Curio Cabinet / Person, Place, or Thing

It's Flashback Friday! In honor of Harlem Globetrotters’ Day, enjoy these sports-centric curios.
 

"Bribe and a miss!" In 1919, power-hitter "Shoeless" Joe Jackson and the Chicago White Sox lost to the Cincinnati Reds in Game Eight of a suspiciously close World Series. But it was another year before a grand jury would convene for an investigation of what would later be called the "Black Sox Scandal," a controversial fix so big it graced F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic 1925 novel The Great Gatsby.
 

As the jury probed White Sox players and other suspects, they found that the story behind the 1919 World Series actually began in 1918. That's when baseball's National Commission declared teams would be paid a new flat rate instead of by the ticket revenue they generated. Of all the players who felt their wallets deflate, the crowd-drawing, best-in-league White Sox took the biggest hit.
 

Accounts differ on what truly transpired, but first-baseman C. Arnold "Chick" Gandil said in court he met with a high-stakes gambler in the weeks before the World Series. In return for coaxing other teammates to help throw the game, the crook promised Chick and those interested portions of a $100,000 payout ($1.5 million adjusted for inflation).
 

As gameday neared, rumors of a fix were already abound; big betters were suddenly taking their chances on the Reds, despite the White Sox originally being a 3:1 favorite to win. On October 1st, Sox pitcher Eddie Cicotte beaned a batter with one of his first pitches in Game One, kickstarting a litany of uncharacteristic errors. After a slurry of walks, balls, and whiffed bats, the Sox fell behind 4-1 in the series—until they realized the mob wasn't keeping its word on the payout. The White Sox began to look like themselves again and bounced back to a 4-3 series. But for whatever reason (probably a stern chat with the displeased mob), the Sox lost game eight, giving the World Series to the Reds.
 

It wasn't until another suspicious game in the following season that eight White Sox players, dubbed the "Black Sox," were retroactively indicted on nine counts of conspiracy. But despite confessing most of their part in the fix, the court's papers mysteriously disappeared, leaving the case unsolved and the Black Sox free men. Still, baseball's first commissioner, Kenesaw Mountain Landis, decreed the Black Sox would never play professional baseball again. Whatever the case, we can safely bet the mob laughed its way to the bank!
 

Talk about a man of many talents. On this day in 1968, British writer Cecil Day-Lewis was appointed British Poet Laureate by Queen Elizabeth II due to his storied writing career. Day-Lewis was known for his lyrical poems, in which he described everyday occurrences and emotions in beautiful detail. But there was more to this Poet Laureate than met the eye. Not only did he publish mystery novels under a pseudonym, he was a staunch communist in his youth, willing to sign up to help the cause. And all that was before he became the father of famed actor Daniel Day-Lewis.
 
Born in 1904 in County Laois, Ireland, Day-Lewis expressed a love of reading from a young age. His mother, Katherine, died when he was just two years old. Afterwards, his father, Frank, a rector in the Church of Ireland, moved his family to London so that an aunt could help raise his children. After graduating from Sherborne School and moving on to Wadham College, Oxford, Day-Lewis met someone who would influence his career for years to come: fellow writer W.H. Auden, a British-American poet who focused not only on traditional poetic subjects, like love, but also didn’t shy away from politics. While working on his own collection of poetry, Beechen Vigil, which was published in 1925, Day-Lewis helped Auden edit his own book of poems titled Oxford Poetry 1927.
 
As the Great Depression cast its shadow over the 1930s, Day-Lewis’ political views shifted. To him, the Depression demonstrated the very worst of what capitalism had to offer. He became a passionate supporter of communism—views reflected in his early poetry and nonfiction work. After joining the Communist Party of Great Britain, he edited and wrote the introduction forThe Mind in Chains: Socialism and the Cultural Revolution, a collection of writings from influential communist, Marxist and socialist writers. However, as the 1930s progressed and human rights violations were carried out by communist nations like the Soviet Union, Day-Lewis’ view of communism soured. He later expressed regret for ever having supported it, even satirizing it in his writing. In 1935, Day-Lewis began publishing novels that were very far removed from his poetry: detective novels. Under the pseudonym Nicholas Blake, Day-Lewis would go on to publish 20 such books, most of them starring the character Nigel Strangeways, a young detective who solved crimes using his vast knowledge of literature.
 
After the outbreak of World War II, Day-Lewis worked as a publications editor for the Ministry of Information. The government agency’s main purpose was to create propaganda, and it was even satirized in George Orwell’s 1984, but despite his rather bleak day job, Day-Lewis began to establish himself as an important literary figure and powerfully effective lyrical poet. In 1940, he published one of his most famous poems, Is It Far To Go?, in which the narrator asks an unknown speaker about death. The third stanza of this poem was eventually engraved on Day-Lewis’ headstone. In his 1943 poetry collection Word Over All, Day-Lewis finally broke away from Auden’s influence and created what was, up to that point, his most popular work, which catapulted him to fame in the literary world. After World War II, Day-Lewis took a much more pleasant day job as director and senior editor at the publisher Chatto & Windus.
 
The 1950s and 60s saw more publications, fame, and prestigious literary jobs for Day-Lewis, including positions as a lecturer at Cambridge University and a Professor of Poetry at Oxford. In 1956, Day-Lewis wrote another of his most famous poems, which he didn’t publish until 1962. Walking Away focused on Day-Lewis’ love for his teenage son, and his mixed feelings over him becoming an adult. The immensely-popular poem might have contributed to Day-Lewis’ 1968 appointment as British Poet Laureate, an honor he enjoyed for just four years before his death, in 1972. Day-Lewis’ literary legacy is still considered one of the most important in modern European history, and if his poems concerning death are anything to go by, he likely would want to be remembered for his work, rather than mourned. As the final stanza of Walking Away states, “...love is proved in the letting go.”

