America’s Last Ice Age (more recent than you think)

InThePastLane                     January 13, 2013                        Edward T. O’Donnell

Headlines warning of an impending “ice famine” were common in the 19th and early 20th century during warm winters (NYT Feb 2, 1906)

What on earth is an “ice famine”? Well, if you were alive in the nineteenth century and the U.S. was experiencing winter as mild as this one in 2012-2013, the newspapers would be full of stories about a potential “ice famine.” The problem was not a shortage of ice in January and February, but rather in the coming summer because Americans, especially city dwellers, had come to depend on massive winter harvests of natural ice from ponds, lakes, and rivers to cope with summer heat and preserve their food. The creation of this ice industry is one of the more fascinating stories of American entrepreneurship. It’s also a story of a remarkable transformation of the American diet.

In an age of ubiquitous air-conditioning and refrigeration, it’s hard to comprehend just how much 19th-century Americanss depended on ice. By the 18th century, icehouses were standard features on most estates in Europe and even Colonial America, but for the common man and woman, especially in cities, ice in warm weather was as rare and expensive a commodity as caviar.

Frederic Tudor, the man known as the “Ice King” for his role in creating the American commercial ice industry.

That began to change a little over 200 years ago when, on Aug. 5, 1805, an ambitious Massachusetts man named Frederick Tudor set out to single-handedly create the world’s first commercial ice industry. A charismatic scion of a wealthy family, a tall, balding man with a gaze of hawklike intensity, Tudor possessed an almost evangelical commitment to the enterprise. “People believe me not when I tell them I am going to carry ice to the West Indies,” he confided in his diary the following winter. “Let those laugh who win.” Seven months later, a ship filled with 130 tons of ice cut from a Massachusetts pond arrived in the Caribbean island of Martinique.

Plagued by what he called “a villainous train of events,” Tudor struggled for nearly three decades, but his perseverance finally paid off. Along with his workers, the man who became known as the Ice King developed equipment and techniques that would allow ice to be harvested, transported and stored for commercial sale; by the 1830’s, Tudor was shipping his product to the West Indies, India and even Australia. Indeed, if you ever want to win a history trivia contest, here’s a question no one will guess correctly: What was the #2 (after cotton) U.S. export by weight in the 1850s? Yup, it was ice.

Tudor and his competitors soon discovered, however, that the greatest demand for ice came from American cities, especially New York. “I do not imagine,” the English novelist and travel writer Fanny Trollope observed in her 1832 treatise, “Domestic Manners of the Americas,” referring to a recent stay in Manhattan, “there is a home without the luxury of a piece of ice to cool the water and harden the butter.” Demand for ice grew so rapidly that by 1855 New Yorkers of all classes were consuming 285,000 tons annually.

Ice harvesting in the mid-19th century required new technology and lots of horse-power and human labor.

As demand for ice in the U.S. surged, many companies formed that developed ice harvesting operations in rural areas throughout the Northeast and Midwest. During the winter months it employed thousands of men, many of them workers in the lumber industry who normally lacked work in winter months. Using special equipment pulled by horses they cut huge blocks of ice and hauled them to large ice warehouses. When the warm weather set in, barges then carried the product to urban markets where it was then distributed to customers via ice wagons.

The availability of cheap and plentiful ice meant more than cool drinks in the summer; it changed Americans’ basic diet. Butchers, fishmongers and dairymen began to use ice to preserve their stocks, leading to significant improvement in food quality and public health. Ice also greatly increased the diversity of culinary offerings available to Americans as importers found ways to preserve previously exotic delights like freshwater fish. Ice cream, once the rarest of treats, became so popular that in 1850 a leading women’s magazine declared it a basic necessity. Ice likewise made possible cold beer and other alcoholic drinks. Temperance advocates, however, countered with “Moderation Fountains” during heat waves that provided free ice water as an alternative to the offerings of a city’s countless saloons.

