiving survey of his bachelor pad: the piles of newspapers he while he idled through his factory's slack season; stacks of Zionist flyers he hadn't yet distributed; a cup and a plate unwashed on his table; his monstrous radio, all knobs and bolts and snaking wires, on a makeshift stand, its headphones resting on the seat of his chair.

It was the apartment of a man on his own, a man underemployed, a man who had, since his father's death two month ago, been too sad and distracted and lost in the whirl of profound grief to pay much attention to his surroundings. Perhaps he felt the need to clean house because the sadness was fading and the need to rebuild his life, rethink his relationship to the world, had taken hold a bit more. Perhaps the approaching Fourth of July milestone made him take stock, or the messiness of the Democratic Convention, now past its fiftieth ballot and still deadlocked, made him feel the need to straighten up what he could.

Then again, maybe he just liked the woman he'd met and thought he might one day have her up for coffee. The marriage broker's mixed report on her feelings about Papa -- she wasn't that impressed, but would deign to see him again -- may have been a familiar part of the matchmaking game, a bit of a ruse to keep him on his toes. So when he says he wants to make his "nest...more attractive even if it is for me alone," is there a touch of a wish, a hint of a hope, that it might not be that way for long?

-----------------

References:

• HOW DELEGATES TOOK BRYAN'S SPEECH; Turmoil and Disorder Prevails as He Attempts to Push McAdoo. NEW YORK GROUP IS QUIET But Interrupters Were Plenty in the Other State Delegations. (From the July 3rd New York Times)
  
  
• M'ADOO DRIVE FALTERING; Vote Drops Steadily in Second Day of Continuous Balloting. (From the July 3rd New York Times)
  
  
• UNCEASING BALLOTS BENUMB GALLERIES; Din Headquarters Become Dormitories After Fiftieth Polling. (From the July 4th New York Times)

Tuesday July 1

Dull

--------------

Matt's Notes

Papa was still on a forced break from work due to his factory's "slack season," and he never enjoyed idleness. I wonder, too, if the ongoing stasis at the Democratic Convention, delivered through his radio in all its grinding detail, had started to affect his mood.

The New York Times characterized the convention galleries as in a "deep depression" expressed "through the afternoon by a curious lowing noise." Granted, the Times writer may have just needed some sort of hook for yet another article about a convention that was supposed to have adjourned a week earlier, but the proceedings probably felt genuinely boring after the previous days' ballot swings and delegate-on-delegate fisticuffs.

Meanwhile, some other New York Times headlines that might have caught Papa's eye as he listened to the Convention included:

• NEW LAW TIGHTENS CONTROL OF AUTOS; Every Motorist in State Must Be Examined for a License Before Oct. 1. - Up until now, New York State had not required automobile drivers to carry a license. Other provisions of the law decreed "brakes and steering mechanism must be in good order and a suitable horn must be provided"; "a muffler must be used"; "two white headlights of twenty-one candlepower each must be carried on all vehicles"; "all motor vehicles carrying ten or more passengers must have fire extinguishers"; and "trucks must have a mirror adjusted to give a view of the traffic in the rear." Does that last requirement imply that most cars in 1924 were operating without rear-view mirrors?
  
  
• CELEBRATE OPENING OF SUBWAY LINK; Civic and City Officials Ride in First Train Over 14th St. Line to Brooklyn. - Looks like this "Fourteenth Street-Eastern District subway," which ran from 6th Avenue and 14th Street in Manhattan to Montrose and Bushwick Avenues, was the first manifestation of today's storied L line. New York Mayor Hylan used the opening ceremonies to restate his case for transferring control of New York's Subways from private companies to a municipal body.
  
  
• GIANTS BEAT ROBINS FOR 12TH TIME, 7-5; Sharp Fielding Behind Nehf and Jonnard and Timely Hitting Result in Victory - The Giants beat writer for the Times remains my favorite of all their baseball reporters. Today he said the Giants "put a horseshoe in the glove yesterday and knocked the Robins to a sitting position for the twelfth time this season," among other colorful turns of phrase.
  