 
[Image description: The entryway to a home where Cecil Day-Lewis once lived, with a blue plaque commemorating him.] Credit & copyright: Colin Smith, Wikimedia Commons, image cropped for size.

Call a priest, this film about demonic possession has been scaring audiences for nearly 50 years! On this day in 1973, The Exorcist premiered to immediate acclaim and changed the horror genre forever. Directed by William Friedkin, the movie tells the story of 12-year-old Regan MacNeil, whose mother, Chris, searches for help after Regan becomes possessed. Terrifying events occur as two priests attempt to exorcise the demon, called Pazuzu, from Regan’s body. Since The Exorcist was created before computer-generated special effects were available, filmmakers used a combination of practical effects, like makeup and puppets, plus music, lighting and camera work to create the movie’s iconic atmosphere of tension and horror. Of course, some fans say that the scariest parts of the film didn’t happen on screen, but during its production. Some even claim that the production itself was cursed.
 
The Exorcist is based on a novel which itself is based on a supposedly true story. In 1949, a series of exorcisms were performed on an anonymous 14-year-old boy and recorded by a priest named Raymond J. Bishop, who wrote about many supernatural occurrences throughout the exorcisms. Mark Opsasnick, an author who later investigated Bishop’s story, found that many of the details were untrue or unable to be verified. Nevertheless, the tale inspired writer, director, and producer William Peter Blatty to write a horror novel, The Exorcist, in 1971. The novel was successful, and Blatty was convinced it would do well as a film. Blatty thus decided to adapt his novel into a screenplay and produce a horror movie with his friend, William Friedkin, directing. Hollywood naturally wanted to fill the movie with celebrities like Marlan Brando, Jack Nicholson and Paul Newman. Blatty, however, cast relatively unknown actors in the film, wanting the public to associate his cast with The Exorcist, rather than past movies.
 
The role of the film’s central character, Regan MacNeil, was played by 14-year-old Linda Blair, a young horror fan who had read Blatty’s novel prior to auditioning. Blair had some help portraying Regan, though. In some scenes where Blair’s voice needed to sound more demonic, it was dubbed over with that of voice actress Mercedes McCambridge. In a few extremely violent or disturbing scenes, an older actress, Eileen Dietz, stood in for Blair. In the movie’s iconic “spider walking” scene, in which a possessed Regan crab-walks down a staircase, stuntwoman Ann Miles took over.
 
The Exorcist’s production was no walk in the park for any of its cast members, thanks to Friedkin’s controversial directing techniques. He insisted that the set be refrigerated so that the casts’ breath could be visible for a more eerie effect. This obviously made filming uncomfortable. At one point, Friedkin shot blanks on set to get a surprised reaction from Jason Miller, the actor playing the heroic Father Karras. He also slapped Father William O'Malley, who played Father Joseph Dyer in the movie, to get a more solemn reaction in a scene. Ellen Burstyn, who played Regan’s mother, suffered a serious back injury when a stuntman jerked too hard on a cable holding her in the air. Burstyn later claimed that Friedkin had ordered the stuntmen to jerk actors around in an unsafe manner, and even called him a maniac for leaving her real scream of pain in the film.
 
But what about claims that something supernatural was going on, behind the scenes? These rumors were inspired by a few unfortunate events during production. At one point, the set for the MacNeil’s house caught on fire. The only part that wasn’t burned was the area being used as Regan’s bedroom, where the majority of the movie’s demonic possession scenes took place. After the fire, a real priest was brought in to bless the set, just in case. Some fans also point to the fact that actors Jack MacGowran and Vasiliki Maliaros, whose characters die in the movie, both passed away in real life during filming. Their deaths were unrelated to the movie-making process, but it still struck many as a creepy coincidence. Though we’re not qualified to assess the supernatural, The Exorcist’s success, including the two Academy Awards it earned, probably had more to do with supernaturally-hard work than anything.

 
[Image description: A life size, special effects puppet of Regan MacNeil, the possessed main character of The Exorcist.] Credit & copyright: Mig Gilbert, Wikimedia Commons, image cropped for size

It's Flashback Friday! On this Christmas Eve, enjoy these curios about one of the world’s most observed winter holidays.
 

How a family business turned this Mexican plant into a Christmas staple.

It's beginning to look a lot like… poinsettia season! With its bright red petals and green leaves, this potted plant is a holiday staple. About 10 million poinsettias are sold in the weeks leading up to Christmas every year. The popular tradition is over a century in the making, starting with a trip across the border in the 1800s.
 
Poinsettias have grown naturally in Mexico for centuries. The Aztecs used the flowers to treat fevers and as an ingredient in red dye. They called it cuetlaxochitl, which meant "mortal flower that perishes like all that is pure." In 1825, U.S. Ambassador to Mexico Joel Poinsett was smitten by the flower's bright color. Poinsett had cuttings of the plant sent back to his hothouse in Charleston, South Carolina. He began growing the plant and sending it to his friends at botanical gardens around the country. Historians later named the plant "poinsettia" in his honor.
 
Paul Ecke, Jr. took the poinsettia from popular regional plant to national phenomenon in the 1950s and 1960s. A third-generation poinsettia producer, Ecke had grown up watching his father sell the potted plant at roadside stands in southern California. The plant was a steady seller, but no one associated it with the holidays. Ecke noticed the flowers were at their best in November and December. He bet he could turn the plant his family had grown for decades into a bestselling Christmas bloom.
 
