Category Archives: Catalog

‘If you weren’t there, you missed it:’ Jazz at Tomlinson Hall

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While the 1920s are colloquially known as the “jazz age” due to its emergence in that decade as a shockingly new and unique form of music, jazz did not truly enter the popular culture mainstream until the 1930s. The days of small bands comprising around five musicians were gone and replaced with massive orchestras of over a dozen performers, often fronted by a charismatic bandleader. Jazz performers moved out of the small clubs and speakeasies they had occupied throughout the 1920s and into massive music halls to both accommodate a growing fanbase and to better showcase the loud music created by the multiple saxophones, trumpets and trombones of the large orchestras. The Big Band Era was in full swing.

If you were in Indianapolis and wanted to see the biggest names in jazz in the 1930s, you were probably going to make a pilgrimage to Tomlinson Hall. Located at the corner of Market and Delaware streets, right next to the City Market, Tomlinson Hall opened its doors in 1886. A massive building, it served many purposes for the people of Indianapolis and hosted everything from conventions and political rallies to boxing matches and music performances.

Postcards showing Tomlinson Hall. The image on the left shows its proximity to the City Market building. From the Postcard Collection (P071) Rare Books and Manuscripts Collection.

Tomlinson Hall was open to all and the African American community of Indianapolis frequently held events in the venue as it had a capacity of 4,000 which was significantly larger than the recently constructed Walker Theater on Indiana Avenue. While all were welcome at Tomlinson Hall, segregation still existed within its confines. Below are two ads for the same 1935 Duke Ellington performance. The ad on the left is from the Indianapolis Recorder, the city’s preeminent Black newspaper. The smaller ad on the right is from the Indianapolis News and includes the text “Dance for colored patrons only. Balcony reserved for white spectators.”

Indianapolis Recorder, July 20, 1935. Indianapolis News, July 26, 1935.

Other major acts to make appearances at Tomlinson Hall in this time period include Claude Hopkins (1936), Louis Armstrong (1937), Count Basie (1939), Fats Waller (1938) and Blanche Calloway (1936). Calloway was the older sister of popular singer and bandleader Cab Calloway. She was the first woman to lead an all-male orchestra.

Collection of ads from the Indianapolis Recorder, 1936-39.

Band leader and drum virtuoso Chick Webb and singer Ella Fitzgerald performed at the Hall in August of 1938. The Indianapolis Recorder published photos from the show and noted that Fitzgerald “literally made the mike dance” during her performance.

Indianapolis Recorder, Aug. 13, 1938.

Tomlinson Hall continued to serve as one of Indianapolis’s main entertainment venues until it was destroyed by a fire in 1958. An arch from the original structure was found during City Market renovations in the 1970s and has been erected in a plaza near where the Great Hall once stood.

The Indianapolis Recorder contains a wealth of information on the history of jazz in the city. A digitized archive of the newspaper from 1899-2005 is available through Hoosier State Chronicles here.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Indiana’s forgotten bowl game: The Refrigerator Bowl

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The United States in the late 1940s was hungry for college football. With many schools completely dropping their programs for the duration of World War II, the American public was ready to resume its collegiate sports traditions. The postwar era saw a rush of newly created bowl games throughout the country as cities sought to cash-in on the trend and market themselves as popular sports destinations. Most of these bowl series are now defunct but included the Raison Bowl in Fresno, California; the Salad Bowl in Phoenix, Arizona; and the Cigar Bowl in Tampa, Florida. Never to be left out of a trend, Indiana also had a bowl entry dubbed the Refrigerator Bowl, held annually in Evansville from 1948 to 1956.

Souvenir program for the first game.

By 1948, the city of Evansville was home to multiple companies that manufactured refrigerators or refrigerator components. Servel, Inc., the Seeger Refrigerator Corporation and International Harvester were producing over a million units each year, a figure which gave Evansville boasting rights to the title “refrigerator capital of the world.”

Evansville’s “Big Three” refrigerator manufacturers.

Members of the Evansville Junior Chamber of Commerce – commonly known as the Jaycees – developed the idea of hosting a college bowl game, partly to highlight the city’s importance in the refrigerator industry and also to raise money for the local YMCA children’s facility known as Camp Carson.

While most college bowl games have historically been held on the first day of January, the Refrigerator Bowl was always held in early December, a concession to Indiana’s fickle winter weather. The game was scheduled to be played in the Reitz Bowl, a “natural amphitheater” stadium attached to Reitz High School.

Built in 1921, the Reitz Bowl continues to be used for local high school football games.

The teams selected to participate in the inaugural game were Missouri Valley and Evansville College. The Missouri Valley Vikings were a Midwestern powerhouse and had not lost a game since 1941. Going into the bowl game, the team had only allowed a mere three touchdowns the entire 1948 season. The Evansville Purple Aces had lost three games and were considered obvious underdogs.

Much to the surprise of all involved, the Evansville Purple Aces managed to end Missouri Valley’s long winning streak by scoring two touchdowns and defeating them 13 to 7. Approximately 7,500 spectators attended the event and Evansville’s head coach was carried off the field on the shoulders of his ecstatic players.

Newspaper coverage from the Evansville Courier Press, Dec. 5, 1948. From Newspapers.com.

The first bowl game was enough of a success that it continued for the next eight years. However, by the mid 1950s, attendance was very low and one of the major refrigerator companies, Servel, went out of business. Despite no longer having its own bowl game, Evansville continued to be a hub of refrigerator manufacturing for the next couple of decades.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Lucy Way Sistare Say

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On Thursday, Dec. 8, 1825, a keelboat titled The Philanthropist pushed away from a dock in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and began its long voyage west along the Ohio River. The ships passengers were among some of Pennsylvania’s most prominent intellectuals. Comprised of scientists, educators, social reformers and artists, the ship was dubbed the Boatload of Knowledge by Robert Owen, whose utopian ideals formed the basis of the endeavor. The passengers were en route to settle in New Harmony, Indiana and were the initial participants in Owen’s experiment in cooperative and socialistic communal living.

Among the many talented individuals on the Boatload of Knowledge was a young woman named Lucy Way Sistare, who had been educated in Philadelphia under the tutelage of a progressive educator named Madame Marie Fretageot. While a student, Sistare studied scientific illustration and even received instruction from famous American naturalist, John James Audubon.

Lucy Say towards the end of her life. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

Among the other passengers was the entomologist Thomas Say. By 1825, Say had been on numerous scientific expeditions into the American frontier and was one of the first scientists to officially document many specimens of North America. He helped found the Academy of Natural Science of Philadelphia and was made captain of the Boatload of Knowledge.

Portrait of Thomas Say by Rembrandt Peale from Wikimedia Commons.

The boat reached Mount Vernon, Indiana on Jan. 23, 1826 and the travelers continued by land to the settlement in New Harmony.

Sistare had likely met Say in Philadelphia prior to the voyage to Indiana, but the long journey combined with the arduous task of living in a frontier community must have caused a bond to develop between the two as they were married less than a year later on Jan. 4, 1827. Lucy spent her time in New Harmony teaching illustration techniques while Thomas continued to explore the natural world.

The couple’s distinct talents came together to produce the book “American Conchology, or Descriptions of the Shells of North America.” Thomas’s descriptive text was accompanied by Lucy’s meticulous illustrations, many of which were hand-colored either by her or two of her New Harmony students. Printed by the New Harmony School Press in 1830, it is one of the earliest books published in the state of Indiana.

Title page for “American Conchology.”

Two examples of Lucy Say’s work from “American Conchology.”

Thomas would die in 1834. Lucy left New Harmony soon afterwards. She would become the first female member of the Academy of Natural Science of Philadelphia, the scientific society her husband helped to create. She continued to be involved in scientific endeavors until her death in 1886.

The book Thomas and Lucy created in the frontier community of New Harmony continues to be highly sought after by book collectors. Among early American scientific books, it stands out primarily due to Lucy’s meticulous and delicately rendered illustrations.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Sources
Pitzer, Donald E. (1989). “The original Boatload of Knowledge down the Ohio River: William Maclure’s and Robert Owen’s transfer of science and education to the Midwest,” 1825-1826. Ohio Journal of Science, 89(5), 128-142.

Say, Thomas. (1830). “American Conchology, or Descriptions of the Shells of North America.” New Harmony School Press.

“Say’s creative process.” American Philosophical Society. Retrieved Aug. 13, 2024 from https://www.amphilsoc.org/museum/exhibitions/lucy-says-shells/says-creative-process

The longest, shortest, darkest race: The 1973 Indianapolis 500

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Since the inaugural race in 1911, the Indianapolis 500 has provided racing fans with fast thrills in the month of May. Some years have provided more drama than others and 1973 was certainly such a year.

Poster advertising the 1973 time trials. Medium Broadsides Collection, Rare Books and Manuscripts Division.

1973 was the 57th running of the race and going into it, fans were excited to see cars possibly reach 200 mph speeds for the first time ever. Qualifications began on Saturday, but before they could even start, driver Art Pollard crashed on a practice run and would eventually die from his injuries. The time trials continued with Johnny Rutherford posting the fastest time at 199.071 mph, tantalizingly close to the coveted 200 mph, but still short.