  
• CALLS LEAGUE PLANK FATAL.; Senator Willis Asserts It and Split Will Defeat Democrats. - The debate over whether to call out the Ku Klux Klan by name in the Democratic platform's anti-bigotry plank was the convention's most contentious, but running a close second was the question of whether or not to endorse the League of Nations in the platform. The final platform did not include such language, and I imagine this was a great disappointment to Papa who, like Senator Willis, was a great admirer of Woodrow Wilson's dedication to the League. Said Willis: "They have kicked the memory of Woodrow Wilson into the discard. They have been forgetful of the memory of Woodrow wilson for expediency's sake."
  
  
• PEACE SEEMS NEAR IN GARMENT STRIKE; New Manufacturers' Exchange Signs an Agreement With Workers. - The Amalgamated Clothing Workers strike that began on June 25th came to an early end as the union won a number of concessions on minimum pay and unemployment insurance. I thought at first that Papa may have been a member of the Amalgamated and therefore sitting out work due to the strike, but I'm sure he would have written something about it.
  

References:

• FIRST BLOW STRUCK IN MISSOURI CLASH; Delegate, Charging Prevalence of McAdoo Money, Lands on Another, Calling Him a "Liar."

Dull

--------------

Matt's Notes

Papa have still been on a forced break from work due to his factory's "slack season," and he never enjoyed idleness. I wonder, too, if the ongoing stasis at the Democratic Convention, delivered through his radio in all its grinding detail, had started to affect his mood.

The New York Times characterized the convention galleries as in a "deep depression" expressed "through the afternoon by a curious lowing noise." Granted, the Times writer may have just needed some sort of hook for yet another article about a convention that was supposed to have adjourned a week earlier, but the proceedings probably felt genuinely boring after the previous days' ballot swings and delegate-on-delegate fisticuffs.

Meanwhile, some other New York Times headlines that might have caught Papa's eye as he listened to the Convention included:

• NEW LAW TIGHTENS CONTROL OF AUTOS; Every Motorist in State Must Be Examined for a License Before Oct. 1. - Up until now, New York State had not required automobile drivers to carry a license. Other provisions of the law decreed "brakes and steering mechanism must be in good order and a suitable horn must be provided"; "a muffler must be used"; "two white headlights of twenty-one candlepower each must be carried on all vehicles"; "all motor vehicles carrying ten or more passengers must have fire extinguishers"; and "trucks must have a mirror adjusted to give a view of the traffic in the rear." Does that last requirement imply that most cars in 1924 were operating without rear-view mirrors?
  
  
• CELEBRATE OPENING OF SUBWAY LINK; Civic and City Officials Ride in First Train Over 14th St. Line to Brooklyn. - Looks like this "Fourteenth Street-Eastern District subway," which ran from 6th Avenue and 14th Street in Manhattan to Montrose and Bushwick Avenues, was the first manifestation of today's storied L line. New York Mayor Hylan used the opening ceremonies to restate his case for transferring control of New York's Subways from private companies to a municipal body.
  
  
• GIANTS BEAT ROBINS FOR 12TH TIME, 7-5; Sharp Fielding Behind Nehf and Jonnard and Timely Hitting Result in Victory - The Giants beat writer for the Times remains my favorite of all their baseball reporters. Today he said the Giants "put a horseshoe in the glove yesterday and knocked the Robins to a sitting position for the twelfth time this season," among other colorful turns of phrase.
  
  
• CALLS LEAGUE PLANK FATAL.; Senator Willis Asserts It and Split Will Defeat Democrats. - The debate over whether to call out the Ku Klux Klan by name in the Democratic platform's anti-bigotry plank was the convention's most contentious, but running a close second was the question of whether or not to endorse the League of Nations in the platform. The final platform did not include such language, and I imagine this was a great disappointment to Papa who, like Senator Willis, was a great admirer of Woodrow Wilson's dedication to the League. Said Willis: "They have kicked the memory of Woodrow Wilson into the discard. They have been forgetful of the memory of Woodrow wilson for expediency's sake."
  
  
• PEACE SEEMS NEAR IN GARMENT STRIKE; New Manufacturers' Exchange Signs an Agreement With Workers. - The Amalgamated Clothing Workers strike that began on June 25th came to an early end as the union won a number of concessions on minimum pay and unemployment insurance. I thought at first that Papa may have been a member of the Amalgamated and therefore sitting out work due to the strike, but I'm sure he would have written something about it.
  