Ecke sent dozens of poinsettias to TV shows like The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and the Bob Hope Show during the holiday season. When he learned that glossy women's magazines like Ladies' Home Journal did photo shoots for their Christmas issues in July, he bred a variation that bloomed during the summer so it could be included in the shoots. Ecke relied on popular lore to promote poinsettias as Christmas plants—like a Mexican legend about the flower being presented as a gift at Christmas services, or the idea that the color of the petals represented the blood of Christ.
 
By the 1980s, poinsettias had edged past chrysanthemums to become the best-selling potted plant in the country. They're even a Christmas fixture at the White House. The Ecke family sold the company in 2012 and are no longer actively involved with promoting the plant. But these poinsettia visionaries sure left their mark on the holidays!
 

Image credit & copyright: stevepb, Pixabay
 

It’s complex and undeniably depressing, yet everyone agrees this novel is a must-read. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, who passed away on this day in 1848, is considered a classic of the Gothic genre. Like other Gothic novels, it features a mysterious, foreboding atmosphere. However, unlike Gothic novels like Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights’ main focus isn’t on death or the supernatural (though both elements do appear in the book). Rather, it primarily focuses on the cruel side of romantic love, and how easily it can turn to obsession.
 
To understand a historic novel, it usually helps to understand it’s author. Born on July 30, 1818, Emily Brontë suffered several key losses at a young age. Her mother, Maria, died from an unknown illness which may have been cancer in 1821. In 1825, two of her elder sisters, Maria (named for her mother) and Elizabeth died of typhoid after an epidemic of the disease swept through their boarding school. Many historians believe that these losses contributed to the gloomy atmosphere of grief in Wuthering Heights. A farmhouse called Top Withens, in Haworth, West Yorkshire, England, near the home where Brontë spent most of her life, is said to have inspired the novel’s titular setting—a desolate estate, surrounded by moors, uncultivated hills of low-growing vegetation.
 
To say that Emily Brontë came from a literary family is an understatement. Her sisters, Charlotte and Anne, were also famed poets and novelists. Charlotte published Jane Eyre in 1847, the same year that Emily published Wuthering Heights. The following summer, Anne published The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, just a few months before Emily’s death. All three novels were published under male pseudonyms, as was common practice for female authors at the time, and all three are now considered literary classics.
 
Wuthering Heights focuses on the relationship between two families: the Earnshaws and the Lintons. Both families are part of the landed gentry, a social class of landlords who usually owned estates in the countryside. The plot revolves mainly around the Earnshaws’ adopted son, Heathcliff, and his step-sister, Catherine, with whom he is childhood friends and whom he later becomes romantically obsessed with. Throughout his childhood and adolescence, Heathcliff is treated badly due to his low social status as an adoptee. Although Catherine loves Heathcliff, she eventually marries Edgar Linton, due to Heathcliff’s low social status. Seeing this as the ultimate betrayal, Heathcliff leaves his estate for several years to accumulate wealth and return as a gentleman. While he is gone, Catherine’s obsession with him grows, and at one point she wanders the moors calling his name and crying. Three years later, Heathcliff returns with considerable wealth and gains ownership of Wuthering Heights, his adopted family’s estate. To torment Catherine, who still loves him, Heathcliff starts a relationship with Isabella Linton, Edgar’s sister. Jealous of Heathcliff, Edgar cuts contact with Catherine, whom he blames for Heathcliff’s presence. Pregnant with Edgar’s child, and heartbroken over her ruined relationships with Edgar and Heathcliff, Catherine locks herself in her room and refuses food. This causes her to fall gravely ill, and she dies during childbirth. Heathcliff’s obsession with her only grows, however. He implores her ghost to haunt him forever, and later reveals that he dug up her grave not long after she was buried. Eventually, his ghostly visions of Catherine torment him into refusing food, and he dies in her old room. Cathrine’s daughter, Cathy Linton, eventually falls in love with and plans to marry her cousin, Hareton Earnshaw.
 
Although Wuthering Heights explores the not-so-happy themes of class inequality and obsessive love in granular detail, its ending is optimistic. The marriage of Cathy, a Linton, and Hareton, an Earnshaw, could theoretically put an end to the cruel dysfunction that has plagued both families. Although the novel wasn’t particularly popular when it was first published and Emily Brontë died not long after its release, Wuthering Heights is considered a classic today due to the quality of its prose, the power of its story, and the honest glimpse into history that it offers. Catherine and Heathcliff probably could have benefitted from some healthy distance between them, though.

 
[Image description: Top Withens, the ruins of a farmhouse near Haworth, West Yorkshire, England, which is said to have been the inspiration for Wuthering Heights.] Credit & copyright: Dave.Dunford, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

Was ‘ol blue eyes in with a bad crowd? According to the FBI’s extensive file on famed crooner Frank Sinatra, who was born on this day in 1915, he had ties to the mafia which may have even helped his early music career. Sinatra always denied the government’s claims, and some fans argue that the FBI’s surveillance of him, which lasted a whopping 40 years, had more to do with his political beliefs than any legitimate criminal activity. There’s no denying that Sinatra’s early life and start in the music industry wasn’t easy, and he himself stated that, had he not been successful as a singer, he might have fallen into a life of crime.
 