Ice also delivered an impressive array of medical benefits. Doctors at hospitals soon discovered that ice could save lives and began prescribing it as a means of lowering the body temperature of fever victims, especially the young. During the summer, city hospitals issued free ice tickets to the poor, and crowds often grew so anxious outside free ice depots during heat waves that free-for-alls known as ice riots erupted. According to an account in The New York Times of one incident in July 1906, “a woman pulled a man’s mustache and another woman hit a man with a dishpan,” and within minutes, “the ice was scattered on the sidewalk and hundreds were engaged in a rough-and-tumble fight.”

N. Calyo’s painting, “Ice Wagon,” depicts an ice man in the 1840s.

By the 1880’s, about 1,500 ice wagons plied the streets of New York City every day. The burly, typically Italian iceman, a huge block of ice slung over his back and gripped with a pair of tongs, became as familiar a fixture on the urban landscape as the Irish beat cop.

During a typical week in the 1880’s, an iceman might deliver as much as 80 tons of ice, much of it carted up multiple flights of narrow and rickety stairs. The iceman’s daily interactions with housewives gave rise to countless bawdy jokes, an occurrence immortalized in Eugene O’Neill’s drama “The Iceman Cometh,” set in 1912.

While urban Americans clearly loved their ice—Manhattan and Brooklyn consumed 1.3 million tons in 1879 (more than a quarter of the national market)—they often loathed the companies that provided it, and in the 1880’s and 1890’s, a rising chorus of critics charged firms with price gouging and monopolistic practices. Ice companies tried to blamed summer price increases on mild winters that produced insufficient stocks–the aforementioned “ice famines.”

That claim didn’t work in 1896 when in New York City the city’s ice firms were absorbed into a massive national ice trust called the Consolidated Ice Company. Prices jumped 33 percent that spring, and more than doubled by midsummer. Hardest hit were the poor, who could afford to buy their ice, like their winter coal, only in small quantities.

Anger against ice companies persisted after 1901. Here an ice baron sits in an ice house wearing a hat labeled “Ice Trust” and writing, “Owing to the mild winter, we regret to say that ice next summer will be dearer than ever.”

Popular outrage reached new heights four years later in 1901 when investigative journalists revealed that Mayor Robert Van Wyck and other city officials had conspired to create a virtual monopoly for Consolidated. As the price of ice doubled, new revelations showed that the mayor and his brother had been given $1.7 million in Consolidated stock. The investigations produced no convictions, but the mayor, hounded by catcalls of “Ice! Ice! Ice!” whenever he appeared in public, was soundly defeated by a reform ticket in the election of 1901.

America’s ice age, however, was brought to a close not by reformers but by inventors who developed refrigeration and ice-making machinery. As early as the 1870s large brewers had begun to rely on mechanical refrigeration. Soon the meatpacking industry joined them. By 1900 refrigeration machinery was widely available. So, too, was ice making machinery. The final step came with the introduction of electric home refrigerators. By 1950 the iceman had been become as much a relic of a long-ago age as the blacksmith and the lamplighter.

I invite you to follow me on Twitter    @InThePastLane

Sources and Further Reading:

Oscar Edward Anderson, Jr. Refrigeration in America: A History of a New Technology and Its Impact (Princeton University Press, 1953).

Mariana Gosnell, Ice: The Nature, the History, and the Uses of an Astonishing Substance (Knopf, 2005)

Jonathan Rees, The Cold Chain: A History of Ice and Refrigeration in America and the World, forthcoming, John Hopkins University Press.

Carl Seaburg and Stanley Paterson, The Ice King: Frederic Tudor and His Circle (Massachusetts Historical Society and Mystic Seaport, 2003).

Gavin Weightman, The Frozen-Water Trade: A True Story (Hyperion, 2003)

 

 

 

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Why Notre Dame Originally Opposed the Name “Fighting Irish”

InThePastLane              January 1, 2013             by Edward T. O’Donnell

As sports fans across the nation await the big NCAA college football national championship on January 7, 2013, it’s worth exploring the origins of the teams’ names.  The University of Alabama’s team name—The Crimson Tide—originated by chance in the wake of an epic 1907 game against arch rival Auburn. But Notre Dame? How on earth did a college with a French name in the rural Midwest, far from the big cities with large Irish populations, come to be known as “The Fighting Irish”?  The answer reveals a great deal about the struggle for ethnic and religious acceptance in United States history, for Notre Dame originally opposed the name due to its potentially negative connotations and only embraced it in 1927, long after it had emerged a national powerhouse in football.

Notre Dame’s humble origins in 1842 are captured in its original Log Chapel. The University maintains a replica on its campus.

First, a little background. Given Notre Dame’s early history, few would have predicted the eventual nickname Fighting Irish.  Notre Dame, as its name suggests, was founded in 1842 by a group of French-speaking priests of the Congregation of the Holy Cross.  Situated in South Bend, Indiana, it drew Catholic students of all ethnicities from throughout the Midwest.  As Catholic colleges went, Notre Dame soon became one of the best, establishing the first Catholic law school in 1869 and first Catholic school of engineering in 1873.

It is important to note that in this late-19th century period Catholic colleges like Notre Dame, Fordham, Boston College, Georgetown, and College of the Holy Cross represented Catholic—in particular Irish Catholic—upward mobility and yearning for acceptance. Mass immigration since the 1830s had only recently created a sizable Catholic population in the United States, a development most native-born American Protestants viewed with alarm and anger. Anti-Catholicism and anti-Irish sentiment soared and remained a prominent feature of public life until the early 20th century [click here for many examples].

Political cartoonist Thomas Nast routinely depicted the Irish as savage brutes in the pages of the nation’s most popular journal, Harper’s Weekly. This image, published April 6, 1867, portrays St. Patrick’s Day as a bloody melee.

Take, for example, the assessment of a young Theodore Roosevelt in the 1880s that, “The average Catholic Irishman of the first generation, as represented in the [New York State] Assembly [is a] low, venal, corrupt, and unintelligent brute.” Or Harper’s Weekly a few years earlier: “Irishmen…have so behaved themselves that nearly seventy-five per cent of our criminals and paupers are Irish; that fully seventy-five per cent of the crimes of violence committed among us are the work of Irishmen; that the system of universal suffrage in large cities has fallen into discredit through the incapacity of the Irish for self-government.” In short, most Americans viewed Irish Catholics as people prone to violence, crime, corruption, drunkenness, and ignorance. They also viewed them as members of a church that was both wrong theologically and scheming to overthrow the American republic. One of the primary goals behind the founding of so many Catholic colleges in this period, therefore, was to improve the reputation of Catholics in the U.S. by minting generations of respectable, educated, and successful Catholic men.

A scorecard from the Harvard-Yale football game of 1890. Rivalry games such as this drew enormous crowds at the turn of the century.

Notre Dame went about this work in relative obscurity until the emergence of college football in the 1880s and 1890s as America’s second most popular sport (after professional baseball).  In an era before radio and television (not to mention fire codes), it was not uncommon for 30,000 fans to turn out for games between Harvard and Yale, or Army and Navy.  They were the powerhouse teams that Notre Dame eyed as it began its rise.  In the eyes of ethnic Catholics, these schools stood as bastions not only of football prowess, but also of elite Protestant privilege.  As such they became irresistible opponents for Notre Dame.

Knute Rockne first earned fame as a player for Notre Dame, He later took over as coach and led the team to four national championships.

Notre Dame’s football program started in 1887 and gained national recognition by the early 20th century.  A stunning victory over Michigan in 1909 paved the way for contests against other top-level teams.  Notre Dame’s breakthrough moment came in 1913 when, led by captain Knute Rockne, it upset Army 35-13.  The game is considered one of the most important in college football history because it was the first time a team made extensive (17 attempts) and successful (14 completions and two TD’s) use of the little-used forward pass.  Rockne took over as coach in 1918 and guided the team to a succession of winning seasons, including national championships in 1919, 1924, 1929, and 1930.