References:

• FIRST BLOW STRUCK IN MISSOURI CLASH; Delegate, Charging Prevalence of McAdoo Money, Lands on Another, Calling Him a "Liar."

Monday June 30

Listened in to the balloting
at the Democratic con-
vention, all day and
night.

The seem to enjoy killing
time in balloting so many
times for a candidate. There
is a deadlock, and they
will as it seems to be
have to keep on voting for
many more days before
they will come to a conclusion.

---------------

Matt's Notes

The Democratic Convention balloting Papa refers to here started at 8:00 P.M. and went well into the morning, and while he was correct to predict a long deadlock, he probably didn't expect the convention to go on for nine more days. This kind of thing doesn't happen today since state primary elections determine the distribution of convention delegates' votes, but delegates of earlier eras controlled their own votes and could change them at will during the course of balloting. Conventions were therefore known for their furious horse-trading, calculated deals, and long meetings in proverbial smoke-filled rooms, most of which the public never learned about.

So, when Papa listened to the Democratic balloting, he was part of a fascinating cultural experiment in which ordinary Americans got their first intimate look at the quirks of their Presidential nominating system. (The Republican Convention had also been broadcast on the radio, but offered few surprising details since incumbent President Coolidge won the nomination handily; Will Rogers said "it could have been done by postcard."¹) Nowadays we can get all the parliamentary discord we can handle, but Papa's dismayed tone when he writes "they seem to enjoy killing time in balloting so many times for a candidate," gives us some idea of how odd such a live spectacle must have been. Presidential politics would, of course, never escape such attention again. Papa was really witnessing the true start of broadcast media's role in national politics, and more broadly the modern era in which national celebrity and media savvy would become prerequisites for political success.²

That said, the 1924 Democratic Convention was itself firmly entrenched in the old ways, so dark horse candidates and favorite sons could still make a showing. In fact, by the time Papa was done listening to the first night's balloting, he must have known that neither William McAdoo nor Al Smith would win the two-thirds of delegates' votes needed to secure the nomination. McAdoo, the frontrunner, would never put a dent in Smith's blocking control of the Northeastern and Midwestern industrial states, and Smith, with his vocal anti-Klan, anti-Prohibition and populist principles, had no chance with Southerners. (Some say McAdoo accepted this and planned to persuade the delegates, once they were thoroughly exhausted, to consent to a rules change that would let him win the nomination with a simple majority². Such a rules change did eventually come to a vote, but it never got anywhere.)

Attention was now starting to turn to John W. Davis, an attorney and former ambassador whose views were more akin to Smith's than McAdoo's. Stay tuned.

-------------

References

1 - From Erik Barnouw's A Tower in Babel: A History of Broadcasting in the United States to 1933

2 - From "The Revolution in the Presidential Nominating Convention" by William G. Carleton. Political Science Quarterly, June 1957.

Saturday June 28

Went this morning to
Shapiro, and went to
services in a Borough Park
Temple, later visited with
him Harry Eisenkraft
and winded up the day
in Coney Island where
I went to the evening services
in a synagogue there

----------------

Matt's Notes

Papa hasn't mentioned his Saturday worship habits that much throughout his diary, so I'm not sure if he typically went to synagogue twice on Saturdays or if this day was an exception for some reason. As far as I can tell it was not a Jewish holiday (Shevuoth was three weeks earlier) or a notable milestone in his mourning process (his father died five weeks ago). If you can enlighten me in any way, please write or drop a comment.

We do know the locations of Coney Island synagogues of the 20's thanks to the fantastic Coney Island History Project (via a tip on the coneyisland.com message boards) so do yourself a favor and check out some of the site's maps and information. For a number of reasons I think Papa went to the synagogue at West 31st street (listed on this map as Center Bikur Cholem) with his friends Shapiro and Eisenkraft, though I'd like to confirm this somehow.