Sinatra was born in Hoboken, New Jersey, as the only child of Italian immigrants. His mother, Natalina Garaventa, was an outspoken Democrat, midwife, and interpreter. His father, Antonio Sinatra, was illiterate, which limited his job prospects. For much of Frank Sinatra’s childhood, his father boxed for money. However, his athleticism eventually landed him a job with the Hoboken Fire Department, where he ultimately became a captain. Sinatra had the bad luck of being a teenager during the Great Depression, so money was very tight. He also suffered from facial scarring and a punctured eardrum due to the use of forceps during his birth. Sinatra’s famed fashion sense, however, predated his on-stage debut. Even when he was a young man, Sinatra’s mother encouraged him to always dress his best, and would often save up money to pay for his suits.
 
Although Sinatra never learned to read music, he developed an interest in it at an early age, especially big band jazz. As a kid, Sinatra idolized artists like Gene Austin and Bing Crosby, and he often sang at family gatherings. When he began taking elocution lessons as a teenager to improve his diction, his vocal coach told Sinatra’s mother that her son had an impressive vocal range. It was his mother who got Sinatra his first professional break by convincing a local singing group, the 3 Flashes, to let him join. Sinatra quickly became the group’s most admired member, and the 3 Flashes toured the country for a brief time. From there, Sinatra worked his way up from being a singing waiter to signing a contract with Tommy Dorsey, a jazz trombonist whom Sinatra greatly admired. As head of his Tommy Dorsey band, Sinatra made decent money, but grew frustrated with the band’s weak album sales. By 1942, Sinatra was convinced he needed to go solo, but convincing Dorsey to let him out of his contract was tricky. So, how did Sinatra do it? Some newspapers at the time claimed that he enlisted the help of his godfather, Willie Moretti, who happened to be the underboss of the Genovese crime family. Whether this was true or not, Dorsey did end up reluctantly letting Sinatra go, in 1942.
 
By 1943, Sinatra’s fame had skyrocketed. He was declared unfit for military service in World War II due to his punctured eardrum, but the war helped boost his popularity, particularly with young women, whom Sinatra posited were lonely and looking for an escape in his music. As Sinatra’s star rose, so did the rumors of his mafia affiliations. In 1946, Sinatra was spotted at the Havana Conference, a meeting of the U.S. mafia and the Cosa Nostra Sicillian mafia in Havana, Cuba. Sinatra played golf with Chicago mobster Sam Giancana and others. According to Sinatra’s FBI file he sometimes played gigs in mafia-owned clubs as favors to the mob.
 
The FBI also noted, however, that Sinatra’s supposed relationship with the mafia changed, as the singer fostered a friendship with President John F. Kennedy. This is because Kennedy’s brother, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy, was known for cracking down on organized crime. As Sinatra went on to be immortalized in music and film, starring alongside his idol Bing Crosby and others, most people forgot about or chose to overlook his alleged ties to unsavory characters. One thing’s for sure, when it comes to Sinatra’s storied career, he did thing’s his way...regardless of what the FBI had to say about it.

 
[Image description: Frank Sinatra, wearing a suit and hat, sits in an image from the 1957 film Pal Joey.] Credit & copyright: Public Domain

It's Flashback Friday! In honor of Dewey Decimal System Day, enjoy these curios celebrating books, authors, and literature.
 
 
Patchett has always been a passionate advocate of brick-and-mortar bookstores. In 2010, she co-founded Parnassus Books in Nashville, Tennessee with her friend Karen Hayes, a veteran of the publishing industry. When explaining the importance of independent, brick-and-mortar bookstores during an interview with Fifth & Flower, Patchett pointed out that many writers can't succeed without them. "One of the things that’s so important about having a real bookstore is—if Ann Patchett publishes a book, I’ve got a fan base and I’ve got guaranteed reviews in major newspapers and magazines and you’re going to hear about my new book out—but what about someone who is publishing their first novel, or collection of short stories, or book of poetry?"
 
In 2012, Patchett was named one of Time Magazine's "100 most influential people in the world." In 2016, Parnassus Books expanded into a larger space and added a bookmobile, to reach readers throughout the Nashville area. Last year, Patchett published two novels: Lambslide, her first children's book, and The Dutch House, about the bond that forms between a pair of siblings who are abandoned by their mother. Patchett has shown no signs of slowing down throughout 2020, publishing several articles this year about running a bookshop during lockdown and which books to read throughout it. Although Patchett hasn't announced plans for any new novels, her active presence throughout this year seems to suggest that her writing career won't be slowing down any time soon.
 
Image credit & copyright: Heidi Ross

Passionate political crusader or domestic terrorist? It depends who you ask when it comes to Carrie Nation, a woman best remembered for smashing up 19th-Century American bars with a hatchet due to her hatred of drinking. She’d surely be none too happy that Prohibition was overturned on this day in 1933, with the ratification of the 21st Amendment. To be fair, though, Nation had some compelling personal reasons for seeing alcohol as a social ill.
 
Born Caroline Amelia Moore in 1846, Nation’s life was difficult from the start. She suffered from poor health as a child, her mother was mentally ill, and the Civil War uprooted her family’s life several times. In 1865, a 19-year-old Nation met and fell in love with Charles Gloyd. Gloyd was a schoolteacher, physician, and former Union soldier. Unfortunately, he was also a severe alcoholic. His drinking was such a problem that Nation’s own parents objected to the relationship. However, this only delayed Nation’ marriage to Gloyd until 1867. Nation soon found that he spent more time at the local Masonic Lodge, which served alcohol, than he did at home. When Nation became pregnant, in 1868, she moved back in with her parents. In her autobiography, Nation later wrote, “I knew time was near at hand when I would be helpless, with a drunken husband, and no means of support.”
 