In 1924 famed sportswriter Grantland Rice dubbed the four members of Notre Dame’s extraordinarily successful backfield The Four Horsemen.

By the mid-1920s, Notre Dame was by far the best-known Catholic university in the nation.  As a consequence, it was the first college football team with a truly national following as Catholics from Baltimore to Boise to Berkeley adopted the team as their own even if they never attended Notre Dame.  These fans, known as “subway alumni,” might root for Georgetown or Holy Cross as their local favorites, but they avidly read the details of Notre Dame’s exploits in the Sunday sports sections.  Irish Catholics especially identified with the David and Goliath quality of Notre Dame’s rise.  As a group, Irish Catholics had begun by the 1910s and 1920s to earn a measure of success and acceptance in a nation long hostile to Catholics.  As they did so, they took enormous pride in the ability of Notre Dame to knock off teams like Princeton and Army.  Keenly aware of this phenomenon, Rockne and his successors made it a policy (which stood until 1975) never to play the other top Catholic college teams.

The team’s success and national reputation increased the pressure on the school to adopt an official nickname.  In the early days of intercollegiate sports, college teams had no nicknames; they simply played as Harvard, Northwestern, or USC.  But by the 1920s teams began to take on nicknames, often courtesy of sportswriters who were always eager to apply a catchy appellation. Most colleges were slow to choose an official name, but as time passed it became clear that they risked having sportswriters or students giving a less-than-suitable name to a college.

The Georgetown “Hoyas” in 1927

Georgetown, for example, gained its name “Hoyas” when its students took to chanting “hoya saxa!” at games—a mixed Greek (hoya) and Latin (saxa) phrase that translates as “what rocks!” The phrase might have referred broadly to the stalwart quality of Georgetown’s defensive line, but—students being students—likely referred more crudely to the players’, shall we say (ahem), testicular fortitude.

The legendary George Gipp carries the ball in 1919 for the as yet unnamed Notre Dame football team.

During its rise to national prominence, Notre Dame had been called many names, including simply the “Catholics,” but also the “Horrible Hibernians” and a host of other undignified appellations.  The first known reference to the team as the “Fighting Irish” occurred in the Detroit Free Press in 1909, but the name failed to stick.  Other nicknames like “Gold and Blue” came and went, as did the “Warriors” and “Ramblers.”   But in 1919, perhaps inspired by a visit to Notre Dame by Eamon de Valerra, one of the key revolutionaries working to achieve Ireland’s independence, the name “Fighting Irish” returned as a favorite nickname among the school’s students.  Rockne soon began using the name when talking to the press.

The turning point in the story came in 1925 when Notre Dame graduate Francis Wallace, then a sportswriter for the New York Post, began referring to the team as the “Fighting Irish” in his coverage of college football (his first choice was “Blue Comets” but that had not stuck).  In 1927 Wallace moved to the New York Daily News, one of the largest circulation papers in the nation and before long the name Fighting Irish was known coast to coast.

Rev. Matthew Walsh, CSC, Notre Dame’s 11th President who in 1927 set aside his reservations and gave official sanction to the name, “Fighting Irish” for the university’s sports teams.

But it still lacked official sanction from school officials.  Understandably, Notre Dame President Fr. Matthew Walsh, C.S.C and other school officials were leery of the name.  It conjured up the longstanding stereotype that the Irish were prone to fighting and violence—the very stereotype Catholic colleges were committed to eradicating.

Yet there was something attractive about the name in a society that worshiped competitiveness and a fighting spirit. Perhaps, if properly presented, the name might make the American public think of the great contributions made by the Irish Brigade in recent wars, rather than the many riots of the nineteenth century in which Irish immigrants played a prominent role.