The race was scheduled for Monday, May 28. After an initial four-hour rain delay, the race officially started but things went horribly wrong on the very first lap. Caused in part by a car moving extremely slow due to a mechanical failure, a 12-car crash put an immediate halt to the race. A massive fireball from the wreckage of driver Salt Walther’s car reached spectators in the stands and several were rushed to local hospitals with serious burns. While he survived the wreck, Walther would have to undergo a very lengthy recovery and, in the process, became addicted to pain medication, a condition he struggled with for the rest of his life until dying from an overdose in 2012. Perhaps fortuitously, another torrential rainstorm began shortly after the wreck and the race needed to be postponed to the next day.

Front page of The Indianapolis Star, May 29, 1973.

Racing conditions did not improve the following day. Despite over 200,000 fans showing up for the second attempt at the race, another postponement was announced. This was the first time in the race’s history that a race had to be postponed two days in a row. Spirits were low among drivers, crews and fans with some hoping the race would be completely cancelled.

Sheltering from the rain on Pit Row. Picture from the official yearbook for the 1973 Indianapolis 500 (ISLI 796.7 I388i 1973).

The third and final attempt at running the race occurred on Wednesday, May 30. The weather continued to threaten rain but the sun came out briefly and dried the track enough to start the race. Racing resumed and was a typical Indianapolis 500 for over 50 laps until a wreck on the 57th lap trapped driver “Swede” Savage in yet another huge fireball. Pit crew members from various teams ran on foot towards the accident and one of them, Armando Teran, was accidentally killed by an emergency vehicle which was also speeding towards the wreck. While initially surviving the inferno, Savage would ultimately succumb to his injuries several weeks later.

Spectators near the wreck were understandably traumatized. They had to watch both Savage moving around in the remains of his car, desperately trying to get out while completely engulfed in flames, followed by witnessing the violent death of Armando Teran. Several fans, including women from the 500 Festival court, fainted.

From The Indianapolis Star, May 31, 1973, page 19.

Once the accident had been cleared away, the race trudged on but when rain began to fall yet again, a final red flag was flown at lap 133, 67 laps short of the normal 200. The leader, Gordon Johncock, was named the winner and the 57th running of the Indy 500 mercifully came to end. Only 11 of the original lineup of 33 cars managed to finish the race.

The Indianapolis Star, May 31, 1973.

The troubles of the 1973 race and the collective anger of drivers and teams resulted in the creation of several safety measures. Due to the numerous large fires caused by crashes, cars were no longer allowed to carry so much fuel and it was recommended that fuel tanks be on the left side of the car, to avoid damage and explosions when hitting walls. Another change required pit crew members to remain at their posts in order to keep out of the way of safety crews.

Cover of the 1973 yearbook featuring winner Gordon Johncock.

Ultimately, it took the 1973 Indy 500 three whole days to complete a mere 332 miles making it both the longest and shortest race at the time. Even though Rutherford came very close to reaching 200mph during qualifications, race fans would have to wait four more years to witness a driver achieve that particular feat, which Tom Sneva did in 1977.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

How to be hep to the jive with Cab Calloway

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Cabell “Cab” Calloway III was indisputably one of the most popular and iconic jazz performers of the 1930s. He possessed a distinct entertaining style which combined catchy swing music with cheeky vaudevillian skits. He sang, he danced, he sported exaggerated “zoot suits” and he helped popularize jive talk, a particular form of African American Vernacular English that is believed to have started in the jazz clubs of Harlem – where Calloway got his start – and was prevalent throughout the country in the 1930s and 1940s.

From The Indianapolis Recorder, Aug. 12, 1933.

Calloway was the unofficial Ambassador of Jive. In 1938, he self-published a small booklet entitled “Cab Calloway’s Cat-ologue: a “Hepster’s” Dictionary.” Several revisions followed, all published by Calloway himself. The Indiana State Library has the 1944 edition, which was titled “The New Cab Calloway’s Hepsters Dictionary.” In the dictionary’s foreword, Calloway proudly proclaims it to be “the official jive language reference book of the New York Public Library.” It is considered by some to be the first dictionary written and published by an African American.

Cover of the Indiana State Library’s Hepsters Dictionary ([p.f.] ISLM 427 no. 1). Unfortunately, some “square” (un-hep) librarian in the past was a little overly enthusiastic with the labelling and barcoding of this item!

Entries from the dictionary.

By the 1940s, jive was prevalent in American popular culture and was particularly popular among white teenagers and young adults. Expressions such as “blow the top” (to be overcome with emotion), “gimme some skin” (shake hands) and “salty” (angry, ill-tempered) became commonplace and are still used to this day.

An article describing a “jive” dance program held at Culver High School. From The Culver Citizen, Feb. 3, 1943.

Jive expressions became so mainstream that a youngster in 1940s Indiana could go to the L.S. Ayres department store and be “togged to the bricks” (dressed to kill) in a pair of blue jeans featuring jive talk.