During Nation’s lifetime, American drinking culture was different than it is today. Bars, lodges, and other places that served alcohol catered almost exclusively to men. Many women thus found themselves in situations similar to Nation’s—living with drunk men who were sometimes absent and sometimes violent due to their drinking. Married women were not expected to work outside the home, so women in Nation’s situation had few ways to support themselves. Women couldn’t yet vote, so they had no political power with which to challenge alcohol’s legality. Instead, womens’ frustration with mens’ drinking helped form the temperance movement—a social and religious movement that promoted abstinence from alcohol. After her husband died in 1869 from complications of alcoholism, Nation joined the movement and soon became its most prominent leader.
 
By 1889, Nation’s life had taken a turn for the better. She had married again, this time to an attorney and minister named David Nation. In Medicine Lodge, Kansas, she started a local branch of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union. Along with other members of the branch, she would stand outside Kansas bars, preaching, yelling, and even singing to the patrons inside. In 1900, however, Nation decided to change her methods, after receiving what she described as a “call from God.”
 
On June 7, 1900, Nation gathered large rocks and went to Dobson’s Saloon, in Kiowa. She walked into the bar and began smashing their bottles of liquor, saying, “Men, I have come to save you from a drunkard’s fate.” She overturned tables and smashed windows. Once she was out of rocks, she left, gathered more, and attacked two other Kiowa saloons. At one point, she even used billiard balls to break windows and mirrors. Not long after, a tornado hit the Kiowa area, convincing Nation that God approved of what she had done. Nation now felt that she had an entirely new way to combat drunkenness.
 
She also realized that a woman smashing up bars was bound to grab public attention, and she leaned into the spectacle, seeing it as a way to convert more people to the temperance movement. Nation began carrying a hatchet, using it to smash bars throughout the state of Kansas and, later, Oklahoma. The hatchet became her most famous symbol, so much so that her bar-smashing episodes became known as “hatchetations.” She even sold hatchet pins to her supporters, who steadily grew in number thanks to the already-popular religious revival of the 19th Century.
 
Of course, not everyone was a fan. Mainstream newspapers often published unflattering cartoons of Nation. Bars began hanging signs with the slogan: “All nations welcome except Carrie.” By the time Nation stopped smashing bars, in 1901, she had been arrested at least 30 times for destruction of private property. Yet her influence pushed the temperance movement, and the debate over alcohol’s legality, into the national spotlight. Nation passed away in 1911, just nine years before alcohol was banned in the United States. It’s a bit of a shame that she never got to see her ultimate goal met. Then again, Nation likely would have gone a-smashing if she’d seen it overturned, in 1933!

 
[Image description: A black-and-white photo of Carrie Nation holding her bible and famous hatchet.] Credit & copyright: Public Domain

It's Flashback Friday! In honor of International Sweater Vestival, a day meant to celebrate the warmest of sleeveless clothing items, enjoy these fashion-themed curios.
 

The hoodie evolved from practical winter clothing to symbol of solidarity.

Despite its outer simplicity, this piece of clothing has a lot under its hood. First worn in the 1930s for solely functional reasons, the anonymity and comfort provided by the hoodie have since attracted wearers from all backgrounds. As many wait for the days to get warmer, everyone from high school students and stay-at-home moms to tech titans and Hollywood celebrities will be savoring the warmth of the hoodie. But the cozy clothing represents a whole lot more than physical comfort.
 
Though monks have worn hooded cloaks for centuries, the modern American hoodie got its start in upstate New York in the 1930s, when the Knickerbocker Knitting Company (now known as Champion) produced them for warehouse laborers who worked in freezing conditions. It was quickly adopted by athletes, as well. As high school football players and track stars started sharing their comfy sweatshirts with their girlfriends, the clothing entered the mainstream.
 
It wouldn't remain innocuous for long. Graffiti artists lent an edgier association when they started wearing hoodies in the 1970s to protect their identities and evade law enforcement. The hoodie's reputation as a sinister item was cemented in 1987, when a composite sketch of the Unabomber wearing one along with sunglasses was widely released. Though it still provided soft, cuddly warmth to all who wore it, it seemed like this particular kind of sweatshirt was destined to be associated with crime and the seedier side of life.
 
The hoodie paradoxically still remains both a practical, everyday sort of item and a heavily charged piece of clothing. In 2012, African-American teenager Trayvon Martin was shot and killed while walking home from a convenience store by a man who had found his "dark hoodie" suspicious. Protests against the shooting featured an image of Martin in his hooded sweatshirt, which again took on a new meaning; donning one became a sign of solidarity with those struggling against racial injustice. Next time we layer up with a hoodie, we'll be thinking of its many historical layers.
 

Image credit & copyright: StockSnap, Pixabay
 

Time to start counting down the days! For many, modern Advent calendars are a fun excuse to give themselves a small treat, such as a piece of candy, every day in December. But Advent calendars actually have a long history, tied into centuries of religious tradition. Since today is Advent Sunday, what better time to learn about the origins of this quirky holiday tradition?
 
Advent Sunday is the official start of the liturgical year, also known as the Christian year or simply the kalendar. This is the religious year within a particular Christian sect, which determines when certain religious readings and church holidays, such as saint celebrations, will take place. The holidays are meant to line up, in theme, with the birth, life, and death of Jesus Christ, the Christian messiah. Today, the liturgical calendar is most popularly observed by the Roman Catholic Church, although some other Christian denominations follow their own versions. Advent itself, derived from the Latin “adventus”, which means “coming”, is a time of preparation for Christians. While it is popularly seen as simply a preparation for celebrating Jesus Christ’s birth, on Christmas Day, Advent is also a time when Christians spiritually prepare for the Second Coming of Christ. Christians believe that this event will proceed Judgement Day, though their religious doctrine doesn’t state when, exactly, it will occur.
 
