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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

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Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Oh, and...

Daily_News_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(1).jpg

Oh, Charlie...
 
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("Y'know," sighs Sally as she and Joe stroll hand-in-hand up Rogers Avenue toward Ebbets Field, "t'way t'ings'eh goin', t'eh might not be too many moeh Sundays lef' weh we c'n do t'is." Joe is silent for a long moment. "I know," he finally agrees. "Sooneh'a lateh t'eh gonna draf' me. I mean, look -- it's a wawr, right? I mean, Solly's oveh t'eah gettn' shot, ya brut'teh's oveh t'eh doin' Gawd knows what, y'go'twa bawlgame, t'stans is half empty 'cause so many utteh guys is oveh t'eh. What right've I got not t'be oveh t'eh? I mean, we got a baby, an' I got whatchacawl'n essential jawb, an' I don' know t'fois' t'ing about shoot'n people, I can' even empty a mouse trap, I mean, t'ank Gawd we got Stella -- but if woise comes t'shove, I mean, a' co'ese I gotta go. I dunno what's gonna hap'n, but, I guess, neit'eh d'anyuvvus. So, I mean, yeh, maybe by t'enna t'is summeh I'll be off in a hole someplace, an' you'll still be heeh, but les' not t'ink about it , OK? Le's jus' be t'ankful t'day f'what we got left." Now it's Sally's turn to walk along in silence for a long moment. "Yeh, I guess," she finally sighs. "But I wasn' 'zackly tawkin' 'bout 't'at. What I was sayin' was it might not be too much longeh befoeh t'ey put me away. F'killin' Alice Dooley, y'know? Y'know what she done? T'is mawrnin' I foun'a piece'a tablet papeh inna was'ebasket, awl covehed wit' writin'. 'Alice Higbe,' it says. 'Alice D. Higbe,' it says. 'Mr. an' Mrs. W. K. Higbe' it says. "What's t' 'W?" interjects Joe. "Walteh," explains Sally, her mouth curling with distaste. "She says his real fois' name is Walteh." "Gawdawmighty," snickers Joe. "An'nat ain'a wois'," continues Sally, her voice rising. "Awla writin' is wit' lit'l hawrts wit'' arrehs t'rough 'em awl aroun' like she's in 8-B. 'Alice Higbe!' I ASK YA! I tell ya, Joe, t'time is comin'..." "Maybe t'ey otta draft YOU," chuckles Joe, as Empire Boulevard looms into view and the brick bulk of the ballpark rises to the west..)
...

Oh, Alice.

"ya brut'teh's oveh t'eh doin' Gawd knows what..." Joe can't help himself.


...

The manpower shortage is growing more acute in New York City, with statistics from the United States Employment Service indicating that there are only 68,000 unemployed persons in the five boroughs, compared to 400,000 last July. It is indicated that the so-called "Victory Shift" program requiring white-collar employees to take short shifts working on the production floor in war plants may soon be required in the metropolitan area. That program has been used to some success in Buffalo and Cleveland, with office workers brought into factories for a few nights each week to supplement the regular factory workforce. Government authorities are said to be in favor of the plan, but it is less popular with experts who manage skilled production, who doubt that office workers posses the necessary skills for factory tasks.
...

This could keep Joe from the draft.


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(3).jpg



(BLESS YOU FITZ!!!!!!)
...

The single most-fun thing to happen, by far, in 1943 is Fitz' comeback.


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(4).jpg



(No, that is not a regulation uniform.)
...

True, but it might be the cutest sailor suit ever made.


...

"Star and Garter" marks its first anniversary Wednesday night at the Music Box Theatre. The Gypsy Rose Lee-Bobby Clark gag-n-gal revue shows no sign of slowing down.
...

Phew, now Gypsy will be able to finish renovating her townhouse.


...

A B-26 bomber named after tennis-playing model screen star Jinx Falkenburg took part recently in the sinking of 22 Japanese ships and the downing of 80 Japanese planes in aerial combat at the Bismarck Sea off New Guinea. The fliers crewing the plane adopted Miss Falkenburg as their mascot when they stopped off in Hollywood before shipping out.
...

jfmfffltd.jpg

"Thanks for the honor boys" - JF


...
Daily_News_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(3).jpg


I miss teller cages. It made you feel like you were in an OFFICIAL PLACE instead of in the break room at a small-town industrial park.
...

The New Brunswick Savings Bank, in (of course) New Brunswick, NJ where I grew up and opened my first checking account in the early '80s, was one of those old-style classic-architecture fortress-like bank buildings that said "we are very serious about the business of protecting your money." The local Bank of America branch I use today in NYC looks like a cross between an upscaled coffee shop and a Gap store.

I miss those old banks, but I don't miss all the time one, even one like me in the '80s who had all but no money, used to have to spend in a bank (and bank line). ATMs killed a lot of jobs, but made life much, much easier for everyone else.


...
Daily_News_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(4).jpg


"Yeah, I know." TURN ON THE MACHINE.
...

Nellie might just be the stupidest comicstrip character we've ever met and, what, with "The Gumps," "Moon Mullins," "The Bungles" and others, that is saying a lot.


Daily_News_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(10).jpg
...


2-1 that the Coral Princess turns out to be Joy.
...

I think that's a good call, Lizzie.


...
Daily_News_Sun__Jun_20__1943_(11).jpg



PUNJAB!!!!!!!! Give'm the rug!!!

 

FOXTROT LAMONT

One Too Many
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Several sheet pages earlier Barbara Stanwyck and Jinx Falkenberg were featured in film ads and Ms Stanwyck
in Queen of Burlesque or Lady of Burlesque was quite the bombshell back in the forties. She was a hit over here with
The Big Valley and I always thought her sexier than Linda Evans or Joan Collins for that matter. She starred with Gary Cooper in another movie, Barb was a hot, real hot, red hot showgirl singer and Coop a college lit prof researching
street slang but he was just her foil. She stole that film out from under Coop.
 
Messages
16,857
Location
New York City
Several sheet pages earlier Barbara Stanwyck and Jinx Falkenberg were featured in film ads and Ms Stanwyck
in Queen of Burlesque or Lady of Burlesque was quite the bombshell back in the forties. She was a hit over here with
The Big Valley and I always thought her sexier than Linda Evans or Joan Collins for that matter. She starred with Gary Cooper in another movie, Barb was a hot, real hot, red hot showgirl singer and Coop a college lit prof researching
street slang but he was just her foil. She stole that film out from under Coop.

I believe the very good movie you are referring to is "Ball of Fire."
 