L.S. Ayres advertisement from The Indianapolis Star, May 16, 1947.

The jive fad was not isolated only to large cities. Even folks in smaller places did not want to come across as “corny” (old fashioned, stale) or “icky” (one who is not hip, a stupid person, can’t collar the jive).

Music column from The Call Leader (Elwood, Ind.), Sept. 13, 1944.

Cab Calloway continued to keep “joints jumping” (club is leaping with fun) for delighted “jitter bugs” (swing fans) for decades after his heyday in the 1930s. He experienced a resurgence of interest in his career after making a cameo appearance in the 1980 film “Blues Brothers,” where he performed his most famous song, “Minnie the Moocher.” Calloway died in 1994 at age 86. He was truly one of the “hepest cats” in American history.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Butler vs. Purdue: A Thanksgiving story

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Football is as integral a part of American Thanksgiving as turkey and pumpkin pie. Indeed, both Thanksgiving as a national holiday and the game of football originated around the same time. President Ulysses S. Grant established the official holiday in 1870, a mere year after Rutgers University defeated Princeton 6-4 on Nov. 6, 1869 in what is widely considered the first match of American football ever played. The game quickly grew in popularity, particularly among American universities, and as popular trends usually do, it eventually found its way to Indiana.

From the Indiana Pamphlet Collection. ISLO 813 no. 26.

A fictionalized account of an early Indiana football game can be found in the short story “Butler vs. Purdue: A Thanksgiving story,” written and published by George S. Cottman, a prolific historian and author who ran a printing press out of his home in Irvington. The story opens in Indianapolis on Thanksgiving morning 1890 with a young woman named Esther pleading with her father to take her to a local football match between Butler University (whose campus was located in the Irvington neighborhood at the time) and Purdue University. Her father, a stern military man dubbed Colonel Cannon, initially refuses and chides his daughter’s interest in the sport. Like many other older adults at the time, he holds the notion that football is an unusually violent sport and unworthy of being associated with institutions of higher learning. With little self-awareness he declares “If I’d a boy in college… who spent his time tussling about in the mud when I was paying for the cultivation of his brains I’d cudgel him till he took to his bed. Is that what they go to college for – to break bones and mash each other flat?”

After further cajoling and some overly dramatic tears from Esther, he relents and they make their way to the YMCA athletic park, located at the time in the Arsenal Heights neighborhood, just east of downtown. The game has already started and Butler is losing to Purdue 10-0. Esther, who incidentally is also being courted by a football player from Butler, is in despair at how dominant the Purdue team seems. “What great big ugly things they are! It’s too much to expect our boys to stand against a lot of elephants!”

She is equally disgruntled with the Purdue fans who have made the long trip to Indianapolis to cheer on their team. “Hear those horrid people. I hate to see country jakes come in and try to take the town. If they love to bellow so why don’t they go out in the woods around Lafayette and do it to their hearts content.” The snub “country jakes” is a jab at Purdue’s notoriety as an agricultural school and belies a distinct snobbery at the rural-urban cultural divide which was likely a common sentiment for city-dwellers such as Esther.

In what today would seem a bit of a gendered role reversal, Esther spends much of the game explaining the sport to her befuddled but increasingly interested father. The game she describes is quite different but still recognizable to the sport in its modern form. The match consists of two 45 minute innings. Touchdowns are worth four points and conversion kicks add another two. Teams have three downs to advance the ball five yards. Colonel Cannon’s martial sensibilities are particularly delighted by offensive plays employing the flying wedge formation, which is unsurprising considering the early football tactic was based on a centuries-old military maneuver (and then quickly banned in 1894 because it caused so many injuries).

As this is a story written by an Irvington resident, it predictably ends happily for Butler. The Butlers (the nickname Bulldogs was not adopted until 1921) rally in the second inning and ultimately win the match 12-10. The Purdues (the term Boilermaker wouldn’t make an appearance until the following year in 1891) fail to get any more points on the board. Colonel Cannon has been converted to football fandom and Esther can now safely invite her beau to dinner without dooming him to her father’s archaic notions on collegiate sports.

While Esther and Colonel Cannon are fictional characters, this game really did happen and was held Nov. 27, 1890. It was the state championship game for Indiana football and extensive coverage of the match appeared in multiple Indianapolis newspapers.

Indianapolis Journal, Nov. 28, 1890. From Newspapers.com.

While 1890 was a bit too early for photographs of the event to be printed in local papers, it was deemed an important enough event by the Indianapolis News to dispatch an artist to draw illustrations for the story.

Indianapolis News Nov. 28, 1890. Images from the game-day coverage. From Hoosier State Chronicles.

