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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News,

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Don't give up so easy, gals -- go stand outside his office and yell during his broadcast!

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The only book ever written with 474 Page Fours.

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Uh, Mr. Hill -- did you clear this with Petrillo?

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I mean, who didn't see this -- his HEAD????

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"Ping???" And yep, Tarz sure does look aesthetic. A regular Oscar Wilde.

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That new haircut does you no favors, Walt -- put the hat back on.

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Frank Willard, Frank King, and Carl Ed all spending the weekend together at the beach...

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But they didn't invite Gus Edson.

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Well here's a segue I didn't see coming.

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"Hairy Kari?" Can someone check on Mr. Caniff and see if he's all right?
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_10_1.jpg

("Yeh," nods Sally, gesturing with a small folded sheet. "Joe says t'eh shippin' i'm t' Camp Kilmeh Sat'day mawrnin'. T'ey graduate 'im from Cooks n' Bakehs school day afteh t'marreh, an'ney give 'im a coupla days t'get ready, an'nen fois' t'ing Sat'day he's on a train f' Edison, New Joisey. Says t'ez stops in Philly an' in Trenton an'nen when'ney get t'Edison te'z a bus t'take 'im out t'camp. Not much chance t'see 'im. B'sides, I gotta woik Satehday, an'ney ain' givin' me time awff, not afteh -- you know." "It's naaaht that far a droive t'Edison New Jarrsey," muses Ma. "Francis and I could go." "Innat ol' truck?" snorts Sally. "Y'd neveh make it t'ru t' tunnel. B'sides, y'ain' got t'gas." "Ah," nods Ma. "Of caaaarse. We don't have th' gas." Sally sighs and returns the letter to her handbag. "Maybe we c'n go out t'eh on Sunday," she shrugs. "Maybe take a bus." She roots around in her bag and pulls out a small cylindrical object. "Whot's that?" queries Ma. "Rolla film," explains Sally. "I was gonna drawp it awff nex' dooeh b'foeh we go home, get it d'veloped. See, we useta have this ol' Kodak an' we t'ought we lawst it at t' Woil's Faieh. But I was lookin' f'sumpin' inna bedroom clawset las' night, an' it was down onna floeh undeh some boxes. Musta fell awf t'shelf a'sumpn'. Still hadda las' rolla film in it fr'm when we was out t'eh. I can't remembeh what kin'a pitchehs is awn it, so I t'ought I'd find out." "Th' Waaarld's Fair," recalls Ma. "Sooch a show that was." "Th' Woild a' T'marra," sighs Sally. "F' Peace an' Freedom'. Guess 'at woiked out, huh?" "Indeed," sighs Ma, glancing at the framed photo of her son hanging behind the counter....)

In Italy, American troops smashed four miles beyond Volterra within a few hours of capturing the key outpost before Livorno, and threatened today to turn the coastal defenses 10 miles below the great Tyrrhenian port which had stalled a frontal push against it. Lt. General Mark Clark's forces pushing northward from Volterra are battling the crack German 90th Panzer Grenadier Division, shifted into the sector when the Nazis reinforced the Livorno defense belt.

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(Ew.)

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(By all means, Rep. Luce. Come visit.)

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(Something for everyone!)

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("18,192 Must Wait Until August To Learn Of Flock's 14th Loss." That's just mean.)

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("What's this? Mike Todd wants you for his new show? Doesn't that man ever sleep?")

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("Yep, I had a big breakfast today. Uh -- sorry about your carpet.")

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(In his dreary furnished room on Fenimore Street, Hops Gaffney puts down the paper and sighs...)

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(Ehh, you get used to it.)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE WORST DAD EVER wonders where he left his siphon hose.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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Busy weekend.

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"Jimmy has always had an occupation."

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You little boys have no idea what you're in for.

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Poor kid.

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Maybe he'll run into Joe.

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Proverbs 25:16, Rev.

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You're really into this, aren't you, bub?

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"You should hear him yell about farm relief."

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Yes, it's that kind of neighborhood.