LizzieMaine

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Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_.jpg

("But what I'm try'na say," pleads Sally as the train bumps along home, "izzat t'is jus' ain' healt'y!" "Ahhhhh, ya fulluvit," scoffs Alice. "Y'know what ain' helt'y? T'is train ain' helt'y, t'is heat ain' helt'y, t'at guy oveh t'eah smells like t' Gowanus C'nal, he ain' helt'y. But Hig? He's helt'y! Lemme give ya t'woid onnat, sisteh. He's helt'y!" "An' he's MARRIED," retorts Sally. "How many times I gotta tellya t'at?" "He's a manna t'woil," dismisses Alice. "Menna t'woil has whatchacawla sophisticated pern'a view onneese t'ings. Y'know, he's been aroun', he tells me. He's been awl oveh t'woil'. Bawston, Philadelphieh, Pittsboig..." "Ahhhhh, noitz," grumbles Sally. "Cincinnati, Chicageh, St. Louie," continues Alice. "He's ev'n ben'ta Cubeh! TWICE!" "An'nee's got goil'fren's in ev'y one'a t'em places," snaps Sally, jabbing her finger in Alice's ample shoulder. "Getcha min' outa t'gutteh," scoffs Alice with a prim toss of her head. "Hig is whatcha cawl a sout'n gennleman. We go in a jernt, he cawls t'waitress 'ma'am.' He ain' no lug like Joe." "Don'choo say nut'n 'gainst Joe," growls Sally, balling her fists. "You otta be t'ankful Joe's such a decen' guy. Lotta guys woulda t'rown you out weeks ago." "Joe's OK," acknowledges Alice, "an," she adds with ever such a condescending tone, "ya lucky t'have 'im. He's t'right kin'a guy f'ra gal like you, takes e'vryt'ing so serious. But I wanna have fun, Sal. I do'wanna be no white glove lady like you an' ya pal Kilgallen. You jus' don' get it. Ya what, t'oity? Ya jus' a kid. Y'know how ol' I am? I'm t'oity-sev'n. Y'know what t'at's like? I'm awready takin' Lydia Pinkham's! But Hig 'preciates me f'what I am." "I bet he does," mumbles Sally, but she immediately regrets it. "Look," she sighs, "t'eah's utteh fellas aroun'. Afteh t'wawr, you'n Mickey c'd get backta'getteh, huh? "Alice frowns, her Pert Irish Nose wrinkling with distaste. "What?" demands Sally. "Nut'n," dismisses Alice. "Well," Sally continues, "I heeh you useta go wit' Jimmy Leary." "T'at gorilleh?" snorts Alice. "T'rows his socks onna floeh an' 'spected me t'pick'm up." "Awright, how 'bout Danny Leary?" "Ha!" hahs Alice. "I ain' even gonna TELL ya what HE wan'ed me t'do!" "Well," ponders Sally, "t'eahs -- um -- Hops Gaffney! He seems like -- uh -- a nice e'nough fella." "Hmph," hmphs Alice. "T'at pipsqueak? He'd need a stepladdeh." "T'eah jus' ain' no reasonin' wit'choo, izzeah?" "Ya ain' givin' Hig a chance," pouts Alice. "An' heeh I was hopin' you an' him would get alawng when he comes oveh f'suppeh Wen'sday night." "WHAAT?" yelps Sally. "Yeh," shrugs Alice. "I meant t'tell ya. Musta f'got. He likes pot roast. Y't'ink we'c'n stop at Bohack's onna way home an' get a good pot roast?" Sally's reply is lost as with a blast of its horn, the train rumbles toward Hudson Terminal.)

Anticipating the impending Allied invasion, Italy today drew heavily upon her remaining human resources, ordering 2,000,000 women between the ages of 18 and 24 and several hundred thousand men between 18 and 34 into war work. Axis dispatches monitored in London called the order "the most radical measure of this kind" in Italy's history. A Transocean News Agency dispatch from Rome stated that the order will mean approximately 8,000,000 to 9,000,000 persons out of Italy's total population of 45,000,000 will be involved either in war production or military service. The women called up under the new order will be assigned to farm work, with the men parceled out to fill the desperate need for factory workers. The order takes effect on July 1.

The Russians have destroyed more than 3600 German planes over the past seven weeks in a determined effort to cripple Axis air power in advance of the anticipated summer ground offensives, it was announced today by the Red Army, marking the second anniversary of the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union. Large forces of Red Air Force bombers pounded anew at German airdromes in the Bryansk-Karachev area at the junction of the central and southern fronts, the sector from which the Germans are expected to soon launch a summer drive toward Moscow.

The Office of Price Administration and the Office of War Information will fight for their lives this week in the U. S. Senate, after the House of Representatives last week pushed both agencies back against the wall, amending their appropriations for fiscal 1944 in such a way that the OPA will be unable to continue its rollback-subsidy program, and the OWI will be forced to discontinue its domestic operations as of July 1. OWI Director Elmer Davis has threatened to resign if the elimination of domestic OWI operations is allowed to stand, on the grounds that, if that occurs, "there will be no OWI, and my job will be ended." The OPA, however, showed no signs of backing down on its rollback-subsidy program, which this week reduced the retail prices of beef, lamb, and veal. The House action against the OPA followed a demand by War Food Administrator Chester C. Davis for full control over the nation's food supply. If he is not given that authority, Davis has threatened to resign.

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(1).jpg

(Bad enough he had to wait two hours for all the bookies to get done before he could even get to that phone.)

Preliminary steps for the postwar elimination of the Raymond Street Jail have been taken by New York City Sheriff John J. McCloskey Jr, according to the report submitted by the sheriff to Mayor LaGuardia. In his first report since he was appointed to the position after the elimination of the former system of county sheriffs, McCloskey noted that civil jails in Richmond and Queens counties have already been closed and their prisoners transferred to Brooklyn and Manhattan as the initial steps in a plan to consolidate all civil prisoners in a single central jail after the war.

Mayor LaGuardia hinted in his weekly radio broadcast yesterday over WNYC that he is considering running for a fourth term if it is necessary to continue his battle against commercialized vice, gambling, and indecent stage shows. "I hope," he declared, "and I am confident that I have the support of the clean, decent, law-abiding men and women of this city. I repeat again, I shall continue to enforce the law and protect the people of this city." The mayor pointed to his record since he was first elected in 1933, and continued "I know the overwhelming majority of people of this city are in favor of the kind of government I've been giving the people of this city for nearly ten years now, the kind of government that I intend to give them for the remainder of my term, and perhaps a little while longer if this filthy combination really wants a fight on this issue."

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(2).jpg

(Maria Montez, Jon Hall, and Sabu? Well, that's really all you need to know.)

"M. L." writes in to express annoyance at all the letters the Eagle's been printing lately about petty political complaints. These "mean little letters" should be "thrown in the wastebasket!"

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(3).jpg
(Can't adapt to current conditions, can you?)

Twenty persons were hurt in Greenpoint yesterday when two Manhattan-bound trolley cars collided at the Bedford Avenue elevated station at the Brooklyn approach to the WIlliamsburg bridge. Two passengers were hospitalized, and traffic was tied up on the line for more than ten minutes.