Adding to the day’s drama was the fact that a rowdy post-match victory drive through the streets of Indianapolis resulted in a large wagon referred to as a “tally-ho” being overturned and seriously injuring several football revelers, though all seem to have survived the ordeal.

Football continues to be an important part of Thanksgiving in Indiana, especially for Purdue. While the school no longer plays Butler in football, their annual Oaken Bucket game against in-state rival Indiana University is usually played near Thanksgiving. The weekend following Thanksgiving is also when high schools from throughout the state converge on Indianapolis to battle for various football championships. And of course, millions of Hoosiers will tune in to watch professional football from the National Football League, a holiday tradition that dates back to the NFL’s first Thanksgiving game held in 1934.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

‘In the matter of J. Robert Oppenheimer;’ the saga of a government publication

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Publishing a book is normally a very lengthy and complex process. Texts must be read thoroughly, proofread, checked for accuracy and edited accordingly. Printing machinery must be calibrated and prepped with enough ink and paper. In the pre-internet era, instant publication of important information in print form faced many hurdles.

The Government Printing Office has always been accustomed to confronting this dilemma. Founded in 1861 as the official publisher of all federal government materials, the GPO has a considerable amount of experience in quickly churning out print materials for consumption by the American public. However, in June of 1954 they faced a particularly difficult challenge. The physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer was undergoing a hearing in front of the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission. At the heart of the hearings was whether Oppenheimer, the man who was selected by the U.S. military to helm the top-secret laboratory at Los Alamos where the atomic bomb was developed, should continue to hold a high-level security clearance and have access to the country’s most sensitive data on atomic weapons. Oppenheimer’s war record, post-war activities and the events leading to his hearing with the AEC in 1954 have been discussed in greater detail elsewhere. In summation, the hearing involved testimony from several dozen witnesses, many of whom were prominent men in political, military and scientific fields. This was not a public hearing and all witnesses were assured by the AEC that their statements would remain confidential.

Logo of the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission.

The chief instigator of the hearings was the chair of the AEC, Lewis Strauss. For a variety of political and personal reasons, Strauss had developed an intense dislike of Oppenheimer and displayed an obsessive fixation on removing him from a position of decision-making power. Concerned that Oppenheimer enjoyed too much public goodwill due to his part in developing the first atomic bombs and helping end the war, Strauss desperately wanted to portray Oppenheimer in as negative a light as possible. The result of the hearing was a foregone conclusion: Oppenheimer’s security clearance was going to be revoked regardless of any testimony for or against it and Strauss felt that making the hearing public would help show the American people that Oppenheimer was not the “atomic age” hero they all believed him to be.

Op-ed from the June 8, 1954 issue of The Indianapolis Star in support of Oppenheimer. From the article: “Dr. Oppenheimer is one of America’s most brilliant scientists. His country owes him a tremendous debt for his work on perfecting the atomic bomb, and later the hydrogen bomb. Certainly America owes him the greatest possible consideration for his services. Certainly we must bend over backward, even to the point of taking some risk, to uphold him now.” This is an example of the kind of sentiment Strauss was desperate to quash with the release of the transcripts.

Sometime shortly after June 11, 1954, Strauss strongly urged, and was able to convince, other members of the AEC to publish the transcripts of the hearings in their entirety and to do it as soon as possible. The AEC desperately tried to reach each witness and alert them that statements they had made under the assurance of confidentially would shortly become public knowledge and fodder for the press.

The transcript of the hearing ended up comprising a whopping 3,000 pages. Much of the discussions held within revolved around confidential national security issues and therefore someone would need to read through everything very carefully and redact any information deemed too sensitive for public consumption. Someone else would need to go through the entire transcript and perform basic editing. The final product, titled “In the matter of J. Robert Oppenheimer,” ended up comprising 993 pages and was officially released on June 15, 1954, mere days after Strauss convinced the AEC to go ahead with publication. It was no small feat that the GPO was able to produce this massive volume so quickly and thus make important information available to the American public.

The final product from GPO. Note the date stamped in the upper corner. The volume was released June 15, 1954. The Indiana State Library received their copy several weeks later on July 8, 1954.

The release received a front page headline in the Indianapolis Star.

Ultimately, the swift publication of the hearing did not have the affect Strauss wanted. Instead of damning Oppenheimer in the mind of the American public, many were alarmed at what they perceived as governmental bullying since parts of the hearing veered into salacious aspects of Oppenheimer’s personal life. Others noted that most of the security-related objections to Oppenheimer were well-known prior to his war work on the Manhattan Project. Essentially, the government had known most of the information released in the hearing and still trusted him to oversee the largest top-secret military project in history. The motivation to remove him from playing any role in the further development of atomic weapons was deemed political and petty and would eventually factor into Strauss’s own political downfall several years later.