Also among the throngs at Coney were 5,000 or so Democratic Convention delegates on an outing organized and led by New York's Mayor Hyland himself (according to the New York Times, they were "escorted by the Police, Fire and Street Cleaning Departments' bands to Steeplechast and Luna parks" among other distractions). They probably wished they could have stayed out there, too. The Convention proceedings at at Madison Square Garden had become rather sticky, due in part to 80-plus degree temperatures but mostly to the continuing battle over the influence of the Klan on the party platform. With balloting about to start, the Klan-induced schism was dominating all other Convention story lines, and delegates were digging in for a long fight.

----------------

Update:

Shows you what I know. My mother writes:

Religious Jews say Kaddish for the entire year, morning and night. When Papa died, Cousin Jeanie and Aunt Clara gave money to some organization on the lower east side, where aged men say Kaddish for the designated person, particularly if they are unfortunate enough to have no sons to do it.

And:

I just remembered the name of the lower East side organization that said Kaddish for Papa. It was called The Old Sages of Israel.

---------------

The Coney Island History Project also has a photo of a brochure touting Coney Island's role as an entertainment destination for Democratic Convention Delegates.

---------------

Update 10/30/07 - After The New York Times Sunday City section published a story on Papa's Diary Project on October 14th, I got an e-mail from the grandson of the above-mentioned Harry Eisenkraft. It looks like Papa's father was the brother of Harry's mother (making Papa and Harry cousins and the man who called me my own distant cousin). The photo below shows Harry Eisenkraft and his wife, Jennie, on their wedding day.

Friday June 27

Not important

------------

The words "not important," as I noted the last time Papa wrote them in his diary, seem charged with importance. While he has slowly chipped away at the despair he felt in the aftermath of his father's death, he has not yet figured out exactly how to get on with his life and is still inclined to feel unmoored and lonely. So, I'll ask again: when he says his day was unimportant, is he expressing his own feeling of unimportance?

--------------

I expect Papa spent much of the day listening to the Democratic Convention on the radio. Nominations were finally complete -- 18 candidates were officially in the field, according to the New York Times -- but intense conflict over the tone of anti-Klan language in the party platform had finally boiled over (committee members had literally come to blows over the issue on the convention floor.) The longest and most contentious balloting in convention history was about to start.

Thursday June 26

meeting of Maccabean

Smith got today a tumultuous
ovation when named for the
Presidency at the Democratic
convention, He is a good boy
I hope he will be nominated.

----------------

Matt's Notes

For those of you just joining us, "The Maccabean" refers to Papa's chapter of B'Nai Zion (a.k.a. Order Sons of Zion) a Zionist fraternal order and mutual support society closely affiliated with the Zionist Organization of America. Papa was a founding member of "The Maccabean" and served as its master of ceremonies.

"Smith" refers to New York Governor Al Smith, the anti-Prohibition, anti-Klan and anti-McAdoo hometown favorite at the 1924 Democratic Convention. The ovation Papa heard when a young Franklin Roosevelt nominated Smith was, according to the New York Times, "the loudest demonstration ever heard at a national convention" and "lasted an hour an thirteen minutes...it broke out again when later speakers from other States seconded the nomination and ran for twenty-three minutes more."

Alas, the Times coverage also described how the "outburst" was well-organized by Tammany forces (who brought in a marching band and distributed noisemakers to choice delegates well in advance) and lacked the spontaneity of Smith's introduction at the 1920 Convention in San Francisco, where he was seen as an up-and-coming star. It's hard to imagine that today's national press would even bother to point out the artifice behind the latest Giuliani or McCain or Clinton or Obama appearance, but perhaps back then the Times felt the need to clarify things for the radio audiences who had never before heard a convention broadcast. (I wonder if Papa listened to the demonstration in its entirety.)

Meanwhile, trouble continued to brew at the Convention over the inclusion of anti-Klan language in the Democratic platform. The truly spontaneous outbursts over this issue that were about to occur would make a much bigger impression, and be far more damaging to the Democratic party, than anything Tammany could cook up.



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References

OUTBURST BEATS M'ADOO'S; Smith Demonstration the Loudest Any Convention Ever Heard.

OUTBURST LACKED THE SPIRIT OF 1920; Tribute to Gov. Smith at San Francisco Was Joyously Spontaneous.