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(4).jpg

(Maybe Fitz should just pitch every game from now on. They could put a tub of ice on a stool next to the mound so he could soak his elbow between pitches.)

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(5).jpg

("Always with the shakes, though. It's good, gives her that 'vulnerable' air.")

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(6).jpg

(Point of order: wouldn't there be a creepy Scarlet-shaped empty displacement moving around in the water?)

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(7).jpg

("And now, back home to whip up a batch of Ex-Lax Brownies!")

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(8).jpg

(AND BE SURE TO SPELL MY NAME RIGHT ON THE MEDAL, IT'S 'BO' NOT 'BEAU!')

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(9).jpg

(HOW DO I KNOW, CAN'T YOU SEE I'M NEW HERE?)
 

LizzieMaine

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Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_.jpg

Hey, Alice, there's always THIS guy...

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(1).jpg

*snif*

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(2).jpg

I'm crying, for real.

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(3).jpg

All right gooseface, got anymore bright ideas??

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(4).jpg

Think hard.

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(6).jpg

"But how?" Ah, it's good to see the brilliant General Warbucks back in action.

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(7).jpg

Artie Shaw might be a jerk, but he never got mixed up in anything like this.

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(8).jpg

War is hell, for dogs.

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(9).jpg

"HAHAHAHA! Winthrop's an idiot!"

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(10).jpg

Poor sad walrus.
 
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Location
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Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_.jpg

("But what I'm try'na say," pleads Sally as the train bumps along home, "izzat t'is jus' ain' healt'y!" "Ahhhhh, ya fulluvit," scoffs Alice. "Y'know what ain' helt'y? T'is train ain' helt'y, t'is heat ain' helt'y, t'at guy oveh t'eah smells like t' Gowanus C'nal, he ain' helt'y. But Hig? He's helt'y! Lemme give ya t'woid onnat, sisteh. He's helt'y!" "An' he's MARRIED," retorts Sally. "How many times I gotta tellya t'at?" "He's a manna t'woil," dismisses Alice. "Menna t'woil has whatchacawla sophisticated pern'a view onneese t'ings. Y'know, he's been aroun', he tells me. He's been awl oveh t'woil'. Bawston, Philadelphieh, Pittsboig..." "Ahhhhh, noitz," grumbles Sally. "Cincinnati, Chicageh, St. Louie," continues Alice. "He's ev'n ben'ta Cubeh! TWICE!" "An'nee's got goil'fren's in ev'y one'a t'em places," snaps Sally, jabbing her finger in Alice's ample shoulder. "Getcha min' outa t'gutteh," scoffs Alice with a prim toss of her head. "Hig is whatcha cawl a sout'n gennleman. We go in a jernt, he cawls t'waitress 'ma'am.' He ain' no lug like Joe." "Don'choo say nut'n 'gainst Joe," growls Sally, balling her fists. "You otta be t'ankful Joe's such a decen' guy. Lotta guys woulda t'rown you out weeks ago." "Joe's OK," acknowledges Alice, "an," she adds with ever such a condescending tone, "ya lucky t'have 'im. He's t'right kin'a guy f'ra gal like you, takes e'vryt'ing so serious. But I wanna have fun, Sal. I do'wanna be no white glove lady like you an' ya pal Kilgallen. You jus' don' get it. Ya what, t'oity? Ya jus' a kid. Y'know how ol' I am? I'm t'oity-sev'n. Y'know what t'at's like? I'm awready takin' Lydia Pinkham's! But Hig 'preciates me f'what I am." "I bet he does," mumbles Sally, but she immediately regrets it. "Look," she sighs, "t'eah's utteh fellas aroun'. Afteh t'wawr, you'n Mickey c'd get backta'getteh, huh? "Alice frowns, her Pert Irish Nose wrinkling with distaste. "What?" demands Sally. "Nut'n," dismisses Alice. "Well," Sally continues, "I heeh you useta go wit' Jimmy Leary." "T'at gorilleh?" snorts Alice. "T'rows his socks onna floeh an' 'spected me t'pick'm up." "Awright, how 'bout Danny Leary?" "Ha!" hahs Alice. "I ain' even gonna TELL ya what HE wan'ed me t'do!" "Well," ponders Sally, "t'eahs -- um -- Hops Gaffney! He seems like -- uh -- a nice e'nough fella." "Hmph," hmphs Alice. "T'at pipsqueak? He'd need a stepladdeh." "T'eah jus' ain' no reasonin' wit'choo, izzeah?" "Ya ain' givin' Hig a chance," pouts Alice. "An' heeh I was hopin' you an' him would get alawng when he comes oveh f'suppeh Wen'sday night." "WHAAT?" yelps Sally. "Yeh," shrugs Alice. "I meant t'tell ya. Musta f'got. He likes pot roast. Y't'ink we'c'n stop at Bohack's onna way home an' get a good pot roast?" Sally's reply is lost as with a blast of its horn, the train rumbles toward Hudson Terminal.)
...

I get why Alice is dating Higbe, but why is he dating Alice? Baseball players had groupies back in 1943.

Hopefully, the kid who stabbed the gas station's nightwatchman fifteen times in the back was on drugs; otherwise, especially since he knew the man, he is one stone-cold killer. And all for $45 or ~$800 today.


...

The Office of Price Administration and the Office of War Information will fight for their lives this week in the U. S. Senate, after the House of Representatives last week pushed both agencies back against the wall, amending their appropriations for fiscal 1944 in such a way that the OPA will be unable to continue its rollback-subsidy program, and the OWI will be forced to discontinue its domestic operations as of July 1. OWI Director Elmer Davis has threatened to resign if the elimination of domestic OWI operations is allowed to stand, on the grounds that, if that occurs, "there will be no OWI, and my job will be ended." The OPA, however, showed no signs of backing down on its rollback-subsidy program, which this week reduced the retail prices of beef, lamb, and veal. The House action against the OPA followed a demand by War Food Administrator Chester C. Davis for full control over the nation's food supply. If he is not given that authority, Davis has threatened to resign.
...

Why is this gunfight taking place in public; it's 1943, shouldn't a political battle like this one be resolved behind closed doors in a smoke-filled room?


...
Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(1).jpg


(Bad enough he had to wait two hours for all the bookies to get done before he could even get to that phone.)
...

Let's not kid ourselves, though, a few of those bets those bookies are calling in are probably to lay off some of that sailor's action.


...

Mayor LaGuardia hinted in his weekly radio broadcast yesterday over WNYC that he is considering running for a fourth term if it is necessary to continue his battle against commercialized vice, gambling, and indecent stage shows. "I hope," he declared, "and I am confident that I have the support of the clean, decent, law-abiding men and women of this city. I repeat again, I shall continue to enforce the law and protect the people of this city." The mayor pointed to his record since he was first elected in 1933, and continued "I know the overwhelming majority of people of this city are in favor of the kind of government I've been giving the people of this city for nearly ten years now, the kind of government that I intend to give them for the remainder of my term, and perhaps a little while longer if this filthy combination really wants a fight on this issue."
...