Notre Dame’s President Walsh was inclined toward this more optimistic interpretation and so when a reporter from the New York World wrote him a letter in the fall of 1927 seeking his opinion on the popular name, Walsh responded:

The University authorities are in no way averse to the name ‘Fighting Irish’ as applied to our athletic teams… It seems to embody the kind of spirit that we like to see carried into effect by the various organizations that represent us on the athletic field.  I sincerely hope that we may always be worthy of the ideals embodied in the term ‘Fighting Irish.’

The valor displayed by Irish regiments, most famously The Irish Brigade, in the Civil War, Spanish-American War, and World War I helped improve the reputation of the Irish in America.

That settled it.  The fact that many of the football team’s players were not Irish (some weren’t even Catholic), generated a few raised eyebrows. But Knute Rockne defended the name: “They’re all Irish to me.  They have the Irish spirit and that’s all that counts.”

The rest is history. The University of Notre Dame went on to win national championships (in addition to earlier ones in 1919 and 1924) in 1929, 1930, 1943, 1946, 1947, 1949, 1964, 1966, 1973, 1977, 1988 for a total of 13 (some say 15, but you’ll have to look up the seasons of 1938 and 1953 to get the details).

The University of Notre Dame’s leprechaun mascot.

In recent years, with teams under pressure from various interest groups to drop names like Redmen and Warriors, one occasionally reads of a movement among some Irish Americans urging Notre Dame to adopt a new name (or at least to get rid of the pugilistic Leprechaun logo and mascot).  But even with a team comprised of only a handful of Irish Americans, don’t expect any change soon.  The faithful wouldn’t hear of it.

You can follow me on Twitter    @InThePastLane

Sources and Further Reading:

Jay P. Dolan, The Irish Americans: A History (Bloomsbury Press, 2010)

John Heisler and Tim Prister, Always Fighting Irish: Players, Coaches, and Fans Share Their Passion for Notre Dame Football (Triumph Books, 2012)

Kevin Kenny, The American Irish: A History (Oxford, 2000)

Jim Lefebvre, Loyal Sons: The Story of the Four Horsemen and Notre Dame Football’s 1924 Champions (Great Day Press, 2008)

Charles Morris, American Catholic: The Saints and Sinners Who Built America’s Most Powerful Church (Vintage, 1998)

Ray Robinson, Rockne of Notre Dame: The Making of a Football Legend (Oxford, 2002)

Murray A. Sperber, Shake Down the Thunder: The Creation of Notre Dame Football (Holt, 1993)

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Yes, Virginia, There Is A Santa Claus

InThePastLane                          December 16, 2012                                   Edward T. O’Donnell

Virginia O’Hanlon’s original 1897 letter to the NY Sun.

We’ve all heard the expression before as a means of acknowledging skeptical surprise. Sometimes it’s the full version—“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus”—and other times it’s modified to fit specific situations, as in “Yes, Virginia, some professional baseball players don’t use steroids,” or “Yes, Virginia, there are a few people in Hollywood who have married only once.”

The original version, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” originated 115 years ago in 1897. It all began in the summer of 1897 when eight-year old Virginia O’Hanlon took pen and paper and wrote a letter to the editor of the New York Sun, one of New York’s leading daily newspapers. “I am eight years old,” began her note.  “Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says ‘If you see it in the Sun it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?”

A young Virginia O’Hanlon, about the age when she wrote her famous letter to the New York Sun.

What prompted the letter, Virginia related many years afterward, was the fact that she had many friends who were extremely poor.  “Quite naturally I believed in Santa Claus,” she remembered, “for he had never disappointed me.”  But when her impoverished friends who received little or nothing for Christmas claimed there was no Santa, little Virginia “was filled with doubts.”

So, she turned to her father who, in the time honored fashion, dodged the question.  But he had the perfect mechanism for doing so.  Whenever there was confusion or disagreement in the O’Hanlon household over a fact of history or meaning of a word, Mr. O’Hanlon encouraged them to write to the Question and Answer column in The Sun.

“Well, I’m just going to write The Sun and find out the real truth,” Virginian declared to her no doubt relieved father.

“Go ahead, Virginia,” he responded, “I’m sure The Sun will give you the right answer, as it always does.”

Francis P. Church, the editor at The Sun who wrote the “Yes, Virginia” editorial in response to Virginia O’Hanlon’s letter.

Her letter eventually landed in the hands of veteran Sun editor Francis P. Church.  He’d been around a long time, starting as a reporter with the New York Times covering the Civil War.  For the last twenty years he’d worked at The Sun, most recently as an editorial writer.  Invariably when controversial issues needed to be addressed, particularly those related to religion or theology, Church wrote the editorial.

When Virginia O’Hanlon’s plaintive letter made it to his desk in late September, he could have easily passed the letter on to some anonymous staff writer for a quick innocuous reply.  But something in the letter made him pause.  Perhaps, he thought, this was an opportunity to say something meaningful about life, dreams, and innocence in an increasingly skeptical and commercial world.  He seized the opportunity:

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. …

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

… No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood. [find the full text of the editorial at the end of this piece]

Church’s “Yes, Virginia” drew a lot of attention and letters from the public, but curiously The Sun only reprinted the editorial twice in the decade that followed.  In fact, it wasn’t until the early 1920s–25 years after the original publication–that The Sun began to re-run the editorial every year at Christmas. Before long it was recognized as a classic. The Sun continued to publish Church’s paean to innocence annually until the paper went under in 1950.

Church retired a few years after writing the editorial and died in 1906.  Virginia O’Hanlon grew up and graduated from New York’s Hunter College in 1910.  She went on to a 47-year career in the New York City school system, first as a teacher and later as a principal.  Every year she received mail about her Santa Claus letter.  She cheerfully answered every one, and included a card bearing the text of Church’s editorial.

Virginia O’Hanlon, the little eight-year old girl whose question prompted perhaps the most famous defense of the Christmas spirit, died in 1971 at the age of 81.

And Santa Claus?  As one tough newsman once put it, “Thank God he lives and lives forever.”

I invite you to follow me on Twitter    @InThePastLane

Several books have been written about the “Yes, Virginia” story.

Full Text of the “Yes, Virginia” editorial -

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Sources and Further Reading:

 

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A Historian’s Defense of “Happy Holidays”

[NB: a version of this op-ed ran in the NY Daily News and Worcester Telegram last year]

Bill O’Reilly of Fox News has been a leading proponent of the notion that secularists are waging a “War on Christmas.”

Here we go again. If it’s December  then it’s officially the beginning of that annual ritual established a few years ago — the month-long explosion of outrage on talk radio and cable TV over an alleged “War on Christmas” being waged by a cadre of secularists who employ the phrase, “Happy Holidays.”

Particularly galling to these self-appointed defenders of tradition are retailers who avoid the word “Christmas” in their advertising and in-store decorations. In recent years, groups like Focus on the Family and the Catholic League have launched a variety of offenses, including an “It’s OK to Wish Me A Merry Christmas” button campaign and “watch lists” identifying “Christmas-unfriendly” retailers.

I must admit that the expression “Happy Holidays” once struck me as vapid — essentially the December version of the all-time vapid and meaningless phrase of modern times, “Have a nice day.”

But all this War on Christmas hysteria in recent years has led me to a new and heartfelt appreciation for the expression, for I see that it embodies both a fundamental American value and, strange as it may sound, one of Christmas’ core religious ideals.

Why defend “Happy Holidays”? Let’s begin by focusing on the profound republican virtue that lies at the heart of the phrase: respect for each and every citizen’s right to their own religious beliefs (or nonbeliefs). As Americans, we take for granted the idea that people of different faith traditions can live together in harmony. But our remarkably successful experience with religious pluralism is the exception, not the rule.