SMITH'S BIG OVATION WELL ORGANIZED; What an Observer on the Floor Saw of the Mechanics of Great Demonstration.

PLATFORM DRAFT SHAPED; Anti-Klan Idea and 34 Other Planks Reach the Main Committee.

M'ADOO MEN SOUGHT RECESS; Wanted Balloting on Nominee Last Night Before Klan Plank Action.

D'ADOO SEES PLOT IN ENTERTAINMENTS; Smith Men Are Accused of Seeking His Delegates by Showing Them Good Time.

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Image Source:

"Now step right to the front" by Clifford Kennedy Berryman. Library of Congress # LC-USZ62-10783. LOC says rights "may be restricted," so I'm looking into it.

Wednesday June 25

not important

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Matt's Notes

I'm never quite sure what to think when Papa sits down to write in his diary and chooses to say something like "nothing important." He's been so sad lately that I read it as "what's the use of saying anything?" but maybe he was just bored -- I think he had some days off due to his factory's "slack season," and he never enjoyed being idle.

Meanwhile, the Democratic Convention was on the radio (a showdown was looming over the inclusion of anti-Klan language in the party platform) and the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America were about to go on strike, so at least the news of the day held plenty of distractions for Papa:

• ANTI-KLAN PLANK PRESSED; Hawes and E.H. Moore Demand Plank Branding the Order.
• CANDIDATES ARE ALL ACTIVE; But Feverish Hunt for Support Fails to Clarify Situation.
• GALLERIES IN GARDEN BOMBARDED BY RADIO; Harrison's Rattling 'R's' Strike Upper Tiers Like Volley of Musketry.
• CALLS OUT 40,000 GARMENT WORKERS; Union Announces Strike in Men's and Children's Trade to Start Today

Tuesday June 24

11:30

I am now listening to the
proceedings of the opening of
the democratic convention

I love to listen in to Robert
McN Graham McNamee
Official announcer of W.E.A.F.
He certainly has a beautiful
way of presenting a picture of
everything in the most vivid
language, Before the Convention
opens at 12 now a fine band plays

2pm.

Whether I approve of the Democratic
platform or not their proceeding brings
forward my tears, a mighty party
of a mighty liberal country in convention
to chose a nominee for the Presidency.

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Matt's Notes

More than any other entry Papa has written about radio programming, this one puts us right in the middle of a hugely important moment in American popular culture. Though some early radio experimenters had taken stabs at live Presidential election coverage (most significantly in 1920, when the Detroit News shared updates from its news desk about the Harding-Cox election through its "radiophone" station, 8MK) live political convention coverage -- in fact, any detailed, live look at the American political process -- was entirely novel in 1924.

When Papa heard the opening remarks of the convention on WEAF, he was on the receiving end of American Telephone and Telegraph's most ambitious national radio broadcasting effort to date. AT&T had previously managed large-scale broadcasts by linking its many radio stations by telephone wire (and renting its wires to other stations that wanted to receive and rebroadcast their programming) but the Republican and Democratic conventions "provided sensational stimulus at precisely the time the broadcasters were technically ready for the challenge."¹

According to the New York Times, "twenty radio stations extending from Boston to Kansas City and from Buffalo to Atlanta" broadcast the Democratic convention. Eighteen of these were AT&T's, while their corporate rivals, RCA and General Electric, connected a couple of other stations through Western Union telegraph lines to carry broadcasts from WJZ, New York's other station on hand for the convention. Public address systems played radio broadcasts for crowds in various New York parks and squares, and radio set retailers set up their own loudspeakers to draw crowds to their stores. It was, as an advertisement proclaimed in the Democratic Convention Official Program, "indeed a radio summer!"

Papa's enthusiasm for Graham McNamee also shows him catching the beginning of a cultural wave. McNamee had made a name for himself as a sports broadcaster over the previous year, becoming one of the first practitioners of what would later be known as color commentary. His career continued to grow with the popularity of radio, and before his untimely death in 1942 at 53 he had secured himself a reputation as one of the great voices of radio. He would cover many political conventions during his career, though the 1924 Democratic Conventions may have been his most challenging; as we'll soon see, the Convention would go on to be the longest and perhaps most contentious in history, and McNamee's performance bordered on the heroic.