Copy and past from an Eagle Editorial the other day: "Grown-ups should lead free lives: But even dictators, if they are wise, know that it is necessary to allow the people some freedom of choice in their private lives, in matter of sex, drinking, gambling and the like, even if those pursuits seem sinful and foolish to the governing powers."


...
(Maybe Fitz should just pitch every game from now on. They could put a tub of ice on a stool next to the mound so he could soak his elbow between pitches.)
...

That's freakin' hilarious. Although, he'd probably need two buckets, one for the knee too.


..

Brooklyn_Eagle_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(6).jpg

(Point of order: wouldn't there be a creepy Scarlet-shaped empty displacement moving around in the water?)
..



...

Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(3).jpg

All right gooseface, got anymore bright ideas??
...

Andy might be the worst businessman ever. One, sign the rainmaker up to a long-term contract before he starts making rain. Two, if you haven't, don't shout out loud where he can hear you about how much money he's making for you. And three, nothing matters if you only own 1%, which means Andy grossed all of $10 today.


...
Daily_News_Mon__Jun_21__1943_(6).jpg


"But how?" Ah, it's good to see the brilliant General Warbucks back in action.
...

He does just get in the way. Can't they kick him upstairs to an administrative desk job?
 

LizzieMaine

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Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Hig is one of these guys, and everybody knows one, who takes what they can get wherever they can get it. His memoir "The High Hard One" is quite candid on a lot of things, but for some reason he never mentions Alice.

There are some pretty rich Higbe stories in Peter Golenbock's book "Bums: An Oral History of the Brooklyn Dodgers." I won't repeat them here, because I don't want to spoil the book for those who haven't read it, but suffice it to say he's right up there with Mungo. And "Bums" is a great read for anyone fond of the Flock, of baseball, or of 20th Century Brooklyn and the people who lived there.
 
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Hig is one of these guys, and everybody knows one, who takes what they can get wherever they can get it. His memoir "The High Hard One" is quite candid on a lot of things, but for some reason he never mentions Alice.

There are some pretty rich Higbe stories in Peter Golenbock's book "Bums: An Oral History of the Brooklyn Dodgers." I won't repeat them here, because I don't want to spoil the book for those who haven't read it, but suffice it to say he's right up there with Mungo. And "Bums" is a great read for anyone fond of the Flock, of baseball, or of 20th Century Brooklyn and the people who lived there.

A used copy from eBay is on its way. Thank you for the recommendation.
 

LizzieMaine

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The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_.jpg

("Huh," huhs Joe in a saddened tone. "I dunno what's goin' on wit'tis country right now. Sal would say we'head'n'f' whatchacawl a reckonin' -- if she wasn' get'n awl woiked up oveh t'is bawlplayeh comin' oveh t'marra night." "More of Alice Dooley's doin', I s'pose," sniffs Ma, frowning her frowniest frown at the mention of the name. "I come home las' night," complains Joe, picking up the cue. "I look inna ice box. T'ezzis big hunka meat inneah, biggest I seen since t'wawr. I ask Sal, 'whazzat awlabout?,' an' she says it's f' Higsby!' I sez 'Higsby! Pitchehs goin' 3-3 otta eat hamboigeh wit' soybeans innit. Fitz should getta pot roas' but Higsby? We shoud t'row away ration pernts onna bum like t'at?' She says Alice spen'neh own ration pernts t'get it, but I got my s'spicions. I wawked by t'icebox t'is mawrnin', an' I says 'giddyup,' an' I sweah I hoid it jump." "I advise ye t'steer clear of baaalplayers," scowls Ma. "Loafaars, welsharrs, and buuums, th' lott'v'm. Mr. Fitzsimmons excepted of course. I tell ye, Joseph, baaack durin' the twoonties, Mr. Lieb haad many ballplayers coomin' in heer faar a refreshin' bev'rage." "T'ey liked his egg creams," Joe supplies with a nod. "Exaaactly, me boy. Exaacctly. Boot they'd pay, aaan' noine toimes oota ten, tharr checks waar noo daam good. Mr. Lieb paapered th' froont windows with soo many baaad checks from baalplayers ye cood scaaarcely see the suun!" "Payin' f' egg creams wit' checks," marvels Joe. "Ain'nat sump'n." "Of course, they'd maake good aafter Francis haad a talk with them aboot it. Boot it was like poolin' teeth." Ma pauses to interject a chuckle. "Sometimes it eeven coom t'that." "I din' know Uncle Frank useta be a dentist," replies Joe. "I t'ought he was a plumbeh." "A figure a' speech," hastens Ma, realizing what she said. "Now along with ye, an' I advoise before this Mr. Higglesby comes oover, ye hoide t'silvaarware." "Oh," says Joe, "we got t'at right down t'a science. We loint f'm Mickey." "What?" "Nut'n. Lateh, gateh!")

Early relief from the worst phase of the local gasoline shortage appeared in prospect today on the basis of a proposed Government plan to divert 9000 tank cars of fuel from other parts other country to the East Coast. These reports gave emphasis to a statement by War Production Board chairman Donald L. Nelson promising "relief at this time," followed by "a complete solution to the problem in the near future." Mr. Nelson made those statements before the special Eastern States Congressional Committee charged with investigating the East Coast gasoline situation.

The Senate Military Affairs Sub-Committee, citing a "dangerous sag" in homefront morale and the civilian attitude toward the war effort, called today for a quick end to the "business as usual" attitude of government, business, and labor, an atttitude which, the sub-committee asserted, has been retarding war production. The panel predicted that unless there is a sharp and immediate correction of the homefront attitude, the Allies will lose the initiative in the war. "To accomplish this," sub-committee members declared, "a vigorous policy of actively directing the war agencies in the performance of their mutually-dependent programs must be put into effect," and it was argued that the recent creation of the Office of War Mobilization under James F. Byrnes was an important first step in lifting the nation from the present "deepening crisis."

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(1).jpg

(Can you have one without the other?)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(2).jpg

(War is Hell.)

Mayor LaGuardia's arch-foe from Brooklyn Hill has sent a fresh jeremiad to Police Commissioner Lewis J. Valentine, complaining about "outrageous behavior" by a patrolman toward a neighborhood woman. In the letter, Aaron E. Eastmond, who has been conducting a one-man campaign to increase law enforcement efforts in his section, called the Mayor "Big Chief Rising Cloud," and complained to the Commissioner that one of the "Big Chief's uniformed force" harassed a woman on Cambridge Place, between Gates and Greene Avenues, "in such an outrageous manner" that "two ladies of the neighborhood protested to him." Mr. Eastmond asserted that the patrolman "used to them the same sort of language the Mayor uses to the press. Then he forcibly told them to mind their own business." Mr. Eastmond further stated that the patrolman then brandished his club in the faces of the women and threatened to arrest them. He told the Commissioner that he has brought the matter to the attention of the commander of the 88th Precinct.