Twenty people died in the 1844 anti-Catholic “Bible Riots” in Philadelphia

Who can calculate the oceans of blood spilled over the centuries, from the Crusades to Darfur, in the name of religious zealotry? Indeed, American society was once beset with religiously inspired violence. Scores died in anti-Catholic and anti-Mormon riots in the 1840s and 1850s.

It has taken several centuries to develop and enshrine America’s much-cherished tradition of religious tolerance. It’s a hard-won tradition, and we should remain ever vigilant in protecting it from any group that seeks to impose its orthodoxy on everyone else. The “Merry Christmas, or Else” zealots are not preaching violence, but they are promoting a dangerous, unwelcome and ultimately un-American form of religious intolerance.

Even more compelling, especially for those (like me) who consider Christmas a religious holiday, is the spiritual argument in defense of “Happy Holidays.” Has anyone seriously interested in the religious meaning and significance of Christmas stopped to contemplate the absurdity of a campaign demanding that retailers, as Focus on the Family put it a few years ago, “put Christmas back in the holidays”?

Black Friday madness at a Target store

Retailers? You mean the people leading the relentless charge to transform Christmas into a grotesque exhibition of materialist excess, are now responsible for upholding the true meaning of the holiday?

Would anyone take seriously a campaign that urged beer brewers to “put sobriety back into tailgating”? Or Las Vegas to “put commitment back into express weddings”?

A brilliant spoof on the “War on Christmas.”
Source: http://symonsez.wordpress.com

Put simply, the angry charge against those who fail to say “Merry Christmas” is itself a very real assault on Christmas. After all, the holiday celebrates the birth of Jesus, an event the Bible tells us was hailed by a choir of angels singing, “Peace on Earth and goodwill toward men.” Raging against the inclusive, tolerant and ultimately harmless phrase “Happy Holidays” runs directly counter to this theme.

Indeed, it’s like making war on Christmas.

So here’s wishing you Happy Holidays — and all that implies.

Follow me on Twitter  @InThePastLane

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War and White Christmas: The Unlikely Ascent of the Most Popular Song in History

InThePastLane                           December 2, 2012                         Edward T. O’Donnell

The song “White Christmas” was recorded in May 1942 and debuted in August as a song in the film, “Holiday Inn”

“White Christmas,” the song that topped the charts 70 years ago in early December 1942, was a war song?  It’s true—not in its lyrics of days that are “merry and bright,” of course, but in terms of the context that launched it to an exalted status in the annals of pop music history. In fact, the connection between “White Christmas” and World War II is but one of several surprising details related to the song’s origins.

Like the fact that it was written by a Jewish songwriter (as was the case with many American Christmas songs, including “Rudolph” and “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”).  “White Christmas” was written by Irving Berlin.  Born Israel Baline in Siberia in 1888, he arrived in America with his family in 1893.  They settled on New York’s Lower East Side, at the time the largest Jewish enclave in the world.  But not everyone in the neighborhood was Jewish.  There was an Irish family living in their building and they took a liking to the young “Izzy” and often invited him into their apartment.  Thus it was in December 1893 that he witnessed his first Christmas in America—a warm a delightful experience he never forgot.  Later as an adult, he married an Irish Catholic woman named Ellin Mackay.  Because they raised their children as Christians, Berlin learned to love the holiday (albeit, its secular trappings) all the more.

In classic American fashion, Russian Jewish immigrant Irving Berlin wrote “White Christmas,” the most popular Christmas song of all time

Years later in January 1940, in the days following a happy Christmas holiday with his family, the now quite famous Irving Berlin penned, “White Christmas.”  He sat on the song for more than a year, unsure of what to do with it, until approached by a Hollywood studio to write the score for “Holiday Inn,” a film that featured songs about each of the major holidays.  Bing Crosby had been selected to play the lead and sing most of the songs. When he heard “White Christmas” for the first time, he assured Berlin that he’d written a gem.