When Papa says "whether I approve of the Democratic platform," he's most likely referring to the divisive debate about whether the platform should include language explicitly condemning the Ku Klux Klan (America's relationship to the League of Nations, prohibition law and immigration law were also important issues of the day, but none were as publicly contentious). The Democratic front runner William McAdoo (it looks like Papa started to write "McAdoo" instead of "McNamee" in the second paragraph of this entry) received support from the Klan and declined to condemn them, while New York Governor Al Smith, the other leading contender, rigorously supported anti-Klan platform language. (The Klan's influential role in national politics was prominent enough to earn the Grand Wizard, Dr. Hiram Wesley Evans, a Time Magazine cover photo on July 23, 1924.)

As in many other matters, though, Papa's idealism and romanticism helped him overcome his apprehension. This entry may be filled with interesting historical and political tidbits, but nothing about it is more compelling to me than to read how Papa shed tears of admiration for his adopted country's political process. Would he still do the same today?

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Update 7/1/07

I just came across an article in the New York Times archive entitled
"Radio Taxi for Delagates; Cab Keeps Tabs on Balloting During Trips to the Waldorf." It describes the curious and unexpected phenomenon of a car equipped with a radio:

Delegates rushing back and forth between the Garden and the Waldorf-Astoria need no longer fear when stepping into Frank Bagan's taxicab of being out of touch with the balloting.

Bagan...turned up at the Waldorf yesterday afternoon...with a radio outfit installed in his taxicab.

He and whatever passenger he is carrying are each equipped with ear phones, and the aerial standing about two feed above the roof of the cab is the only grotesque feature to distinguish the cab from hundreds of others."

Bagan did not charge extra for the "radio service." Looks like the trend caught on, too. Here's a photo of a radio-equipped campaign car from 1924, via the Library of Congress:



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References

1 - From Erik Barnouw's A Tower in Babel: A History of Broadcasting in the United States to 1933.

Monday June 23

This is an idle day so I
went to the Yankee Stadium
but I regret going there because
the Yanks lost the doubleheader

My appointment with the
unknown girl I had to postpone
I was not in the mood to get
aquainted with a girl for mat-
rimonial purposes, so I called
up, and asked to be excused.

In evening Julius dropped
in and together we went to
5th ave, which presented a
magnificent view with its
brilliant illuminations and
buntings in honor of the
Democratic Convention.

-----------------------

Matt's Notes

Papa has never been too enthusiastic about meeting women expressly for "matrimonial purposes." He's avoided such introductions before and has shown a marked indifference toward the exertions of his local shadchan, or matchmaker, who probably set up the date Papa canceled today. Perhaps the Yankees' lackluster effort against the Washington Senators left him too uninspired to socialize; according to the New York Times, they "played with all the enthusiasm and bubbling spirits of a man being led to the electric chair. The title holders have lost all their sunshine and ginger, and their heads are down." (The contrastingly "snappy" Senators, who climbed over the Yankees and into first place with their double victory, would go on to win the American League Pennant and the World Series in a few more months.)

It's also hard to imagine Papa mustering the energy for small talk after his dramatically solitary excursion to Coney Island the day before. New York is terribly indifferent, and can even seem deliberately scornful, to the lost and lonely, and Papa's encounter with the "gay throngs" and sea of happy couples on the Boardwalk made him feel as alien as when he first arrived in America. The loss of his father weighed heavily on him still, and he felt, keenly, his inability to understand the language of happiness, to participate in the culture of contentment. He felt uncared-for and unwelcome.

Perhaps that's why he so enjoyed the spectacle of New York's preparations for the 1924 Democratic Convention, as they were deliberately designed to make the City seem a little more hospitable and safe to strangers. This seemed, in fact, to have been the chief concern of the Convention's organizers, as evidenced by the rather defensive essay about "The Wonder City" in the "1924 Democratic Convention Official Program":

New York is at once the most magical and the most misunderstood city in the world. It is probably more worshiped, feared, praised, slandered, loved and hated than any other city of all time.