In 19th and 20th Century Germany, Lutherans began to mark the days of Advent leading up to Christmas via Advent candles. These traditionally-white candlesticks were marked with numbers and lines representing the days of Advent, starting with the last few days of November. Each day, the candle was burned a bit more, until, on December 25th, it was burned away entirely. Advent candles became popular when German children began using them as part of their Christingles—decorated oranges into which candles are inserted and which are carried through church during certain Advent celebrations. Although Christingles are still popular throughout Europe today, advent candles are not usually used for them anymore. Instead, the candles are burned in private homes and come in a variety of Christmas-themed colors, rather than just traditional white. Advent wreaths, featuring four candles which are lit on each Sunday during Advent, are also still a part of modern European Advent celebrations.
 
The Advent calendars we know today also have their origins in the 19th and 20th Century German Lutheran Church. The idea came about as a way to get children excited about the Advent season. Some traditional Advent Calendars were similar to tapestries, with embroidered designs and numbers for each day of Advent. Small gifts, such as wooden toys, nuts, dried fruits, or other sweets would be attached to the cloth near each number. As Advent calendars became more popular throughout Europe, more elaborate and varied designs emerged. There were calendars made from wood, with numbered shelves containing gifts for each day. Some calendars featured decorated, numbered gift bags tied to a string. Others resembled boxes, with small doors for each day of Advent, under which miniature paintings could be seen. On these calendars, December 24th and 25th usually featured the most elaborate paintings of Jesus Christ’s birth, Saints, or heavenly celebrations. The “surprises behind opening doors” style of calendar continues to be the most popular style of Advent calendar today. Like Advent candles, modern Advent calendars don’t normally include the first few days of Advent (a.k.a. the last few days of November) instead starting with December 1. For most, they are simply a way to count down the days until Christmas, and are commonly used by anyone who celebrates Christmas, whether or not their particular religious denomination observes Advent. After all, who couldn’t use some extra chocolate during the holidays?

 
[Image description: A traditional European advent calendar featuring stitched designs of children and lanterns. Gifts hang from loops under each number along the calendar’s bottom edge.] Credit & copyright: lindavrengs, Pixabay

It's Flashback Friday! In honor of National Native American Heritage Day, enjoy these curios about Native American history, ingenuity, and expression.
 
It's easy to see why this state is called "the last frontier"! Positioned near the top of North America, between the Pacific and Arctic oceans, Alaska is one of the U.S.'s most remote states. It's a place replete with wilderness, natural resources, and an impressive array of arctic wildlife. Yet it took quite a while for Alaska to become United States property, let alone a full-fledged state, and not everyone was happy with Alaska's statehood.
 
Alaska has been populated by humans since at least 14,000 B.C.E., when nomadic people crossed the Bering land bridge. Today, there are six main groups of Native Alaskans still living in the state: the Inupiat, the Haida, the Yuits, Athabascans, Aleuts, and Tlingits. The name "Alaska" comes from the Aleut word "Alaxsxaq", meaning "mainland" in English. In the 17th Century, contact was established between Native Alaskans, Russians, and Europeans. By the 18th Century, the Haida engaged in regular trade with them. However, when the Russians the majority of Alaska as a colony, in 1733, tensions began to rise between Native Alaskans, who had called Alaska home for thousands of years, and outsiders looking to profit from its rich resources.  

The 18th and 19th Centuries in Alaska were marked by conflict and disease. Nearly 80 percent of the Aluet population was destroyed by foreign illnesses due to contact with Russia. In 1857, a battle broke out between American settlers and a group of Haida and Tlingits who refused to recognize American authority. This culminated in a U.S. military officer, Colonel Isaac Ebey, being shot and beheaded by the Tlingits. In 1867, the same year that the United States bought Alaska from Russia for $7.2 million, an American ship brought smallpox to Alaska's shores. The Haida population dwindled from around 6,600 individuals to around just 830.
 
Russia had its reasons for selling Alaska. During the 19th Century, Russia and England were engaged in a power struggle called "the great game", in which both sought to become the most powerful nation on earth. As war threatened to break out between the two countries, Russia realized that Alaska would be strategically difficult to defend, and feared the humiliation of losing it to Britain. Instead, they opted to sell it to the United States, although the change of ownership was unpopular on all fronts at first. Many Russians felt that Alaska had been given up too quickly or too cheaply. Many Native Alaskans saw the deal as yet another foreign attack on their way of life. Many Americans didn't understand how their country could benefit from owning an "icebox" state. Some even referred to the deal as "Seward's icebox" or "Seward's folly", so named for the U.S. Secretary of State William Seward, who had signed the deal. However, the American populace changed its tune in 1896, when gold was discovered along a Klondike River tributary running through Canada and Alaska, ushering in the Klondike Gold Strike.
 
Despite having occupied Alaska for thousands of years, the indigenous peoples did not become U.S. citizens when Alaska was purchased. This meant that they couldn't vote or technically own property in their homeland. Their citizenship was finally recognized in 1924, when the Indian Citizenship Act was passed. 35 years later, in 1959, U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the Alaska Statehood Act, making Alaska the 49th U.S. state. Importantly, the act contained language guaranteeing certain ancestral lands to Native Alaskans. After several more decades of dispute, President Richard Nixon finally ceded 44 million acres of federal land to Native Alaskans, in 1971.
 
