Vintage shots from days gone by!

BTW, as for the stripped-down chassis, I'd think they'd display one of their Supercharger models.

 

The loco in the backround at the Forney, I think, is one of the Big Boys. They were 1.4 million lbs, largest loco ever built. We've all seen so much stuff in our twisted lives it's hard to keep it all straight!

 

On the Graham again: I think they dropped their eight after '35 and introduced the Crusader six. So, maybe it's logical that they'd be hyping the Crusader. (Note the scheduled square dance to draw folks in.) From the distance I honestly can't see if the low-profile Kishline supercharger is on there or not.

 

Yes, as I stated yesterday it is a '37. '38's and '39's are easily identified by their own distinctive appearances and '41's are completely different bodies. There is nothing to speculate about it being any of these other years.

 

A few photos from my grandmother's photo albums.


March, 1952


L-R: My uncle, grandfather, dad. Approx. '58.




Beachburg, Ontario - Hanging out around the fair grounds

 

My apoligies also, the train threw me off too.


BB

 

Paving Main Street, Beachburg, Ontario - 1935:

 

Wonder how it rode on the solid rubber tires?

 

Apology is totally not needed. I try to hit the Forney every trip to Denver to see our son. It was started by the owner of Forney welding equipment. It's kind of low buck, even has motion sensor lights in the building to save $$. But they have several quality cars.

 

Got a kidney belt?

 

This is my father when he was 4 I believe. Kerville Texas 1964

 

This is the lesser used east entrance to Zion. A few years ago, I was working there and hiked up and over the farthest visible cliff to the main part of Zion. Nice hike through pine woods.

 

It is not a De Lux, it is at best a 120 built for the masses. You can tell by the fender lines. They are not sweeping fenders as the Senior series such as the Super 8s. The Super * had various Models also, starting with the 1501 and going up scale from there. The 110 was the base model, 120 a step up. I am not sure if they went up to 140 in 1937.

Sorry, I did not enclude the prior quote, my bad.

Here they are: Originally Posted by rainhater1
I was looking for the squared off hood can't really see it but have to agree with you, the 41's had the hood go all the way to the radiator

I think it's a 37 De luxe. Split windsheilds started in 38.

 

I love the "atmosphere" of this picture, a hard working tractor in the foreground and that nice old 37 Ford in the background. I could just imagine "Poverty Flats" driving by, looking for a cafe and a piece of pie!

 

Washington DC 1924, picture's from here. Truck on the left is a White.

 

Boston Molasses Disaster



http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_molasses_flood

 

How about some Cords (and one Auburn)? All taken in L.A. around '42-'46:









This one really threw me - a '36 or '37 Cord "updated" with a '42 Caddy front clip:

 

Memphis

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piggly_Wiggly

 

Thanks for posting the link to the story. That's not where I found the photo and there was no story included with it.

 

Back in the day!

 

Texas roadsign, early 40s:

​

 

Road sign someplace in Utah, mid 30s:

​

 

Zion Nat.Park, mid 30s:

​

 

Someplace in Ohio, early 30s:

​

 

Defense Plant workers on lunch break, 1942:

​

 

Housing Aid Ad for Defense Workers, 1941/42:

​

 

Many HAMBers are old enough to have seen carnival and circus sideshow attractions when they were kids. Some acts were simply bogus, but others centered upon human beings with unfortunate physical or genetic anomalies. Since the 1800s, curiosity seekers flocked to witness these folks' afflictions with their own eyes. The attraction, I think, lay somewhere between an uncomfortable fascination and something like xenophobia. These were often referred to as freak shows, at least generically, and the term didn't fade from the lexicon until well into the 20th century. J. Tithonus Pednaud has written on the subject and prefers the term "human marvels." I like the term, even though I don't usually subscribe to political correctness, especially when it means sugar-coating history. It's worth noting, though, that some of the actual medical terms for various deformities and anomalies are pretty blunt.

By the post-WWI era, sideshows -- indeed circuses and carnivals themselves -- had been somewhat marginalized by other entertainment forms or driven into mergers or completely out of business. But in their heyday, promoters from P.T. Barnum to Robert Ripley exploited these folk, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. In many cases, physically challenged individuals felt ostracized or ridiculed in their own communities and accepted show-biz offers as the only viable alternative. A few banked enough money to retire from the spotlight and forge somewhat comfortable lives for themselves. As Penaud noted, some, wisely perhaps, viewed as gifts what others saw only as afflictions.

Like many customs, trends and fads covered on this thread, shows exploiting physical anomalies have all but disappeared. (As I'll cover a little later, not everyone sees this as closure nor even a good thing.) But, like it or not, this odd aspect of the entertainment business did serve to help define an era. IMO, the "freak" show should be honored by no means . . . but to deny, or conveniently forget, would dishonor the memory of fellow human beings afflicted through no fault of their own. Indeed, remembering what has gone before is, IMO, a step toward understanding and, perhaps, compassion.




Joseph Merrick, the so-called "Elephant Man,"
was born in 1862. Rather than elephantiasis as
originally thought, Merrick suffered from
Proteus Syndrome. This and other photos are
thanks to ListVerse and were sourced mainly
from Human Marvels, authored by J. Tithonus
Pednaud to whom I am grateful.



Joseph Merrick was photographed in the advanced stage of his genetic deformation by a medical doctor for science's sake.
Merrick's sharp mind was never affected by his physical condition. But he was mentally tortured by the cruelty of various
unsympathetic individuals. This photo is thanks to Wikipedia.





Mademoiselle Gabrielle, The Half Lady,
was really Gabrielle Fuller, born in Swit-
zerland in 1884. At 16 she joined the circus
at the Paris Exposition of 1900, thereafter
traveling with P.T. Barnum. That her body
ended neatly below her pelvis did not keep
her from a somewhat normal life. Indeed,
she was married twice.