Organized labor in New York State has given its full endorsement to the "Victory Shift" program which would require white-collar workers to take short night shifts in war plants as a partial solution to the manpower crisis. In some cases, unions in the state have begun recruiting drives to sign up Victory Shift workers on a voluntary basis. Union leaders say that they have relaxed initiaition and membership requirements for workers participating in the program.

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(3).jpg

(What, no advertising salesmen?)

An unidentified girl between the ages of 14 and 16 was found wandering in Bay Ridge yesterday, and was taken to Bellevue Hospital suffering from amnesia. The girl was picked up by Patrolman William Brown of the Fort Hamilton station near 80th Street and 6th Avenue, and was described as approximately 4 feet 6 inches tall, weighing about 96 pounds, with light hair, blue eyes, and a fair complexion. She was wearing a plaid dress and oxford shoes without stockings. The girl gave her name as "Pat O'Neill," but could provide no other identification.

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(4).jpg

("Hig's pitchin' today," grins Alice. "I got fifty cents down on him t'win." "Gamblin'," scoffs Sally. "Gamblin's f'chumps 'n' suckehs. Joe useta gamble, but I broke'im of it. Me'n LaGawrdia t'ink t'same way 'bout gamblin'." Alice raises a handkerchief to her face to stifle a laugh. "What?" demands Sally. "Jus' t'oughta sump'n funny Hig said t'utteh night," recovers Alice. "He cawl'd me his lit'l Scawrlet A'Harreh." "Lit'l!" snorts Sally. "Ya haffa head tawleh'n he is!" "I am not!" huffs Alice. "At leas' when I take me woik boots awf. T'en I'm jus' a quawrteh head tawlleh! Anyways, t'game otta'be gett'n oveh jus' about t'time we get t'ya ma's place t'pick up t'baby, so I tol' Hig t'meet us t'eah, an' we'd awl go home t'getteh." "Ya shouln'a done'nat," admonishes Sally. "Ma can'stan' bawlplayehs. C'ept f'Fitz." "Ahhhh," whatcha worried 'bout," dismisses Alice. "Hig is whatcha cawl chawrmin'. Heh! 'Scawrlet A'Harreh." "Y'sueh he din' say A'Horreh?" mutters Sally. "What?" "Nut'n. Yeh, what c'd go wrawng?")

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(5).jpg

("What? Don't be ridiculous, I'm just testing this new waterproof mascara.")

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(6).jpg

(Seriously, who DOESN'T want to run away and join the circus?)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(7).jpg

(Can't you read? FREIGHT ONLY! Wow, Dan is going all in on this new "scofflaw" persona. I bet he's even double parked!)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(8).jpg

(NO NO NO YOU'RE BEING RESCUED BY AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG! DIDN'T YOU READ THE SCRIPT?)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(9).jpg

(A valuable lesson was learned today.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
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Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...


Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(1).jpg


Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(2).jpg

It was a gentler time.

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(4).jpg

KEEP YOUR MIND ON YOUR WORK

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"I also ordered lunch, in your name. Hope you like liverwurst."

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"Just warn me when Dad gets home."

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"Pick your chin up off the floor." Oh, Min.

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(11).jpg

They REALLY should have turned on the corn shredder.

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(12).jpg
Someone just walked in and asked "are you crying?" and I had to explain why. Damn you, King.

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(14).jpg

Story aside, really Moon? THAT SHIRT???

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(15).jpg
And being so fat, it keeps him out of the draft!
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,031
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Oh and,

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(13).jpg

"Judas Priest!" sputters Mr. Rickey, banging down the telephone. "That's the fourth time today!" "Who was it, dear?" inquires Mrs. Rickey, leafing with disinterest thru an old copy of the Saturday Evening Post. "That's just it, my dear, that's just it," Mr. Rickey puzzles, as he paces the room in a tight circle, puffing nervously on his cigar. "The caller failed to identify himself. All he did was laugh uproariously, a loud, horse-like whinny. And then he yelled something about 'PUT MCDONALD ON THE LINE,' and when I responded that Mr. McDonald is now in Montreal," he bellowed 'MONTREAL! WHAT'S HE DOING THERE? YOU'RE FIRED!!' and hung up." "It was never like this in St. Louis, dear," chuckles Mrs. Rickey. "Judas Priest," grumbles Mr. Rickey.
 
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Location
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("Huh," huhs Joe in a saddened tone. "I dunno what's goin' on wit'tis country right now. Sal would say we'head'n'f' whatchacawl a reckonin' -- if she wasn' get'n awl woiked up oveh t'is bawlplayeh comin' oveh t'marra night." "More of Alice Dooley's doin', I s'pose," sniffs Ma, frowning her frowniest frown at the mention of the name. "I come home las' night," complains Joe, picking up the cue. "I look inna ice box. T'ezzis big hunka meat inneah, biggest I seen since t'wawr. I ask Sal, 'whazzat awlabout?,' an' she says it's f' Higsby!' I sez 'Higsby! Pitchehs goin' 3-3 otta eat hamboigeh wit' soybeans innit. Fitz should getta pot roas' but Higsby? We shoud t'row away ration pernts onna bum like t'at?' She says Alice spen'neh own ration pernts t'get it, but I got my s'spicions. I wawked by t'icebox t'is mawrnin', an' I says 'giddyup,' an' I sweah I hoid it jump." "I advise ye t'steer clear of baaalplayers," scowls Ma. "Loafaars, welsharrs, and buuums, th' lott'v'm. Mr. Fitzsimmons excepted of course. I tell ye, Joseph, baaack durin' the twoonties, Mr. Lieb haad many ballplayers coomin' in heer faar a refreshin' bev'rage." "T'ey liked his egg creams," Joe supplies with a nod. "Exaaactly, me boy. Exaacctly. Boot they'd pay, aaan' noine toimes oota ten, tharr checks waar noo daam good. Mr. Lieb paapered th' froont windows with soo many baaad checks from baalplayers ye cood scaaarcely see the suun!" "Payin' f' egg creams wit' checks," marvels Joe. "Ain'nat sump'n." "Of course, they'd maake good aafter Francis haad a talk with them aboot it. Boot it was like poolin' teeth." Ma pauses to interject a chuckle. "Sometimes it eeven coom t'that." "I din' know Uncle Frank useta be a dentist," replies Joe. "I t'ought he was a plumbeh." "A figure a' speech," hastens Ma, realizing what she said. "Now along with ye, an' I advoise before this Mr. Higglesby comes oover, ye hoide t'silvaarware." "Oh," says Joe, "we got t'at right down t'a science. We loint f'm Mickey." "What?" "Nut'n. Lateh, gateh!")
...