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Remember when Little Face was rolled up in those smelly skins in a cold storage locker and froze his ears off, and then Tracy shoved a jar full of wild bees in there with him? Remember when Big Mama scalded Jerome Strohs to death in the shower? Remember how Laffy starved to death with lockjaw? Remember how sick we all thought all that was? Chester Gould remembers.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_11_1.jpg

("Heh," snorts Alice. "Look heeh," she continues, pointing out a certain item on the Eagle's front page. "She chased 'im awff wit' a shillelagh! Souns like sump'n you'd do!" "Neh," nehs Sally. "I gotta gun inna bureau drawer. Uncle Frank give it t' Joe t'practice wit' befoeh 'e wen' inna Awrmy. I tol' ya how he taught me an' Mickey how t'shoot when we was kids, out t' Dead Hawrse Bay. He said when he was a kid in Irelan' he loint t'shoot at wolves t'at come an' steal 'is pa's sheep." "Wit' a twenny-five autehmatic," murmurs Alice. "What?" "Nut'n." "Anyways," resumes Sally, "t'at gun is still inna bureau drawer." "Wasn't you noivous about t'at?" queries Alice. "I mean, Joe himself'd tell ya he ain' no good wit' a gun." "Ehh," shrugs Sally. "I didn' worry none. Uncle Frank neveh give 'im no bullets.")

Japanese garrisons in the southern Mariannas, bypassed by the successful invasion of Saipan, faced intensified air and sea assaults today, with a fast U. S. Pacific Fleet Task Force hammering the isolated enemy positions in almost daily attcks. A communique from the headquarters of Admiral Chester W. Nimitz disclosed that U. S. forces had carried their campaign against Guam and Rota, south of Saipan, into its fifth consecutive day on Sunday.

Thomas G. Corcoran and other past and present members of the President's Brain Trust are reported today to be promoting Associate Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas for the Democratic Vice Presidential nomination, should current Vice President Henry Wallace be discarded at the upcoming Democratic National Convention. Meanwhile, the Vice President is back in Washington, as coy about his political status as Gov. Thomas E. Dewey was prior to his nomination by the Republican Party to head its presidential ticket. Wallace and the President met for two hours late yesterday, and following that conference the Vice President solemnly told reporters that the discussion had focused on Wallace's recent tour of Russia and China. Wallace insisted that the topic of the 1944 election never came up.

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("Slommasheen!" chirps Leonora. "Shhh," admonishes Ma. "Let's play a game, darrlin'. If ye c'n go a whoooole hour with'oot sayin' noothin' aboot 'slommasheen,' Gramma'll give ye an egg cream, jus' like ye papa useta drink." Leonora ponders the offer. "Large one?" she wheedles. "Laaaarge woon," sighs Ma.")

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("For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.")

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(Superman gets his REAL powers from Kellogg's of Battle Creek.)

Police are attempting to identify a badly-decomposed and mutilated human torso fished out of the Gowanus Canal at the foot of 23rd Street. The remains could not be visually identified as male or female, but the remnants of a rupture belt worn around the waiste lead police to believe the torso is likely that of a man. In addition to the missing head, legs, and arms, it was observed by morgue attendants that the ribs had been crushed.

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(Night All Star games. And they said it would never catch on.)

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("You meet such interesting people in your imagination." Well, you could always become a psychiatrist.)

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("No, no, I -- ah -- just stepped in something on the way home...")

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(And let's just pause to admire Tubby's keen outfit from the Frankie Germano Collection at Davega.)

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(Non-binary invisibility. Scarlett is ahead of her time.)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE WISED-UP KITTY is living the dream.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"No living man could force me to take this." -- EJF = "You aren't taking this." -- FDR.

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It would be interesting to match the roster of Hartford city officials against the circus pass list.

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At this point, I fear Mr. Gould is beyond help.

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Ageists.

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"Uh, yeah, when are we reading the will again?"

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You won't need that dress uniform where you're going, kid.

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"Get some cash for your trash!"

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The most wholesome back room in the history of back rooms.

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NIck Gatt would use this guy for a bath mat.

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Nice work if you can get it.
 
Messages
17,009
Location
New York City
"'Wit' a twenny-five autehmatic," murmurs Alice'." She's awesome.

****************************************************************************

Kudos to Costello for going through on the reward and $3500 is a real reward - it's worth about $62,000 today.

I still find it amazing that he left that money in the cab.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_12_1.jpg

