Cars

Tuesday Mar 18

by


Spent the night with
Rothblum first motoring around
with him and Mrs. Rothblum
in their car, and discussing
the possibility of my further
aquaintance with Miss. H.

After taking Mrs. Rothblum
to her sisters apt. we spent the
night at 2nd Ave Baths

I have resolved to call H.
the 20th Century girl because
in my opinion she mentally
stands above other women
her gayety, full of pep, and I’m
even told that she is smoking
cigarettes (to which I don’t object)
just the perfect 20th Century girl

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Matt’s Notes

The roller coaster ride called “The 2oth Century Girl” continues. On day one, Papa is sure he’s met the girl of his dreams; on day two, seized by pessimism, he literally says “I’m not worthy” and reprimands himself for his folly; on day three, in a scene that could be from a Jewish version of The Great Gatsby, we find him back in the game, “motoring around” and taking a steam bath with the friends who’ll help him plot his next move.

He’s rebounded quite energetically from the previous day’s funk, and in the process has given us another great look at the texture of life in his New York. When he says he motored around in a car, he likely means something like a Model T Ford or a Chevy touring sedan:

My friend Sixto, the highest car authority I know, says there were “hundreds of thousands” of these cars on the road by the 1920’s, and even wage earners like Papa’s friends could have picked one up for very little money. (There were also “a lot of car builders in Manhattan and Brooklyn,” but odds are Rothblum owned a Model T, especially since Henry Ford’s antisemitism wasn’t so well-known yet and wouldn’t have dissuaded a Jewish activist from buying his products.) Sixto also says:

The model T was incredibly sturdy as it was
built to run on crappy rural roads (many, if not most,
unpaved) and share the road with horses on cobble
stoned streets…

The driver of that car drove the car with a huge
steering wheel, and he most likely worked the fuel
from a lever on the steering wheel, while shifting AND
adjusting the timing of the ignition as required
(another lever on the steering wheel). THAT was real
driving.

I don’t have any pictures of Papa driving, but I do have this studio photo of him posing in a prop car with a “huge steering wheel”:

I can picture Papa discussing the “20th Century girl’s” non-objectionable tobacco habit at the Second Avenue Baths, obviously one of the many “schvitzes,” or Russian bath houses, that used to be common in New York. (“Schvitz” literally means “sweat” in Yiddish, and it can be used either as a verb, as in “I’m schvitzing from the heat already,” as a noun to refer to a bath house itself, as in “get me to the schvitz on time” or as a reference to the act of taking a steam bath, as in “I can’t think straight without a schvitz“.)

The only schvitz I’ve even been to is the Tenth Street Baths between First Avenue and Avenue A, and as far as I can tell the overall experience hasn’t changed in a thousand years (except for some coed schvitzing on select nights). The intrepid schvitzer can choose from a Turkish-style steam room, which doesn’t seem very popular, or a dry heat room, which is always full of betoweled men sitting on stone risers that appear to have been carved by ancient peoples from the very bedrock of Manhattan. For a couple of dollars extra, a large person will rub mineral-infused, soapy water on you with a leafy tree branch, and your friends will question your manhood if you don’t take a couple of dips in the icy pool right outside the sauna. This is apparently good for your circulation, which is important if you’re going to avail yourself of the steak-heavy menu in the restaurant upstairs. I usually only take a schvitz before a major milestone, as I did before my wedding, but in Papa’s day it was a much more casual diversion, and certainly an appropriate environment in which to discuss dating strategies.

Update 4/7:

Reader Dina points out the existence of an 1895 comic operetta by Ludwig Englander called “The 20th Century Girl.” Here are the details according to a site called musicaltheaterguide.com:

The 20th Century Girl; comic opera; 3 acts; libretto by Sydney Rosenfeld; Bijou Theatre, New York; 25 January 1895; revised and reopened 6 May 1895 (total 43 perfs)

And here’s a New York Times humor piece from 1912 that uses the same expression (subscription required). Looks like it was, not surprisingly, a common expression.

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Image credits

Library of Congress reproduction number LC-USZ62-63968. No known restrictions on publication.

Library of Congress reproduction number LC-DIG-npcc-02566. No known restrictions on publication.

Sunday June 29

by


Another day in Coney Island
with the boys, another dip
in the ocean.

We took a locker for the
season at Hahns at 31 st. sr
and went back to city with
running board of Rothblum’s
auto.

—————-

Matt’s Notes

I thought Papa wrote “we took a locker for the season at Hahus at 3rd. st.” when I initially transcribed this entry, and I figured it might refer to a street intersection or a public park or something like that. But, thanks to the good people who aided my inquiry into the matter at the coneyisland.com message boards, we now know that Papa was talking about Hahn’s Baths at West 31st Street. This map from The Coney Island History Project shows that Hahn’s was right on the Boardwalk and adjacent to the much larger Roosevelt baths (a housing development now stands in their place).

Interestingly, the Coney Island History Project also features several studio shots of people sitting in prop cars, so I wonder if the photo of Papa below was taken in a Coney Island photo studio:

The real car he rode in was, as we discussed during the first appearance of “Rothblum’s auto” back in March, was probably a Model T sedan like the one below:


I asked my friend Sixto, who earns a fat salary as the Director of Automotive Research for Papa’s Diary Project and is no stranger to New York City history, what it would have been like for Papa to ride the running board of a car all the way from Coney Island to the Lower East Side. Wouldn’t the roads have been less congested and faster-moving than they are today, even with slower cars? Was Papa some kind of crazed daredevil to attempt such a trip? No, says Sixto:

Many cars had running boards (and they were very
sturdy, I’ve stood on several although not while
moving)…

By the mid 20’s the city could be quite congested with
traffic at times so it could have taken a long time. I
wouldn’t be surprised if they sat in a traffic jam or
two leaving the very popular Coney Island area. June
29th was a Sunday, there could have been half a
million people there easily and probably more, and
while most took the subway, I’m sure there were also a
lot of autos on the street.

Good to know. Meanwhile, a world away in midtown Manhattan, the Democratic Convention took a Sunday break from its contentious proceedings. This allowed pundits time to speculate on how damaging the fight over anti-Klan language in the Democratic platform would be (as Will Rogers noted in a New York Times article, “It is a Sunday…so they can’t do anything. If you can keep a Democrat from doing anything, you can save him from making a mistake. “)

I’m sure Papa was distressed, as were many other Democrats, over the convention’s ongoing troubles. By now it was clear to most realistic observers that neither William McAdoo nor Al Smith, the frontrunners who stood on opposite sides of the Klan debate, would be able to muster enough votes to secure the nomination in an early ballot, if at all (as a Herald Tribune editorial pointed out, the whole debate was “portentous of disintegration.”) By contrast, the Zionist Organization of America had just held its twenty-seventh annual convention in Pittsburgh and, without much ado, reelected Louis Lipsky as its chairman. Perhaps, as Papa sat at home that night glowing with sunburn and reading the evening papers, he was happy to know that at least one of the organizations he cared about had managed to behave itself.

————–

Update:

Here are a bunch of cars in the real world (this is a detail from a 1923 photo of Coney Island’s Dreamland parking lot). Check out the groovy motorcycle at left, too:

References: