Democratic Convention

by


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:

Tuesday July 1

by


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:

Thursday July 3

by


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)

Friday July 4

by


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:

Monday July 7

by


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.

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References from the New York Times:

Other References:

Tuesday July 8

by


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:

Other references:

————

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.

Wednesday July 9

by


[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:

Other References: