You've got to hand it to Lindsay Lohan - she sure knows how to make headlines.
I would not have given the article a second glance. The headline said it all, "'Golden Girl of Follies' Held on Dope Charge." There was a photo of the starlet, caught in that awkward millisecond where one is suddenly aware of a camera facing their direction, but has not quite had the time to react in a dignified fashion. Her face was posed in the most gauche manner and her dishwater blonde hair hung in loose strands.
But of course, it wasn't Lindsay Lohan. The article was from the Milwaukee Sentinel, published Aug. 4, 1939. I would not have given it a second glance, but for the fact that I was struck by the recognition that some things do not change. This is an article that could have been written today, about any one of a number of Hollywood train wrecks.
The subject of this blurb was a Miss Helen Lee Worthing, "Once toasted on Broadway as the 'glorious, golden girl of the follies.'" She married a prominent physician, but her life quickly began a vicious downward spiral. Her marriage ended in divorce, she fell out of favor on the silver screen, and eventually wound up involved in drugs. Judging by this article, it becomes apparent that tabloid journalism was as prominent in 1939 as it is today.
Miss Worthing does not do herself any favors, however. She was apprehended in Los Angeles, where a hypodermic needle and narcotics were discovered in her handbag. She was attempting to obtain narcotics with a forged prescription, and remarked that she only married the doctor because she thought he was of a different ethnicity than he really was. I cannot, nor would I want to, quote her directly, because her comments were overtly racist. Fortunately, some things do change.
I literally laughed out loud when I read this job offer. From the same newspaper, check this out: "Wanted: Master electrician with steady nerves, intermittent work at fees ranging from $150 to $250 per night; sometimes can make much more. (Exceptional money for 1939!) No more amateurs need apply, as successful applicant must have thorough knowledge of high voltage and general experience in electrical engineering. Easy hours on the job, although predecessors have complained of uneasy hours afterward. Not dangerous for the right man" (Milwaukee Sentinel, 1939).
Anyone thinking of applying for this position should probably read the headline as well, "East States Seeking New Executioner."
It became obvious at Sing Sing Prison that a professional executioner was needed to put inmates to death. You see, the regular executioner was at home, recovering from illness when a non-expert threw the switch in an attempt to execute two inmates. He botched it. The operation took 40 minutes for the pair, which means each man suffered 20 minutes of electrocution before passing.
The job offer continues most curiously. "With no intent to discourage a [genuinely] capable applicant," a new executioner is needed because of what happened to the predecessors of Sing Sing Prison: "The first switchman dropped dead in the prison office, (the next) became a recluse, (while the third executioner) shot himself fatally."
More than 100 applications were sent to the prison in response to this ad.
Speaking of odd tidbits, here is another attention-grabbing headline: "Couldn't Keep up Car Payments, Burns It." A Green Bay man realized that he simply could not afford the car payments on his 1932 sedan. So, he poured gasoline over the car and set it alight - in his driveway. He was arrested, pleaded guilty and was awaiting sentencing when the paper went to press. So the lesson here is, if you're thinking of setting fire to your car, precedence has already been established. It is a crime, so don't do it.
Speaking of crimes and prisons, take a second to ponder these circumstances: A man by the name of Dan Blue murdered a farmhand when he was 23 years old. In 1898 he was tried, convicted, and thrown into prison. In 1939, he was released. This was before television, radio, or even when prisoners were allowed to correspond with the outside world. While in prison, Blue earned 50 cents per day making straw mattresses and counting vegetables. This money was saved and eventually used to purchase a farm, so that when he was released from prison, Blue had a place to go.
Upon his release, Blue was driven to the farm in an automobile, over paved roads, while traveling 60 miles per hour. He had never seen a car before. In fact, he was taken to prison in 1898 via horse and buggy over a 12-mile stretch of muddy road. It took an entire day to go those 12 miles.
After 41 years of isolation, at a time when technological advances were booming at an exponential rate, Blue was "sickened" by the sight of fence posts flickering endlessly past. He had previously farmed with oxen, but now tractors were available. Of the money he had left, Blue was allowed to withdraw only $25 per month. He figured, according to the article, "That's about enough to live on, with what the farm should bring."
Finally, we have all heard the expression, "Don't put the cart before the horse." According to a 1939 feature called "Believe it or Not by Bob Ripley," it actually is possible. The trotter horse named King B pushed Fred Sporhase backward in his sulky.