"Now along with ye, an' I advoise before this Mr. Higglesby comes oover, ye hoide t'silvaarware." "Oh," says Joe, "we got t'at right down t'a science. We loint f'm Mickey." "What?" "Nut'n. Lateh, gateh!")

LOL.


...

Organized labor in New York State has given its full endorsement to the "Victory Shift" program which would require white-collar workers to take short night shifts in war plants as a partial solution to the manpower crisis. In some cases, unions in the state have begun recruiting drives to sign up Victory Shift workers on a voluntary basis. Union leaders say that they have relaxed initiaition and membership requirements for workers participating in the program.
...

I'd bet you'd quickly see improvement in the plants' working conditions and efficiency as managers would get the ultimate hands-on experience while still being able to quickly change things.


...

An unidentified girl between the ages of 14 and 16 was found wandering in Bay Ridge yesterday, and was taken to Bellevue Hospital suffering from amnesia. The girl was picked up by Patrolman William Brown of the Fort Hamilton station near 80th Street and 6th Avenue, and was described as approximately 4 feet 6 inches tall, weighing about 96 pounds, with light hair, blue eyes, and a fair complexion. She was wearing a plaid dress and oxford shoes without stockings. The girl gave her name as "Pat O'Neill," but could provide no other identification.
...

Having the name "Pat O'Neill" in Brooklyn in 1943 should narrow it down to only tens of thousands of people. Heck, it wouldn't even narrow it down much if we knew her name was Pat O'Neill and that she ran a bar in Brooklyn in 1943.


...

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(6).jpg

(Seriously, who DOESN'T want to run away and join the circus?)
...

Eventually:


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(9).jpg


(A valuable lesson was learned today.)

Yes, and apparently, it's a version of the lesson Mr. Lieb learned unintentionally with egg creams and ballplayers in the 1920s.


...
Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(2).jpg



It was a gentler time.
...

Wonder if the seals would consider a H&H fishcake? I like the imagery of the seal pushing a nickel in the slot with its nose.


...

Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(8).jpg

"I also ordered lunch, in your name. Hope you like liverwurst."
...

Umm, guys, they have Annie on one of those subs you're trying to sink.


...
Daily_News_Tue__Jun_22__1943_(12).jpg

Someone just walked in and asked "are you crying?" and I had to explain why. Damn you, King.
...

As we said recently, he's doing, what should be, award-winning work here. Regardless, he is still brining the war to many Americans in a very important way even if he isn't and never did get the recognition he deserves.


...
518360-f766deb5505daf5e870efec030929764.jpg


And being so fat, it keeps him out of the draft!

I believe I've read that before, but could being overweight really keep you out? You can see the wrong incentive that would create.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,031
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_.jpg

("What time is it?" mutters Alice, staring out the kitchen window. "Five a' sev'n," sighs Sally, gazing halfheartedly at the Eagle. "Put onna radio," suggests Alice. "We c'n lis'n t' Amos 'n' Andy while weeh wait'n." "T'ey ain' on no moeh," Sally replies without looking up. "Wheh ya sp'ose he is?" asks Alice, nervously gazing into the mirror over the kitchen sink as she jitters a fresh coating of powder onto her Pert Irish Nose. "He din' show up atcha Ma's place, an' he ain' heeh." "Alice," Sally begins with a heavier sigh. "You din' check t'schedule b'foeh y'set t'is up, didja? Look heeh." Sally points to the lower left hand corner of the page. "See t'at? T'eh playin' a doubleheadeh. Din' he tell ya t'at when ya made t'date?" "Well, not 'zackly," murmurs Alice, her face reddening under the powder. "But, I mean, t'at don' matteh -- he won las' night! T'ey ain' gonna make 'im pitch t'night! He's prolly jus' stickin' 'roun' f'morale, right? An'nen when he's gott'mawl fiehed up t'win again, he's done 'is woik f't'day, an'ne's probly' onna way oveh right now. Look out t'windeh t'eah, ain'nat him comin'?" "Nah," shrugs Sally, with a quick glance outside. "T'at's Miss's Ginsboig downstaiehs takin' out 'eh gaw'bage. Anyways, he'd come up t' street out front, not roun'a coehtyawrd out back." "What time is it?" wrings Alice, as Stella the Cat leaps up on the table to investigate the aroma wafting from the covered pot and Sally shoos her off. "Two minutes'a sev'n," sighs Sally. "Joe done a good job wit'tat roast, dinnee," jitters Alice. "Hig is a good cook too. Y"otta try his bac'n, lettuce 'n tomateh sanwiches." "Joe's awrways been a good cook," declares Sally with a small smile of pride. "When he was growin' up, it was jus' him'n his sisteh, an' she was woikin awl day innat dress fact'ry. He hadda do awla cookin' f'm t'time he was jus' a lit'l kid. Y'otta try his kuldunnies." "Whassat?" inquires Alice. "Lit'uanian ravioli," explains Sally. "One'a t' few t'ings Leonoreh won' t'row onna floeh." "What time is it again?" demands Alice. "Sev'n o'clock," sighs Sally. "Maybe he's stickin' aroun' cause t'ey need moeh morale inna secon' game," proposes Alice. "Hey, y'know what? It's been a long day, he'll prolly wanna fresh'n up, takea hot bat', dress up nice befoeh comin' oveh heeh. What if we go oveh an' s'prise him! Take t' food oveh t'eah -- he lives downtown at't' St. Gawrge . We c'n go inneah, set it awl up in'is room. It'll be jake, I know a bell capt'n up t'eh, he'c'n get us in!" "Nah," sighs Sally, her eyes beginning to glaze. "I can't leave Leonoreh." "Well, I'll go!" insists Alice. "You go," shrugs Sally. "I'll give ya regawrds t'Hig!" declares Alice, grabbing the pot with a pair of old dish towels and heading for the door. "You do t'at," sighs Sally.)

British Wellington bombers, making the third Allied sortie on the Naples area in thirty-six hours, set many fires in a blockbuster assault on the railway yards at Salerno, athwart the supply route to Southern Italy and Sicily, it was announced today. Two-ton bombs were seen to hit the marshalling yards near the Salerno barracks. In addition to the large fires a number of smaller fires were seen to spring up. Only light anti-aircraft fires were encountered, and no fighters rose to challenge the raiders, all of which returned safely.

Red Army planes, methodically smashing German airpower on the western front, destroyed 20 grounded Nazi planes during a raid on an airdrome near Leningrad today. The attack was part of a systematic assault by Soviet planes up and down the long battle lines while ground action dwindled to artillery dueling and reconnaissance thrusts.