("Ye got yarr snapshots back, eh?" observes Ma, as, beneath the torpid breeze churned by the slowly-rotating ceiling fan, Sally fingers a small grey envelope. "Yeh," Sally replies, unraveling the bit of string fastening the flap. "Woil's Faieh time capsule right heeh." She withdraws the small sheaf of prints and considers the first image with a rueful smile. "Dawwn Of A New Day," she sighs, displaying an image of the Trylon and Perisphere beneath a toneless gray sky. "I t'ink t'is musta benna fois' day we went. Five yeehs ago, 'magin'nat. 'Magin'nem goin't'awla troubla buildin' sump'n like t'at, knowin' awlalong t'ey was jus' gonna knock it down. An' me'n Joe, livin' on twenny-one dollehs a week." "Ahhh, daaaghter," notes Ma. "Ye was doon bettar'n soom people." "I s'pose," shrugs Sally. "Betteh'rn'a WPA." She considers the next photo. "I dunno what t'is is," she notes. "Some guy tawkin'. Oh -- wait, I remembeh. It was t' Mayeh a' Asb'ry Pawrk. It was 'Asb'ry Pawrk Day' t'at day. Asb'ry Pawk. Y'know, me'n Joe was gonna go t'eh f'ra honeymoon, but we neveh got around t'wit. I guess t'is was t' closes' we eveh got." "Ah," nods Ma, with a touch of sympathy. "Ye faather an' me nevarr had no hooneymoon," she continues. "People t'loikes of oos, in them days, did noo sooch thing as a hooneymoon." "Yeh," acknowledges Sally, moving on to the next photo. "Huh," she huhs. "T'ez 'Joe t' Woikeh.' R'membeh t'at, t'big statue on'toppa t'Russian p'vilian? I give Joe a hawrd time about t'at, statue even kinda looked like 'im. Wondeh wheh t'at statue is now? Prob'ly melted down f'guns an' tanks a'sump'n." "Joseph aint quoite so taaahl," observes Ma. "Thaaat's a jooke," she adds in an effort to clarify her position. "Now whassis' heeh?" frowns Sally. "Oh, myyyyyy," exhales Ma, peeking at the photo. "Oh, I know," explains Sally "T'at's t' Salvador Dali 'zibit. T'at's ya mawrd'n awrt, see heeh? T'at's ya s'realism. T'is izzat kin'a stuff, r'membeh inna papeh las' winneh, t'ey was havin' awlat rigam'role at Brooklyn Collitch 'bout t'em magazines. It wazzis kin'a stuff. See heeh -- y'got t'is gal wit' no clo'es on stan'nin onna seashell, an'nis ot'eh gal wit' no clo'es on comin' outa t'is hole heeh, an'ninfronna t' doeh y' t'got t'ese ladies legs comin' out, an' y' kin'a -- well -- y'wawk b'tween'm t'go in." "An' ye went in, did ye?" gapes Ma. "Sally Aileen Sweeney!" "It was AWRT, Ma," Sally protests. "Oi s'pose then," challenges Ma, "inside they had aaaahl sortsa queer paintin's an' statues." "Well, not 'zackly," admits Sally. "T'eh wazzis big tanka wawteh inneh, an' awlese gals was jumpin' in an' kinda -- squoimin' aroun' an' stuff. I t'ought Joe took a coupl'a pitchehs, but I guess -- uh -- t'ey didn' d'velop t'em pitchehs a' sump'n." "Ah," ahs Ma, her scowl palpable in the exhalation. "An' heeh WE awr," sighs Sally, considering the last print. "Stan'nin in fronna t'Parachute Jump. We haddis guard a'whateveh 'e was t'take it fawr us. T'at hat I got awn'eeh, I bought t'at at Namm's day befoeh we went out t'eh, right? An' I t'ought I looked pretty good, right? Got up t'eh toppa t'at Parachute Jump, an' jus' befoeh t'ey dropped us down, t'wind come up an' blew t'at hat right offa me head. Went flyin' off an' I neveh seen it again. Prob'ly still flyin' aroun' oveh Flushin' someplace." "That's a noice pitcharr of th' two a' ye," observes Ma. "Y'aaaaght t'have it bloown oop an'make a noice print oovit. Give one t'Joseph t'take ovarseas with'im. Oi wouldn't moind a caaahpy oovit meself." "Yeh," nods Sally, her eyes glistening. "Coupla dumb kids, huh? Lookit t'two'a yez smilin' like a coupla dopes. Y'got no ideeeh what's comin'...")

Virtually isolated Japanese garrisons in the Marianas were brought under the weight of American land, sea, and air power today, with attacks focusing on the former American naval base of Guam, on the southern end of the islands. A communique from the headquarters of Admiral Chester W. Nimitz stated that light naval forces shelled Guam on Sunday to raise the number of attacks on that base to eight. Washington sources suggested today that American forces may be poised to recapture the base, which was the first U. S. possession lost to the Japanese in the Pacific War.

War Production chief Donald L. Nelson emerged the apparent winner today in his dispute with the Armed Forces over his plans for a prompt resumption of at least limited civilian industrial production. Under the final settlement between the military and the War Production Board, present restrictions on civilian use of aluminum and magnesium may be partially lifted as early as July 15th, and manufacturers may be allowed to produce certain models of civilian articles for "experimental purposes" as early as July 22nd. On August 15th, manufacturers who have available facilities and manpower not immediately required for war prodution, may be permitted to resume production of limited quantities of civilian goods the manufacture of which is currenlty prohibited.