By the time of the filming of “Holiday Inn,” Crosby was the most famous singer in America, perhaps the world.  His manly, yet emotive crooning was unlike anything that preceded it in the world of pop music.  This was due in part to Crosby’s extraordinary voice, but also to his technique.  He was the first singer to embrace and then master the microphone, a new medium for broadcasting and recording introduced in the 1920s.  Historians of pop music invariably speak of Crosby’s uncanny “caressing” of the microphone with his voice, creating an unparalleled intimacy and connection with his listeners.

Crosby recorded “White Christmas” in the decidedly non-Yuletide season of May 1942.  “Holiday Inn” opened in August and became an instant hit at the box office. So, too, was its centerpiece song, “White Christmas” (the only one sung twice in the film).  It hit the Top 30 charts on October 3 and kept right on marching upward until it hit #1 on October 31, a position it held for an unprecedented eleven weeks.  Decca, the label that produced the record, was swamped with orders and barely kept up with demand.

American soldiers in the Pacific celebrate Christmas in December 1943.

Berlin’s skill as a songwriter and Crosby’s talent as a singer had combined to produce an American classic.  But there was one additional factor that helps explain the phenomenal success of “White Christmas”—timing.  As Jody Rosen writes in his book, White Christmas: The Story of an American Song, the fall of 1942 was the first holiday season away from home for millions of American servicemen.  Demand by American GI’s for “White Christmas” records exploded in September – fully three months before the holiday.  The reason is clear: the song stoked their longing to be home with their families.  “In the song’s melancholic yearning for Christmases past,” writes Rosen, “listeners heard the expression of their own nostalgia for peacetime.” Indeed, in a way that astonished Berlin and nearly everyone else, this song of peace and love soon became a most unlikely war anthem.  Unlike George M. Cohan’s World War I call to arms, “Over There!”, “White Christmas” did not appeal to the martial spirit or vengeance.  Rather, it reminded Americans on both the frontline and homefront what was at stake in the war.  “When Irving Berlin set 120,000,000 people dreaming of a White Christmas,” opined the Buffalo Courier-Express, “he provided a forcible reminder that we are fighting for the right to dream and memories to dream about.”  When Crosby visited the troops in Europe in late 1944, his rendition of “White Christmas” brought tears to the eyes of the most battle-hardened soldiers.

For the next five years the Crosby-Berlin classic surged to the top of the charts each Christmastime, hitting #1 in 1945 and 1947. All told, it made the Top 30 sixteen times in the three decades that followed its release.  The song’s popularity and staying power proved irresistible to Hollywood executives who in 1954 released the hit feature film “White Christmas” starring Crosby and Danny Kaye.

Long after the film disappeared, “White Christmas” kept going, Crosby’s recording sold more than 30 million copies – more than any other pop song in history.  Dozens of singers, from Loretta Lynn to Destiny’s Child have recorded versions of the song, pushing total worldwide sales past 160 million – and counting.

None, of course, compare to the original as sung by Crosby in 1942, a song of peace, love, and fond memories of times “merry and bright” that arrived just when the nation needed it.

One last thought to consider: the U.S. has had many of wars since 1945 and each has generated its share of popular songs.  But none of them conjure up warm and fuzzy feelings like “White Christmas.” Indeed, some of the most popular were anthems that protested war—think Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” during Vietnam.  The reason is simple: World War II was the last war in U.S. history to begin and end with overwhelming popular support.

Follow me on Twitter  @InThePastLane

Sources and Further Reading:

Ace Collins, Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas (Zondervan, 2001)

Edward Jablonski, Irving Berlin: American Troubadour (Holt, 1999)

Penne L. Restad, Christmas in America: A History (Oxford, 1996)

Jody Rosen, White Christmas: The Story of an American Song (Scribner, 2007)

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