In 1930 in remote Manchukuo , a Chinese province, a Russian traveler
met a peasant he knew only as Wang (or Weng). The man only differed
from fellow farmers in that he had a 14-inch spikelike "horn" that had
formed on his head. The discoverer sent the above photo to Robert
Ripley of "Believe It or Not" fame. Though Ripley offered a large cash
award to anyone who could find Wang and pursuade him to appear in
Ropley's "Odditorium," Wang disappeared and was never seen again.




Though he became famous in show business as "Lionel, the Lion
Faced Boy," Stephan Bibrowsky was born to normal parents in
Poland in 1890. But a rare disorder, Hyperrichosis, soon caused
his entire body to be covered in a thick coat of fur. In fact, medi-
cal science had only documented around 50 cases of the condition
since the Middle Ages. In show business, Stephan was definitely
not presented as some sort of beast. He always wore fine clothing.
He was cultured, literate and, in fact, spoke five languages.

 

Photo thanks to KateWelshofer.

I can remember, when I was young, seeing an "Alligator Woman" and a "Gorilla Girl," for two. There were giants and dwarfs, of course. I remember a two-headed calf and a five-legged calf. There were also people who possessed or had cultivated special, salable talents. Most circuses, e.g., had a "strong man" act, and "Cannonball Man" comes to mind. His feat was withstanding a cannon ball shot to the midsection.

Some other famous attractions (widely copied, of course) went by the stage names "The Human Skeleton," "Hop, the Frog Boy," "The Human Caterpillar," "The Bearded Baroness," "Koo Koo, the Bird Girl," "Schlitzie, the Pinhead," "The Armless Dynamo" and many more. Though people paid to see side shows, in part to escape the boredom of mundane daily life, I do think that many came away with unexpected appreciation or understanding, even respect for those living with out-of-the-ordinary conditions. I won't call them disabilities, at least not in all instances. Many of these folk managed to turn apparent curses into blessings and, in fact, earned better pay than the ordinary, "normal" man on the street. Unlike the unfortunate Merrick, some enjoyed their notoriety and were known for their sharp minds and wits. To be sure, many gained lasting fame for their uniqueness, some found life mates and had children, and numerous books celebrate their humanity in the face of what most would term adversity.




Photo thanks to PaperBlog.

 

While I've said that I found outright exploitation somehow unconscionable (though normal in the context of the time), I recognize that there are other points of view, on this or any subject. Also, maybe insights that have not occurred to me, in the context of my personal background. So, I'd like to cite the following reader commentary from Mr. Pednaud's site. Unfortunately, the writer didn't give a real name. But, I honestly found some persuasive points here! (I underscored two passages in particular.) See what YOU think:


"I [ ] had to add my two cents. Some people feel sad that people with birth defects made a living on the Freak Show circuit. But when 'politically correct' people outlawed Side Shows — these folks were 'put out to pasture.' They had severe difficulty finding employment. Indeed, at the time, many 'Freaks' were wealthier than the 'rubes' who paid their money to see them.

"Let me put it another way — today we have, in the US, the 'Disabilities Act' that is supposed to protect the rights of individuals with 'disabilities'. How many people with disabilities are actually working? These people were proud working people, who showed that their 'disability' was a gift to marvel at, and were proud of their 'uniqueness', which they could profit from. They were in show business, and they were, for the most part, treated well. What is sad is depriving someone of a living, and MAKING them dependent on the state.

"Old timers can remember that the Sideshow was the BEST and most popular parts of Circuses and Carnivals. It opened a lot of peoples minds, and exposed 'normal' kids to a part of life — and a way of life. Kids routinely, at one time, ran away to join Circuses! Freaks are cool! It is OK to be so controversial in your appearance that you are the center of attention. Rock Stars routinely make themselves up to look 'Freakish'. It’s sad that society these days deprives real freaks from making a decent living."

 

By 1931 Director Tod Browning was red hot, coming off a successful three-movie contract with MGM. This included directing silent superstar Lon Chaney in the shockers "London After Midnight" and Lon's only soundie, a remake of his "The Unholy Three." He capped those triumphs, bringing Bela Lugosi to chill audiences in the screen adaptation of the long-running stage play based on Bram Stoker's "Dracula."

But those films all drew audience shock with a combination of make-up effects and acting talent. By contrast, it would seem that his next film, "Freaks," struck a deep and unsettling chord in the general audience psyche.

Browning (who had himself run away and joined the circus at 16) brought the melodrama "Freaks" to the silver screen. Though the film was a fictional story, it starred a variety of real-life sideshow artists. To Browning's credit, none of the "human marvels" served as mere window dressing but, in fact, almost all enjoyed screen time intended to show their talents, personalities and humanity. Furthermore, Browning's script called for reversal of the usual roles, making the "freaks" the reel-life heroes. As the plot unwound, audiences' emotions and values were probed and tested.

Browning must have been aghast at the net negative reception, effectively a career-ending directorial failure. Today, Browning's film is something of a cult classic and screen triumph, in a category virtually of its own. Maybe not surprisingly, the offbeat movie upset many a ticket-buyer and had a rough time at the box office originally, maybe in part due to MGM's apparent decision to conduct the movie's promotion, frankly, in an exploitative manner. The movie was banned, or heavily edited, in many cities and in several foreign countries for decades. But "Freaks" found a measure of redemption, winning awards at the Cannes Film Festival in 1962.

It had only taken the public three decades to grasp Browning's point.






Poster thanks to WhatCulture



Browing himself with about half of cast members,
thanks to TVWorthWatching




Above two photos thanks to PaperBlog.


Photo thanks to MySpace.