The 73-year-old skipper of a charter fishing boat operating out of Eastern Long Island has been put in drydock for a month after the district Office of Price Administration found him guilty of violating the ban against pleasure boating. Captain Charles Leveridge admitted during a hearing in Manhattan that he had 35 recreational fishermen, most of the war workers, on his boat in Southold Bay. when he was boarded by the Coast Guard. After a Coast Guardsman examined his papers, Leveridge stated, he was told that the Coast Guard had no orders to stop him fishing, and when they received such orders they would let him know. "Seafaring people have got to have orders," stated Capt. Leveridge, "and when I got my orders to stop taking out fishing parties, I stopped. That was on June 18th." The weatherbeaten old skipper, asked by a ration board member if he hadn't seen articles in the newspaper about the ban on use of gasoline for pleasure boating, declared that announcements in the newspaper "don't mean a thing -- a captain's got to have his orders."

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(2).jpg

("Gee, t'anks, Misteh Wyatt! At leas' ya c'n still write!")

EIght of the swankiest clothiers along Seventh Avenue in midtown Manhattan have been robbed recently, but yesterday the bandits were arrested and revealed as two low-paid restaurant workers who had been dazzling their friends by parading down that same street in their ill-gotten finery. Patrolman John Dunn, walking his beat along Seventh Avenue Monday night, noticed a large glass-cutter hole in the front window of the Crawford Clothes store, and upon investigating discovered that a number of sport coats and pairs of slacks had been taken from a display. Yesterday, Patrolman Dunn was passing the Mills Hotel near Seventh Avenue on West 36th Street, and noticed a young man loitering in the doorway adjusting a snappy new sport coat with matching slacks. Dunn became suspicious, and asked the man to show him the label in the coat -- which turned out to be a Crawford Clothes label. Summoning Detective William Duffy, a search was conducted of the hotel, where $200 worth of fine menswear, recently reported stolen, was recovered in a room rented to 30-year-old restaurant counterman Charles Glaser, who, when questioned, admitted the thefts. The man first questioned by Ptl. Dunn, who identified himself as 30-year-old Alex Crawford, a cook with no relation to the Crawford store, insisted he had nothing to do with burglaries, claiming that he had merely noticed the hole in the shop window while strolling down the street, and simply took the opportunity to help himself to a new outfit.

A Dodger fan who waved a knife because he was excited by Arky Vaughan's double during yesterday's game against the Giants at Ebbets Field was cleared of charges of possession of a dangerous weapon after his attorney explained to Judge Franklin Taylor that he always carries a set of knives on his person because he is a chef. Daniel J. Siegler, attorney for defendant George W. Burnside, a railroad chef, explained that his client always carries special knives for cutting bread, meat, and fish, and he happened to have one of those knives in his hand when Vaughan hit his double during yesterday's game. Burnside, the lawyer said, jumped up in excitement, raising the knife as he did so, which caused a spectator -- presumably a Giant fan -- to tip off the police.

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(3).jpg

(Get hep, sister -- modern attendants use a squeegee!)

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(Reaping the whirlwind.)

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("Whassawliss?" inquires Joe, as he enters the apartment at quarter to 1 AM to find Sally seated at the kitchen table in her bathrobe, picking at a bowl of cold cereal as the radio squawks aimlessly in the background. "Alice," sighs Sally. "She's inna bedroom, cryin'eh eyes out." As she speaks, Sally reaches over to snap off the radio. "I hadda drown it out," she explains. "I coul'n take no moeh." "Oh," ohs Joe, hanging his cap on the hook by the door and pulling out a chair. "Higsby?" "Yeh," again sighs Sally. "He neveh show'd up. So she gets t'bright ideer'a goin' oveh t'his place t's'prise 'im. She bawrges inna dooeh, an', well, t'ehs s'prises awla 'roun'. T' rat's inneah wit' some utteh woman. He says 'meet me sisteh,' an'nen 'nis utteh gal sez 'chawrm'd I'm soit'n. Pawrd'n me sut'n accent!' 'Yeh,' hollehs Alice, 'Sout' Brooklyn!' An'nen she goes onna rampage, teahs up t'jernt, t'ey cawla cops, I hadda pack up Leonoreh an' go down' an'ney got'teh in night co'et, an' I says t't' magistrate, I says 'she can' help it, she's suffeh'd a great poissonal lawss, an' she toins onna wawtehwoiks, an'na magistrate gets awl senni'mental an' lets 'eh go. An' Higbe's oveh tawkin' t' 't' repo'teh, slips 'im a fifty t'keep it outta t'papehs, an'ne wawks off wit'tis blonde. An' Alice is been inneah bawlin' since we got home." "Oh," ohs Joe. "Yeh," agrees Sally. Joe heaves a sign of his own. "What hap'n't t'tat roast? I'm kina hungr..." "She t'rew it out t'windeh," is Sally's bland explanation. "Oh," again ohs Joe, glancing at the window. "Not out'teah," continues Sally. "Ack'chly, she t'rew it at Higbe. Inna hotel room. But he ducked, an' it wen'nout t'windeh. Prob'ly en't up inna middla Clawrk Street." "Oh," ohs Joe. "Have some cawrn flakes?" sighs Sally. "Yeh," yehs Joe.)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(6).jpg

(You know, you could always go work at Western Electric.)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(7).jpg

(I'm impressed, Mr. Stamm. I imagine Gargantua doesn't take just any job.)

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(Most impressive thug since the Skull.)

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(SLAP FIGHT! SLAP FIGHT! SLAP FIGHT!)

The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(10).jpg

(You could always move...)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,031
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_.jpg

"Avast, ya swabs!"

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(1).jpg

If this was ten years ago, Warner Bros. would make a hard-hitting 70-minute social-realist melodrama about the lives of milkmen, starring James Cagney, Frank McHugh, and Allen Jenkins, with Glenda Farrell as the love interest.

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(2).jpg

Awwwww....

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WELL IT'S ABOUT TIME SOMEBODY BROUGHT THAT UP

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(4).jpg

"Ohhh kid..." - Madeline Webb.

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From now on, this strip will be panel four, repeated endlessly forever.

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How're you guys fixed for sulfa powder?

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"You can't fool me, Ma! I'm in the Junior OPA!"

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(8).jpg

For an old guy, Pop can troll with the best of 'em.

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(9).jpg

Not yet, Emmy, wait'll it clears.
 
Messages
16,857
Location
New York City
...

The 73-year-old skipper of a charter fishing boat operating out of Eastern Long Island has been put in drydock for a month after the district Office of Price Administration found him guilty of violating the ban against pleasure boating. Captain Charles Leveridge admitted during a hearing in Manhattan that he had 35 recreational fishermen, most of the war workers, on his boat in Southold Bay. when he was boarded by the Coast Guard. After a Coast Guardsman examined his papers, Leveridge stated, he was told that the Coast Guard had no orders to stop him fishing, and when they received such orders they would let him know. "Seafaring people have got to have orders," stated Capt. Leveridge, "and when I got my orders to stop taking out fishing parties, I stopped. That was on June 18th." The weatherbeaten old skipper, asked by a ration board member if he hadn't seen articles in the newspaper about the ban on use of gasoline for pleasure boating, declared that announcements in the newspaper "don't mean a thing -- a captain's got to have his orders."
...