The full unredacted transcript of the hearing was declassified in 2014 and is available in its entirety from the U.S. Department of Energy here.

In 2022, the decision to revoke Oppenheimer’s security clearance was officially vacated. The full text of the decision made by the Department of Energy is available here.

Sources
Curtis, Charles P. “The Oppenheimer case: the trial of a security system.” New York: Simone and Schuster, 1955. (ISLM QC16.O62 C8)

Schlesinger Jr., Arthur M. “The Oppenheimer case.” The Atlantic, October 1954.

Stern, Philip M. “The Oppenheimer case: security on trial.” New York : Harper & Row, 1969. (ISLM QC16.O82 S69)

U.S. Atomic Energy Commission. “In the matter of J. Robert Oppenheimer: transcript of hearing before the Personnel Security Board.” Washington, D.C. Government Printing Office, 1954. (ISLM p.d. 925 O62i)

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Hadley Industrial School for Girls

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Known primarily as a significant driving force in the national movement to ban the sale of alcohol, which it saw as a corrosive force destroying families, the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union was a national organization involved in many other endeavors, all of which were rooted in a fiercely religious approach to social reform. In addition to raising concerns about the evils of alcohol consumption, the WCTU also advocated for female suffrage, prison reform, raised concerns about child labor, promoted regular church attendance and even took an interest in eugenics. As a group, they also encouraged rather strict guidelines on how women should comport themselves. Much of their work stressed themes such as morality and purity and focused on women’s issues like home economics. One manifestation of this endeavor were the industrial schools created by various WCTU chapters throughout the country.

The Indiana division of the WCTU was formed in 1874. Several years later in 1890, a prominent Hendricks County Quaker named Addison Hadley decided to donate a sizeable plot of farmland to the WCTU for the creation of a home for “neglected, abandoned and orphan girls.” Located slightly southwest of the city of Danville, the Hadley Industrial School for Girls opened in 1894. Its motto was “Our ideal: Right living. Our method: Training in industry. Our field: The state.”

Etching of the Hadley Industrial School for Girls.

While the school was intended for young girls and teenagers who found themselves in dire conditions, there was still an expectation that it would only accept “worthy” girls who were not “incorrigible” and could be molded to the devout and industrious ideals espoused by the WCTU. This idea of worthiness is expressed in much of the informational pamphlets and annual reports produced about the school throughout its existence. Such sentiments were alluded to in the school’s application form with the following questions: “Is the applicant truthful and honest? Does she use profane language? Is she disposed to appreciate her opportunities?”

Once accepted to the Hadley School, girls were given an education involving a standard curriculum comparable to what would have been found in local public schools, as well as rigorous training in home economics. In addition to cleaning, cooking and sewing, the girls were expected to help run the farm. The farm produced butter, milk, eggs, jams and jellies, wheat and lumber. All money raised went back into the school. When not involved in educational or industrial pursuits, the girls regularly attended religious services and were expected to be involved in local temperance movement activities.

Despite the lofty but strict ideals on which it was based, the school struggled to be successful. A study of its annual reports show that funding was a perennial problem. Even though the school provided a fair amount of farm labor in the form of the girls themselves, running a farm was extremely arduous work in the late 19th century and required an actual farmer to oversee operations. The school had a difficult time retaining a competent farmer as they could not provide much commensurate financial compensation. The same held true for other staff at the school. There simply was not enough money to pay anyone. By the early 1900s, turnover was very high. According to the 1903 annual report, “the Managing Board has had much anxiety in regard to finding suitable officers to live at the school and keep the Home as it should be kept.” Crop failures, many of which stemmed from indifferent farming techniques, also compounded the school’s problems as did the inability to afford essential farm equipment. To further exacerbate issues, in 1904 the school’s teacher failed to pass a certification examination and the school lost what little public funding it received and was forced to send girls to the local public school for that part of their education.

The Indiana WCTU released this cookbook as a way to make money for the school.

In 1902, a representative of the Board of State Charities conducted an inspection of the Hadley School. At the time of inspection, there were 35 girls living in the school. The building had no bathtub and the “home was clean but so inadequately furnished that a general impression of untidiness was given.” The girls’ clothing was considered “rather poor in quantity, quality and repair.” The school maintained a small library of “several hundred books” but the inspector felt that much of the literature was “too ‘red’ for the children.” However, not every observation was negative. The building was considered well-ventilated, and the food provided was “wholesome in character, generous in quantity and well cooked.” Most importantly, the girls’ general health was deemed “good” and the girls themselves were described as “strong and plump.” Ultimately, the overall verdict was that the school was severely lacking in certain areas and needed much work done to it. It especially needed more staff because much of the industrial work being performed at the school was “carelessly done.”

Excerpt from the 1902 Board of State Charities report.