Although Alaska was scarred by colonialism, today around 120,000 of Alaska's nearly 740,000 people are Native Alaskan. The state also maintains a reputation as one of the most beautiful places on earth. Alaska contains the U.S.'s largest national forest, Tongass National Forest. It is also home to three of the world's eight bear species: black bears, brown bears, and polar bears, as well as more wolves than anywhere else on earth. Talk about a wild place with a wild history!
 
Image credit & copyright: 12019, Pixabay

Turns out, the ill-fated RMS Titanic had a sister ship. On this day in 1916, four years after the Titanic sank in the North Atlantic Ocean, the HMHS Britannic sank in the Aegean Sea. Despite their similar fates, the two ships served very different purposes, and the Titanic’s much-publicized destruction did lead to better safety measures for the Britannic, and a much-reduced loss of life during the latter ship’s sinking.

 
Both the RMS Titanic and >em>HMHS Britannic, along with their other sister ship the RMS Olympic, were built by the Belfast-based firm Harland & Wolff for use by the British shipping company White Star Line. All three were part of White Star Line’s Olympic class of steamships, and were intended to be used as transatlantic passenger liners. While the RMS Olympic made its first voyage in 1911 and went on to have a long, 24-year career serving both military and civilian purposes, the RMS Titanic famously sank on April 15, 1912, killing around 1,500 of the 2,200 people on board. Freezing waters and lack of lifeboats (the ship had just 16 boats and four rafts) both contributed to the massive loss of life. Thus, the Britannic, which was still being built at the time, was fitted with 48 lifeboats from the get-go, each one capable of carrying up to 75 people, ensuring that even if the ship reached capacity at 3, 309 people, everyone would have a place on a lifeboat. Builders also added more watertight compartments to the Britannic, which allowed incoming water to be more easily contained in case of emergency. The 882-foot ship took its first test voyage on February 26, 1914, but, as fate would have it, the Britannic would never become the passenger liner it was built to be.
 
In 1914, World War I broke out. The massive Britannic was immediately requisitioned as a hospital ship and given its full title, the HMHS Britannic, which stood for His Majesty's Hospital Ship. On December 12, 1915, the Britannic acquired a medical team of over 100 nurses, almost 400 military officers and a crew of close to 700. Her maiden voyage, on December 23, involved journeying from Liverpool to the island of Lemnos, in the Aegean Sea, to bring back over 3,000 sick and wounded soldiers. After sailing two more, similar voyages, the Britannic was released from military duty in June, 1916...but was almost immediately requisitioned as a hospital ship once more, and served on three more voyages without incident.
 
The Britannic’s sixth and final voyage began on November 12, 1916. The ship was meant to sail from Southampton to Lemnos, to pick up more soldiers requiring medical attention. However, at 8:12 a.m. on November 21, as the Britannic made its way through the Kéa Channel, near Athens, Greece, and the island of Kéa, an explosion suddenly shook the ship. It had come from a collision with an underwater German mine, and struck the Britannic’s starboard side. Captain Charles Alfred Bartlett, who was on the bridge when the explosion struck, immediately sent out an SOS signal and ordered the closing of all the ship’s watertight compartments. Unbeknownst to him, the explosion had damaged the Britannic’s communications antenna, making it so that, while the ship could still send transmissions, it couldn’t receive them. The Britannic’s crew had no way of knowing that several other ships in the area had heard its distress signal.
 
The Britannic’s watertight compartments soon filled, and damage caused several non-watertight areas, such as boiler rooms, to begin filling with water. The ship began to tilt, or list to one side, making it clear that it would soon sink. Hoping to beach the Britannic near Kéa, Captain Bartlett sent the ship full-steam toward the island. But water began flooding in through portholes due to the forward motion, and just 55 minutes later, the Britannic sank completely. Luckily, due to the abundance of lifeboats, only 30 people died, while over 1,000 were saved. The low death count likely also had to do with the ship’s experienced crew and their disaster training. When sailing the Titanic’s sister ship, it surely didn’t hurt to be prepared.

 
[Image description: A black-and-white photo of the Britannic during the time it served as a hospital ship.] Credit & copyright: Public Domain

Get your ballgown and high heels ready. Whether you refer to it as a beauty pageant or a scholarship program, Miss America has been a spectacle of glitz and glamour since 1921. In honor of Jo-Carroll Dennison, who was the oldest living Miss America until her recent death, on October 18, we’re digging into the storied, controversial history of this uniquely feminine competition.
 
In modern times, Miss America is a televised competition with organizers who are quick to point out that the contest involves brains as well as beauty. It’s a scholarship program, after all—the winner receives at least $50,000 in scholarship money and spends a year championing a specific social issue. Back in 1921, however, things were radically different. In fact, Miss America didn’t start out as an event that modern viewers would recognize as a pageant. Rather, it developed out of an event meant to attract people to New Jersey’s Atlantic City Boardwalk. During 1920’s Fall Frolic, three hundred young women sat in rolling wicker chairs and were pushed down the boardwalk in a sort of parade. The event drew such crowds that a local organization called The Businessmen’s League decided to hold a “bather’s revue” pageant on the Boardwalk the following summer, in which contestants would wear swimsuits and be judged on their looks alone. The pageant would be held on the weekend after Labour Day, to convince tourists to stay in Atlantic City longer. In order to make the event more exciting, The Businessmen’s League encouraged newspapers in surrounding cities to host their own pageants, so that all the winners could come to Atlantic City to compete in the inter-city finals. On September 8, 1921, the pageant drew around 100,000 people to the Boardwalk. 16-year-old Margaret Gorman, of Washington D.C., was officially crowned the “Golden Mermaid”, but newspaperman Herb Test dubbed her “Miss America”, and the rather dramatic name stuck.
 