I've met both versions of this man: the one that is deadly serous about what he is saying and can't fathom why you don't understand him and the other version that is using "orders" (or "procedures" or "rules" or "regs" or whatever") simply a tool to argue his point. The former is frustrating but honest; the later is frustrating and dishonest.


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(2).jpg



("Gee, t'anks, Misteh Wyatt! At leas' ya c'n still write!")
...

Orphans going to a ballgame as guests of the club is a big part of the story in one of my favorite lighthearted baseball movies, "Angels in the Outfield" (the original 1951 version).


...

EIght of the swankiest clothiers along Seventh Avenue in midtown Manhattan have been robbed recently, but yesterday the bandits were arrested and revealed as two low-paid restaurant workers who had been dazzling their friends by parading down that same street in their ill-gotten finery. Patrolman John Dunn, walking his beat along Seventh Avenue Monday night, noticed a large glass-cutter hole in the front window of the Crawford Clothes store, and upon investigating discovered that a number of sport coats and pairs of slacks had been taken from a display. Yesterday, Patrolman Dunn was passing the Mills Hotel near Seventh Avenue on West 36th Street, and noticed a young man loitering in the doorway adjusting a snappy new sport coat with matching slacks. Dunn became suspicious, and asked the man to show him the label in the coat -- which turned out to be a Crawford Clothes label. Summoning Detective William Duffy, a search was conducted of the hotel, where $200 worth of fine menswear, recently reported stolen, was recovered in a room rented to 30-year-old restaurant counterman Charles Glaser, who, when questioned, admitted the thefts. The man first questioned by Ptl. Dunn, who identified himself as 30-year-old Alex Crawford, a cook with no relation to the Crawford store, insisted he had nothing to do with burglaries, claiming that he had merely noticed the hole in the shop window while strolling down the street, and simply took the opportunity to help himself to a new outfit.
...

This is a great opportunity to use judicial discretion to send these guys to the Army, if the Army will have them, versus jail. And if the US Army won't take them, let's offer them to the Soviets, I'd bet they'd be happy to use them to plug in a few holes on the Eastern Front.


...

A Dodger fan who waved a knife because he was excited by Arky Vaughan's double during yesterday's game against the Giants at Ebbets Field was cleared of charges of possession of a dangerous weapon after his attorney explained to Judge Franklin Taylor that he always carries a set of knives on his person because he is a chef. Daniel J. Siegler, attorney for defendant George W. Burnside, a railroad chef, explained that his client always carries special knives for cutting bread, meat, and fish, and he happened to have one of those knives in his hand when Vaughan hit his double during yesterday's game. Burnside, the lawyer said, jumped up in excitement, raising the knife as he did so, which caused a spectator -- presumably a Giant fan -- to tip off the police.
...

But Vaughan doesn't carry his bat with him when he goes to eat in this chef's restaurant.


...
("Whassawliss?" inquires Joe, as he enters the apartment at quarter to 1 AM to find Sally seated at the kitchen table in her bathrobe, picking at a bowl of cold cereal as the radio squawks aimlessly in the background. "Alice," sighs Sally. "She's inna bedroom, cryin'eh eyes out." As she speaks, Sally reaches over to snap off the radio. "I hadda drown it out," she explains. "I coul'n take no moeh." "Oh," ohs Joe, hanging his cap on the hook by the door and pulling out a chair. "Higsby?" "Yeh," again sighs Sally. "He neveh show'd up. So she gets t'bright ideer'a goin' oveh t'his place t's'prise 'im. She bawrges inna dooeh, an', well, t'ehs s'prises awla 'roun'. T' rat's inneah wit' some utteh woman. He says 'meet me sisteh,' an'nen 'nis utteh gal sez 'chawrm'd I'm soit'n. Pawrd'n me sut'n accent!' 'Yeh,' hollehs Alice, 'Sout' Brooklyn!' An'nen she goes onna rampage, teahs up t'jernt, t'ey cawla cops, I hadda pack up Leonoreh an' go down' an'ney got'teh in night co'et, an' I says t't' magistrate, I says 'she can' help it, she's suffeh'd a great poissonal lawss, an' she toins onna wawtehwoiks, an'na magistrate gets awl senni'mental an' lets 'eh go. An' Higbe's oveh tawkin' t' 't' repo'teh, slips 'im a fifty t'keep it outta t'papehs, an'ne wawks off wit'tis blonde. An' Alice is been inneah bawlin' since we got home." "Oh," ohs Joe. "Yeh," agrees Sally. Joe heaves a sign of his own. "What hap'n't t'tat roast? I'm kina hungr..." "She t'rew it out t'windeh," is Sally's bland explanation. "Oh," again ohs Joe, glancing at the window. "Not out'teah," continues Sally. "Ack'chly, she t'rew it at Higbe. Inna hotel room. But he ducked, an' it wen'nout t'windeh. Prob'ly en't up inna middla Clawrk Street." "Oh," ohs Joe. "Have some cawrn flakes?" sighs Sally. "Yeh," yehs Joe.)
...

"She threw it out the window."
"Like the radios."
"What?"
"Nut'n."


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(7).jpg


(I'm impressed, Mr. Stamm. I imagine Gargantua doesn't take just any job.)
...

Can't believe I didn't think of this one sooner.


...
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(8).jpg


(Most impressive thug since the Skull.)
...

And his suit isn't even garish.


And in the Daily News...
Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_.jpg


"Avast, ya swabs!"
...

As much as we've all read and know about the horrors of the Holocaust, when you read an article, even just a small insert of an article, like this, in a paper from 1943, about the Jews in Holland all being deported to Poland and knowing today what happened next, it feels fresh and raw and ugly anew.

How did these stars making hundreds of thousands of dollars and executives making millions avoid the $25,000 income cap or did I miss when that cap was removed?


...
Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(3).jpg


WELL IT'S ABOUT TIME SOMEBODY BROUGHT THAT UP
...

And where's Sandy? He was told it was going to be a "safe all-dialogue scene," so there'd be no need for a stunt dog. Boy is he going to be p*ssed off, if he makes it back that is. There is some irony in "the great sub sinker" going down on a sub, but I think that bit of irony will be lost on him.


...

Daily_News_Wed__Jun_23__1943_(4).jpg

"Ohhh kid..." - Madeline Webb.
...

Madeline Webb, yes, but also one out of every three women in a film noir movie that has an escaped-prisoner plot.
 

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