The Hadley School was never able to correct its course and was officially turned over to the Children’s Home Society in 1910. The school building was eventually torn down sometime in the mid-20th century.

While the school was not particularly successful, it doubtless played an important role in the lives of the girls sent there to learn. Some girls were returned to their families once it was ascertained those families could resume care, others were adopted by families both within and outside of Indiana. A few went on to attend college. Many married and transferred the domestic skills they learned at Hadley to the running of their own households. And this, of course, was the ultimate goal of the school: To create reverent and hard-working wives and mothers who ensured that the principals championed by the WTCU would endure.

Indeed, the Indiana WTCU soldiered on and would eventually see their many years of diligent temperance work yield results with the adoption of the Eighteenth Amendment in 1920 which banned alcohol sales throughout the country. Prohibition was repealed in 1933 but the organization continued to operate for the rest of the century and remains active to this day.

Sources
Davidson, Joe Harris. “Indiana W.C.T.U. Industrial School for Girls.” Indiana, 1967. (ISLO 371.9 no. 16)

Hendrickson, Francis. “Hoosier Heritage, 1874-1974: Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.” Indianapolis, 1974. (ISLI 178.06 W872h)

“History of the Indiana W.C.T.U. Hadley Industrial School for Girls.” Indiana : Indiana Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, 1894. (ISLO 371.9 no. 9)

Rogers, A.K., Mrs. “Report of visit to Hadley Industrial School for Girls for the Indiana Board of State Charities.” Indianapolis: Indiana Board of State Charities, 1902. (ISLO 371.9 no. 13)

“Woman’s Christian Temperance Union of Indiana Meeting.” Annual meeting of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union of the State of Indiana. (ISLI 178.06 W872c)

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Montgomery bus boycott

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Most Americans know how the Montgomery bus boycott began: On Dec. 1, 1955 an African American woman in Montgomery, Alabama named Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to relinquish her bus seat to a white man. This seemingly innocuous act of civil disobedience led to a year-long boycott of Montgomery’s bus system by the city’s Black population and ended up being one the early battles in this country’s civil rights movement, a campaign which sought to promote and ensure racial equality after centuries of abuse.

Shortly after the arrest, Montgomery’s religious and civic leaders formed the Montgomery Improvement Association. Led by Ralph Abernathy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Edward Nixon, the MIA quickly organized travel alternatives for the boycotters. Privately-owned cars were used for carpools and people were encouraged to walk or bike when possible. Frequent rallies were held in local churches to help bolster the public’s resolve.

First article on the boycott in Indianapolis’s preeminent African American newspaper, the Indianapolis Recorder (Dec. 10, 1955).

Running a months-long boycott of this kind required a great deal of money. Not only did the MIA need hundreds of vehicles for their carpools, but those vehicles also required gas and frequent maintenance. Retaliation against the boycotters was endemic. Many carpool drivers were habitually pulled over and ticketed for minor or non-existent traffic violations. Some lost their jobs for participating in the boycott and needed financial assistance to survive. Representatives of the MIA made their way to other cities, particularly those in the north, to explain the situation in Montgomery and appeal for both public support and funds.

In March 1956, an MIA representative named Johnnie Carr appeared at a fundraiser in Indianapolis, hosted by the local chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Carr was a particularly appropriate person to represent the boycott. Born Johnnie Rebecca Daniels, Carr was a childhood friend of Rosa Parks. She also had been involved in civil rights activism for several years prior to the bus boycott.

Announcement of Carr’s meeting in the Indianapolis Recorder (March 31, 1956).

Program for Carr’s Indianapolis meeting from the Indiana State Library collection (ISLO 325.26 no. 5).

According to The Indianapolis Recorder’s coverage of the event, Carr spoke to a crowd of over 600 people at the Philips Temple Church and received a standing ovation. Her speech was one of absolute resolve, an assurance that the boycott would continue and that the rights and dignity of Montgomery’s citizens would prevail. The event managed to raise over $1,300 for the boycott cause (approximately $14,000 adjusted for inflation).

Indianapolis Recorder headline quoting Carr, April 7, 1956.

Carr’s prediction was correct. After lengthy legal maneuvers, the United States Supreme Court ultimately ruled that Montgomery’s practice of bus segregation was unconstitutional. The boycott officially ended in December of 1956.

The Montgomery bus boycott was an early and important victory in the civil rights campaign. Despite being a local issue to Alabama, it ended up garnering worldwide attention. Much of that was thanks to the tireless work of people like Carr and others in the MIA.