The unlikely rig took just two and a half minutes to go a full mile. So there.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
I would not have given the article a second glance. The headline said it all, "'Golden Girl of Follies' Held on Dope Charge." There was a photo of the starlet, caught in that awkward millisecond where one is suddenly aware of a camera facing their direction, but has not quite had the time to react in a dignified fashion. Her face was posed in the most gauche manner and her dishwater blonde hair hung in loose strands.
But of course, it wasn't Lindsay Lohan. The article was from the Milwaukee Sentinel, published Aug. 4, 1939. I would not have given it a second glance, but for the fact that I was struck by the recognition that some things do not change. This is an article that could have been written today, about any one of a number of Hollywood train wrecks.
The subject of this blurb was a Miss Helen Lee Worthing, "Once toasted on Broadway as the 'glorious, golden girl of the follies.'" She married a prominent physician, but her life quickly began a vicious downward spiral. Her marriage ended in divorce, she fell out of favor on the silver screen, and eventually wound up involved in drugs. Judging by this article, it becomes apparent that tabloid journalism was as prominent in 1939 as it is today.
Miss Worthing does not do herself any favors, however. She was apprehended in Los Angeles, where a hypodermic needle and narcotics were discovered in her handbag. She was attempting to obtain narcotics with a forged prescription, and remarked that she only married the doctor because she thought he was of a different ethnicity than he really was. I cannot, nor would I want to, quote her directly, because her comments were overtly racist. Fortunately, some things do change.
I literally laughed out loud when I read this job offer. From the same newspaper, check this out: "Wanted: Master electrician with steady nerves, intermittent work at fees ranging from $150 to $250 per night; sometimes can make much more. (Exceptional money for 1939!) No more amateurs need apply, as successful applicant must have thorough knowledge of high voltage and general experience in electrical engineering. Easy hours on the job, although predecessors have complained of uneasy hours afterward. Not dangerous for the right man" (Milwaukee Sentinel, 1939).
Anyone thinking of applying for this position should probably read the headline as well, "East States Seeking New Executioner."
It became obvious at Sing Sing Prison that a professional executioner was needed to put inmates to death. You see, the regular executioner was at home, recovering from illness when a non-expert threw the switch in an attempt to execute two inmates. He botched it. The operation took 40 minutes for the pair, which means each man suffered 20 minutes of electrocution before passing.
The job offer continues most curiously. "With no intent to discourage a [genuinely] capable applicant," a new executioner is needed because of what happened to the predecessors of Sing Sing Prison: "The first switchman dropped dead in the prison office, (the next) became a recluse, (while the third executioner) shot himself fatally."
More than 100 applications were sent to the prison in response to this ad.
Speaking of odd tidbits, here is another attention-grabbing headline: "Couldn't Keep up Car Payments, Burns It." A Green Bay man realized that he simply could not afford the car payments on his 1932 sedan. So, he poured gasoline over the car and set it alight - in his driveway. He was arrested, pleaded guilty and was awaiting sentencing when the paper went to press. So the lesson here is, if you're thinking of setting fire to your car, precedence has already been established. It is a crime, so don't do it.
Speaking of crimes and prisons, take a second to ponder these circumstances: A man by the name of Dan Blue murdered a farmhand when he was 23 years old. In 1898 he was tried, convicted, and thrown into prison. In 1939, he was released. This was before television, radio, or even when prisoners were allowed to correspond with the outside world. While in prison, Blue earned 50 cents per day making straw mattresses and counting vegetables. This money was saved and eventually used to purchase a farm, so that when he was released from prison, Blue had a place to go.
Upon his release, Blue was driven to the farm in an automobile, over paved roads, while traveling 60 miles per hour. He had never seen a car before. In fact, he was taken to prison in 1898 via horse and buggy over a 12-mile stretch of muddy road. It took an entire day to go those 12 miles.
After 41 years of isolation, at a time when technological advances were booming at an exponential rate, Blue was "sickened" by the sight of fence posts flickering endlessly past. He had previously farmed with oxen, but now tractors were available. Of the money he had left, Blue was allowed to withdraw only $25 per month. He figured, according to the article, "That's about enough to live on, with what the farm should bring."
Finally, we have all heard the expression, "Don't put the cart before the horse." According to a 1939 feature called "Believe it or Not by Bob Ripley," it actually is possible. The trotter horse named King B pushed Fred Sporhase backward in his sulky.
The unlikely rig took just two and a half minutes to go a full mile. So there.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