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("Oi don't know," ponders Uncle Frank as Jimmy shows him an interesting printers' proof. "Oi don't think he quiote got th' expression on th' camel's face quoite roit. Y'know how th' camel looks loike 'ee's aboot t'spit? Oi don't quoite see that here. Have 'im waaark oovar that paaarta th' plate, an' pool anoothar proof. Here," he adds, tossing his hulking son a fresh pack from a carton secreted in a drawer marked FLUSH ELBOWS. "Haaav'im use this farr a reference, it's not wrinkled oop. An' see if Danny got in that loose t'bacca an' thim tax stamps!" "Sueh t'ing, Pop," assures Jimmy as he heads into the back of the plumbing shop to carry out his orders. Uncle Frank leans back in his swivel chair, swings his brogans onto the ledge of his rolltop desk, peels the cellophane from a fresh panatela, and whistles a sprightly tune...)

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(Buster Crabbe and Aline Judge! Hollywood pours on the summer talent!)

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(After all, all the experienced typists are in the WACs.)

Reader Edward J. Quigley pleads with Eagle readers not to abandon the Dodgers in their hour of need. "So the Dodgers lost thirteen straight games!" he declares. "SO WHAT! They are OUR TEAM and they represent Brooklyn, so let's stand by them whether they win or lose!"

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(So this counts as a Dodger win, then, right? DOESN'T IT???)

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(You can never leave show business.)

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("I don't care HOW -- do whatever you did with that elephant!")

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(For a gentleman of avoirdupois, Tub sure is light on his feet.)

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(And if she's careful, she can save 50 percent on wardrobe.)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG always travels first class.)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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Summer of '44, summed up in a page.

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Sometimes Page Four just can't decide what it wants to be.

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Well, that's what you get for not having a safety button.

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Keep your eyes on the road, kids.

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Her eyes just light right up at the though of how much she loved the old buzzard.

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War Is Heck.

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And he turned around and slowly sloshed away.

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Speaking of Dali, he wants his moustache back.

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Saltpeter in the rations? MYTH.

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Jonah probably smelled a little better, too.
 
Messages
17,009
Location
New York City
("Oi don't know," ponders Uncle Frank as Jimmy shows him an interesting printers' proof. "Oi don't think he quiote got th' expression on th' camel's face quoite roit. Y'know how th' camel looks loike 'ee's aboot t'spit? Oi don't quoite see that here. Have 'im waaark oovar that paaarta th' plate, an' pool anoothar proof. Here," he adds, tossing his hulking son a fresh pack from a carton secreted in a drawer marked FLUSH ELBOWS. "Haaav'im use this farr a reference, it's not wrinkled oop. An' see if Danny got in that loose t'bacca an' thim tax stamps!" "Sueh t'ing, Pop," assures Jimmy as he heads into the back of the plumbing shop to carry out his orders. Uncle Frank leans back in his swivel chair, swings his brogans onto the ledge of his rolltop desk, peels the cellophane from a fresh panatela, and whistles a sprightly tune...)
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LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
The_Brooklyn_Daily_Eagle_1944_07_13_1.jpg

("Coney Islan'!" sneers Sally. "'Bout time t'ey clean't'at mess up down'eh. I neveh see sucha buncha crooks in my life." "Y'should get aroun' moeh," eyerolls Alice. "What?" Nut'n." "I mean," continues Sally, her froth rising, "t'eh ain'a place down'eh t'at ain' out t'clip ya. Luna Pawrk, awright? I remembeh Uncle Frank took me'n Mickey down'eh once when we was kids, an'ney had t'is t'ing, right, y'sposta hit it wit'a hammeh an'na t'ing goes up'n rings t'bell. Well, Uncle Frank pays t'felleh runnin' it a dime, an' sez t'Mickey, awright, you hit it, an'nee does, an'na t'ing goes 'bout halfway up an'nen fawls back down. An'nen he gives t'man ano'teh dime, an' whispehs sump'n inna guy's eeh, an' gives ME t'hammeh, an' I swing it, an'na t'ing goes right upta top an' dings t'bell, an'na guy gives me a teddy beah." "Awww," acknowledges Alice, with a further eyeroll. "An' so we go awn," continues Sally, "an' I'm holdin'is teddy beah, an' it feels awl lumpy inside, like t'ez sump'n inneh, right? So when we'eh sittn' down havin' hawt dawgs an' lemonades, I sez t'Mickey, 'gimme ya pocket knife.' An' I open up t'backa t'at teddy beah, an' y'know what some dope done? T'ezza rolla MONEY inneh! Ten dolleh bills! Roll big'enuff t'chokea hawrse! Uncle Frank seezis, his eyes go like t'is heeh, an'nee grabs t'money away fr'm me an' says 'I'll take caerha t'is, neveh you mind about it, et cetereh.' He was awrful soeh somebody'd gimme a punk teddy beah like t'at, an' I guess he musta gone back an' give t'guy a piece'v'is min', 'cause he come back an' gimme ano'teh beah bran' new. I still got t'at beah someplace, inna drawer a' sump'n. I should get it out an' give it t'Leonoreh." "Betteh give it a good squeeze foist," chuckles Alice. "Oh, do'worry 'bout t'at," nods Sally. "Uncle Frank squeezed it oveh pretty good be'foeh he give it to me.")