Other than a brief hiatus during the Great Depression, the pageant continued and was eventually taken over by event-organizer and businesswoman Lenora Slaughter. During her 32 years as Pageant Director, Slaughter implemented several popular changes, such as adding an onstage question category to the competition and giving winners scholarship money rather than physical prizes or cash. She also improved the pageant’s overall image by inviting wealthy socialites to act as chaperones for contestants. However, Slaughter also greenlit several discriminatory changes. Most notably, she racially segregated the pageant via a rule which stated that it would only be open to contestants “of the white race.” Slaughter also implemented an age restriction of 18 to 25 years old, emphasizing that contestants had to be unmarried. While an age restriction of 17 to 25 remains in place, the pageant was desegregated in 1950.
 
As for the recently-passed Jo-Carroll Dennison, she won her Miss America title in 1942, shortly after the U.S. entered WWII. At the time, she was just 18 years old, but already had strong opinions about how women should be treated, and how they should view themselves. In a 2021 interview with People, Dennison reflected, “"Back in 1942, the pageant was mostly about looks. Yet I never thought I had won because of the way I looked, but rather because of the way I felt about myself. With this in mind I flat-out refused to wear my bathing suit onstage after the pageant, beginning with my very first tour stop," she explained. When asked how she felt about the pageant’s 2018 decision to do away with the swimsuit portion of the competition, she responded, “I am glad to have lived long enough to see how the women's fight against inequality, sexual harassment and abuse has finally come to the floor and I hope that future Miss Americas can help further the progress of healing the divisions in our country among racial lines, fight voter suppression and motivate us all to respond to the specter of climate change.” It may sound like a tall order, but Dennison clearly had faith that it’s nothing a modern Miss America can’t handle.

 
[Image description: Contestants in the 2014 Miss America Pageant pose for a photo on a New Jersey boardwalk.] Credit & copyright: U.S. Army National Guard photo by Spc. Brandon Jacobs, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

Carved gourds, plastic skeletons, children dressed as monsters roaming the streets...when you think about it, Halloween is a pretty strange holiday. Its origins, and the traditions that have surrounded it at various points in history, are equally odd. The ancient Celts, the Catholic church, and Irish immigrants to the U.S. have all played a part in forming the spooky autumn holiday as we enjoy it today.
 
Historians believe that Halloween’s earliest origins date back to the ancient Celtic peoples of central and northern Europe, who ruled much of the continent from 750 BCE to 12 BCE. The Celts celebrated the start of the new year on November 1 with a festival called Samhain. The Celts considered the start of the new year to also be the first day of winter–a season they associated with death. It makes sense, then, that the spirits of the dead were believed to return during Samhain. Along with the spirits of loved ones, however, the Celts believed that malevolent spirits made the journey back to the land of the living. These weren’t just ghosts, but also demon-like creatures and evil witches. To ensure that these frightful spectors wouldn’t recognize them, people celebrating Samhain made masks to hide their faces. Because Samhain was an inherently spiritual time, The Celts believed that it was a good day to practice magic, especially rituals related to telling the future. It was an idea that persisted for centuries, even after the Celts were conquered by the Romans.
 
Although different sects of Christianity are still divided on their feelings toward Halloween, the holiday never would have developed into its modern form without the Catholic Church. It all started in the 7th Century, when Pope Boniface IV established All Saints’ Day, to be celebrated with an annual feast, on May 13. As its name suggests, this was a day to honor all the church’s saints. However, since the church considered Samhain to be a sinful pagan holiday, All Saint’s Day was soon moved to November 1, in an attempt to overshadow Samhain. It was a valiant effort, but the public simply began performing most of Samhain’s rituals on the night before All Saints’ Day, turning that night into a holy, or “hallowed” eve. All Hallow’s Eve thus became a night in which people played games, told stories, and visited the graves of loved ones to pray and light candles.
 
In the 16th Century, Britain’s cultural landscape was drastically changed by The English Reformation, in which the Church of England broke away from the Roman Catholic Church and Protestantism was created. This spelled apparent doom for Halloween in England, since All Hallows Eve was still closely associated with Catholicism. However, Halloween remained popular in Catholic countries, particularly Ireland. In the middle ages, a practice called “souling,” in which people dressed as Saints and went door to door asking for food in exchange for songs and prayers, became a part of Catholic Halloween traditions.
 
The spooky holiday finally made its way to the shores of the U.S. in the mid-19th Century, thanks to a surge in Irish immigration. Halloween quickly became popular with American Catholics and non-Catholics alike. Some of its rituals, such as mask-wearing, are still a part of Halloween today. Others, such as carving Jack-O-Lanterns from turnips (not pumpkins) have changed over the years, but are still recognizable. However, early American Halloween also included practices that were very odd, by modern standards. For example, fortune-telling games were an extremely popular part of Halloween celebrations, especially amongst young women. In one such game, known as “three luggies”, a blindfolded woman would choose one of three bowls to dip her finger into: one filled with milk, one filled with water, and one empty. If she dipped it in the bowl of milk, it meant she would marry a widower, water meant a bachelor, and an empty bowl meant she would be a spinster. Printed Halloween cards, many of them featuring strange art of humanoid vegetables, were exchanged en masse. Some such cards included instructions for future-telling rituals and games. Though Halloween is still associated with magic today, scary movies have replaced old Halloween fortune-telling rituals, just as trick-or-treating has replaced souling. If only there was a ritual to tell us what kind of new new Halloween traditions will develop in the coming centuries.

 
[Image description: A vintage illustration from a Halloween card, featuring a woman in a starry dress with her arm around a man made of vegetables.] Credit & copyright: Public Domain