The trouble is that although New York welcomes visitors, tries to make them feel at home, and offers them every possible facility for enjoyment and profit, it has not yet found a way to let all the people of the country know these things.

An Undeserved Reputation

Needless to say New York is one of the world's greatest playgrounds, providing every imaginable form of recreation and amusement of the visitor. In this respect it has gained a certain sort of reputation that is entirely undeserved. Despite all that has been said and written to the contrary, New York is morally one of the cleanest cities in the world, and the great majority of its theatres, cabarets, dance halls and other places of amusement are above reproach in this respect.

It consists of five boroughs: Manhattan, Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens and Richmond.

Alas, New York's "cabarets and dance halls" no longer play much of a part in New York life (there are dozens of "Chinese Restaurant and Cabaret" ads in the 1924 Convention Program along with many thinly-veiled ads for the very sorts of amoral diversions that surely would have horrified Convention delegates) and Presidential political conventions are no longer intriguing or meaningful. It's hard to imagine today, but as the convention neared, Papa had no idea who the Democratic nominee would be (former Wilson Cabinet member William McAdoo was looking strong) whether the Democratic platform would condemn the Ku Klux Klan, call for a change in Prohibition laws, or embrace the League of Nations.

Fortunately, there would be a new way for Papa to monitor the goings-on in 1924, as a Brandes radio ad in the Convention program enthusiastically pointed out:

Radio Reception more perfect this summer

Tremendous improvement in sending and receiving combine with better programs to provide the best of radio fun!

This is indeed a radio summer! The vital interest of the Presidential campaign -- waged right in your own home. The glorious and inspiring church services. The important sporting events, market reports, home hints, intensely interesting talks, gay music -- all these diversion are brought directly to you.

Why sending is better.

Last summer many high power broadcasting stations operated on a single wave length. This summer they are spread over a wave band. You may choose at your will. Sending stations have greatly increased their power and are spreading their programs over many more miles. Broadcasting from interconnected stations includes many people who would formerly have been deprived of the unlimited pleasures of radio.

Stay tuned.



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Image Source: "Interior of Madison Square Garden, New York City, prepared for the Democratic National Convention with bunting and chairs." Library of Congress #LC-USZ62-113345

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Update 6/24

A couple of New York Times articles ("New York Becomes Best 'Small Town'" and "City in Best Dress as Company Comes") describe New York's incongruously hospitable atmosphere on the eve of the Democratic Convention, and also devote lots of space to the Fifth Avenue (apparently nicknamed "Avenue of the States" for the occasion) decorations that Papa and his friend Julius checked out in the evening. Looks like there had been a parade on Fifth earlier in the day, and the streets "brilliant illuminations and buntings" drew quite a crowd:

Fifth Avenue, from Madison Square up to the Plaza and Fifty-ninth Street where is the court of honor, was glowing last night with the orange, white and blue lights that form a continuous string for the whole distance. In clusters on the pylons that hold the strings of lights are flags of the nations and of New York and the seal of the State honored in each block.

Many visitors inqure the meaning of the orange, white and blue combination. Any New Yorker can answer them that these are the colors of his city. It was remarked yesterday that, if the Hylan Administration's fondness for parades and pageants has done nothing else, it had at least let in all the sundry citizens on the secret of the civic colors.

And:

New Yorkers are traditionally curious about trifles and negligent of major spectacles. A few compressed-air drills and a couple of steam shovels digging a hole in the rock foundation of our city can draw a crowd of three or four hundreds at any time and anywhere, but when there is a big show New York passes by on the other side.

New York didn't do that yesterday, however. When residents of this city stand on the curb for two hours waiting to see the beginning of a parade, or sit for three hours perched precariously in windows along Fifth Avenue waiting for a parade to go by, it is a sign of changing times and changing habits. New Yorkers, most of whom came originally from small towns, are reverting to type, ad least for the period of this convention.

Papa was, of course, from a small town himself, but I hadn't considered that as a source of his fascination with the Convention spectacle until I read this article. I tend to see such events, when they come to town, as little more than necessary annoyances (or, in the case of the 2004 Republican Convention, grotesque, surreal invasions) but maybe I'm just a grouch.