A dispatch from Madrid said today that Germany's supreme war council, hurriedly convened by Hitler, has decided to withdraw certain troops from certain occupied countries -- believed to be Norway and the Balkans -- to bolster his battered forces against mounting Allied threats from the east, west, and south. Marshal Guenther von Kluge, new German supreme commander in the west, is said to have expressed apprehension at the meeting over the possibility that future Allied landings in France would compel him to request additional reinforcements from Germany itself.

German robot bombs, their attacks evidently confined to daylight hours, again struck London and Southern England today after a lull that lasted thru the night. Some of the flying bombs appeared to come from a direction well east of Pas de Calais, and it was considered possible that the Germans may have developed new launching points in the Netherlands as well as in Belgium. The slacking off of robot attacks overnight led to speculation that the Germans are confining the raids to daytime in order to hit the thousands of working people in the streets who are unable to reach the safety of a shelter. It is reported that the Royal Free Hospital was hit by a flying bomb that caused great structural damage and killed five persons.

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(KIDS TODAY)

In Monterey, Missouri, "the best durn coon dog" in the southeastern part of the state has been rescued after ten days' imprisonment in a collapsed limestone cave near his master's Ozark Mountain home. "Old Drive," owned by Jake Light of Monterey, was released from the cave after Light and his neighbors , working by torchlight and lanters, blasted a hole thru a 30-foot-thick stone wall and dragged the starving dog to safety. Old Drive gazed with grateful eyes at Light and his wife Effie, as they tended to the animal's swollen feet, and hand-fed the dog the only food he could chew with his two remaining teeth. LIght commented that he didn't know he had so many friends until he saw them gathering from all over the hills around Sugar Camp Hollow to help rescue his dog. Light's eleven other hounds refused to eat or come into the house when they realized the dean of their pack was missing, and they led the mountaineer to the cave where Old Drive was trapped after falling 20 feet from a brush-covered bluff. Light carried the dog home wrapped in a tattered shirt, and declared that "the day I get him well, I'll go out and get drunk to celebrate."

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("Hmph!" hmphs Mrs. Murphy, "A One Worlder!")

The Eagle Editorialist predicts that Henry Wallace's days as Vice President are numbered, anticipating that he has become enough of a political liability that he will be eased off the Democratic ticket at the upcoming party convention. "Unfortunately for his fortunes at this critica stage of his fascinating political career," comments the EE, "Mr. Wallace is a complex personality not easily understood and tending to inspire suspicion among those who insist upon having their political leaders fashioned in a familiar mold."

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(Coming Events Cast Their Arc-Light Shadows Before...)

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(More to the point, are you now or have you ever been a Falangist?)

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(Even when you know it's coming, it's so satisfying when it finally does.)

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(You haven't ever really had any training at this, have you?)

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(Mr. Stamm has been having trouble lately with his landlady.)

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("No matter what, this shipment of dynamite, nitroglycerin, and TNT must get thru. Also, that dog.")
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,328
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"A boss mobster" and his "two timing sister." Ten years ago, Warner Brothers would have been all over this.

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The advertising department is now run by Mr. Schaefer's mother.

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Dieting, Walt? Or is it just the summer heat taking its toll?

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G'wan, you can't get the DT's from milkshakes.

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"We'll go see Chester in that mysterious undersea kingdom! Or Queendom. Whatever."

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You keep the ladder on the FLOOR? Slob. I loaned mine out eight years ago, and the borrower keeps it on THEIR floor.

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"GOOD DAY, FELLOW AMERICANS THAT WE ARE ALL HERE."

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It's just possible you're overdoing this.

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Nobody ever sleeps in this house.

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"Crunch, crack." YOU'RE SICK, GOULD. SICK SICK SICK!
 

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