Complete digitized issues of the Indianapolis Recorder, documenting African American life in Indianapolis from 1899 to 2005 can be found on Hoosier State Chronicles.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Indiana’s bobbed menace

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The 1920s were an exhilarating and decadent era for Americans. With one devastating World War behind them, they were ready for peace, stability and fun. Businesses boomed, people prospered and modern technologies like radio and cinema exposed individuals to ideas and sensations never before experienced. All these changes had a particularly profound effect on the nation’s young women. They began to chafe against what they perceived as old-fashioned restraints on their behavior and appearance. Beginning in 1922, they could vote. They held jobs, shortened their skirts, wore make-up, smoked, drank alcohol (despite – or because of – Prohibition) and perhaps most shocking of all, they cut their hair and made the stylishly short bob the default hairstyle for women everywhere.

There is much debate over the origin of the bobbed hair fad of the 1920s. Some attribute it to a particular Parisian barber. Others to the 1910s dancer and megastar Irene Castle who shortened her tresses in 1915 for convenience prior to undergoing surgery and a long hospital stay. Another theory attributes the popularity of short hair to the prevalence of Joan of Arc imagery used in propaganda campaigns throughout the first World War, where she was often depicted as having short hair. Whatever its origins, once it took hold among the nation’s young women, it spread rapidly and thoroughly, including here in Indiana. Of course, not everyone approved and the resulting battle over female hair length played out in various newspaper columns throughout most Indiana communities in the 1920s.

Some businesses refused to hire women with short hair, considering a bob a sign of immorality. Interestingly, in this article shorn locks – a personal decision – is given equal consideration to blonde hair, a genetic condition, although dying hair was also increasingly popular during this time period.

Indiana Daily Times, July 9, 1921.

The “loose morals” trope of the bobbed hair phenomenon was underscored by accounts such as this article which gleefully highlights the offender’s hair style in the headline.

Daily Banner (Greencastle), Oct. 27, 1931.

As the bobbed hair craze took over the country, attempts were made to discourage the trend. Articles appeared encouraging women to keep their hair long thus retaining their “crowning glory.” Some articles offered “scientific” advice on how to quickly regrow hair for those regretting their bob. Underscoring many of these articles was the notion that long hair was inherently feminine and that women who deviated from this norm were an abomination of traditional womanhood.

South Bend News Times, Feb. 22, 1922.

Other articles argued that bobbed hair was somehow more expensive to upkeep than long hair. This brief article fails to make an actual argument in support of that thesis but still manages to throw out an inflammatory accusation with the almost certainly fabricated quote “…bobbing does destroy a girl’s personality… we all look like orphan asylum inmates.”

Greenfield Herald, Sept. 20, 1924.

Bobbed hair was used as a scapegoat for more serious social ills such as the dissolution of marriages and even suicide.

Evansville Courier and Press, Oct. 11, 1923. Brown County Democrat, Aug. 24, 1922.

Despite this barrage of negative media, bobbed hair did have its proponents in popular media. Some considered the hairstyle more hygienic and practical, such as the president of the Indiana State Board of Health, although he did use this opportunity to publicly scorn makeup use.

Garret Clipper, April 10, 1924.

While some businesses completely banned bobbed hair among female employees, others allowed it, albeit with some reluctance.

South Bend News Times, Aug. 14, 1921.

Still, others pointed out that women’s appearances and fashions have been constantly changing throughout recorded human history and that short hair and short skirts were not necessarily a new fad, but a return to an older social norm.

Evansville Courier and Press, Oct. 8, 1923.

But perhaps the strongest proponents of bobbed hair were the millions of young women who gleefully sliced off their long locks. For many it was a statement of personal choice and preference, a symbol of modernity and, as with voting, a chance to be citizens on their own terms.

Pictures of unidentified Hoosier women with bobbed hair circa the 1920s. From the Indiana Picture Collection, Rare Books and Manuscript Collection.

The trend became so prevalent, that by the middle of the 1920s it was very difficult to find any young women with long hair. Indeed, one occasionally finds them in the pages of local high school yearbooks. One has to wonder, how did these girls feel about their long tresses? Were they forbidden to cut their hair by their parents? Did they simply like having long hair? Or maybe they sensed that a daring and scandalous trend is no longer daring and scandalous when absolutely everyone does it and therefore by refraining, they signify themselves as unique and rebellious?

A long-haired holdout from Kokomo High School, class of 1923 (ISLI 379 K79 1923).

The social propensity to police women’s appearances did not end with the bobbed hair fad of the 1920s. While fashion dictates throughout the rest of the 20th century caused hair to lengthen again, the bob has remained a standard for millions of women everywhere. Public outrage gradually moved away from hair length to other considerations such as the wearing of pants, bikinis, crop tops, leggings, tattoos, etc. While contemporary women have a great deal more choice when it comes to how they appear and hair length is largely considered a simple personal choice and not a brazen social statement, it is helpful to remember that these have been hard-fought battles.

This blog post was written by Jocelyn Lewis, Catalog Division supervisor, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”