The first two elephants brought to the United States arrived separately. Both were newsworthy. One arrived in 1796; the other in 1804. What they had in common was the fact that they were destined for lives of travel so they could be shown to the public as curiosities.

At the turn of the 19^th century, there were no zoos in America, and circuses, also new to the country, were not yet presenting elephants. The owners of the elephants each had to figure out how to feed, transport, and make money on these exotic animals. The first elephant was sold several times; the second elephant found a single owner who kept her for the remainder of her life, using her as the first exotic animal in his menagerie.

The Crowninshield Elephant

The first elephant to arrive in the United States is known as the Crowninshield elephant. It is so called because the captain of the ship, The America, was Jacob Crowninshield. The Crowninshield family operated a shipping business out of Salem, Massachusetts.

The first documentation of the Crowninshield elephant was on November 2, 1795, in Captain Crowninshield’s own journal: “We take home a fine young elephant two years old, at $450.00. It is almost as large as a very large ox, and I dare say we shall get it home safe, if so it will bring at least $5000.00. We shall at first be obliged to keep it in the southern states until it becomes hardened to the climate.”  [From An Account of the Private Armed Ship America of Salem, by B.B. Crowninshield.]

The America, left Calcutta on December 3, 1795. One of the officers on board was named Nathaniel Hathorne. (His son, altering the spelling of the family’s last name to Hawthorne, would go on to write books including The House of the Seven Gables and The Scarlet Letter.) The shipboard Hathorne’s journal makes note of the elephant.

During a replenishment stop at St. Helena Island, due west of the African country of Angola in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, Hawthorne wrote: “greens for the elephant.” According to George G. Goodwin in Natural History magazine, Hathorne then wrote in capital letters: “ELEPHANT ON BOARD.” Some have interpreted this to mean that Hathorne was surprised to discover the elephant midway through the journey, but it is hard to believe that Hathorne wouldn’t have observed a large animal in cargo and that none of the men would have talked about it.

Elephant Arrives in Salem

After they docked in Salem, Captain Crowninshield sold the elephant. From there, historians trace the elephant’s whereabouts via newspaper advertising: On April 23, 1796, The Argus and Green Leaf Advertiser ran an ad that described the exhibition of an elephant in New York at the corner of Beaver and Broadway. Other ads put the elephant in Boston, Marblehead, and Beverly, Massachusetts. His appearance in Philadelphia was in the spring. This may have been after a trip south to avoid the colder weather in New England.

The elephant may have been returning south that following autumn, as we have documentation from President George Washington himself. George Washington always kept careful track of information, and in his Philadelphia Household Account Book (11/16/1796), he noted that he paid to see the elephant. (For a Short Time Only by Peter Benes.)

Old Bet Arrives in the U.S.

Another elephant, eventually known as Old Bet, arrived in Boston harbor in 1804. Some have speculated that the Crowninshield elephant and Old Bet were one and the same. However, contemporary descriptions of the two elephants make it clear that the two differed substantially in size and appearance.

The second elephant’s future owner was destined to be Hachaliah Bailey (1774-1845), a farmer and entrepreneur in Somers, New York. (There is much confusion over this Bailey exhibiting an elephant, but he was not a relative of James Bailey or Barnum & Bailey.) Bailey and other farmers saw that despite their hard work, farms were very dependent on the weather. Without other enterprises, it was difficult to change one’s lot in life. Bailey was a part owner of a Hudson River shipping sloop. He also became a partner in the Croton Turnpike Company, collecting tolls on what is now Route 100 in Westchester County.

Later, Hachaliah Bailey owned the Red Bird Stagecoach line. His most lasting legacy is the Elephant Hotel. In 1807, he bought land at a crossroad point in Somers, New York. It’s now the center of town, and known as Route 202. In 1820, he began constructing what would become the Elephant Hotel. The tavern and inn opened in 1825. (Today the building still stands and is used as the Somers municipal building. It was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2005.)

Acquiring Bet

The story goes that Hachaliah Bailey took cattle to New York City, planning to sell the cattle at the slaughter yards located in lower Manhattan. Somers historian Terry Ariano, writing for The Westchester Historian (summer 2008) dates this particular trip as either 1805 or 1806. Farmers often drove the cattle on foot but because Bailey owned a sloop and used it for other goods, he may have loaded his cattle on to the boat to take them down the Hudson to the slaughter yards.)

Slaughterhouse business was often conducted at the Bull’s Head Tavern in lower Manhattan. It was near there that Bailey saw the elephant and decided to buy her. Some say that he intended to use the elephant as a beast of burden to help with farm work. Others think he always saw the possibility of exhibiting her.

As Bailey led the elephant to the sloop to transport her to Somers, he saw that Old Bet attracted a lot of attention. Once back in Somers, he offered viewings, charging 25 cents to see Old Bet. After the people of Somers saw her, he took her to other towns. Bailey and Bet visited Putnam and Dutchess Counties, traveling at night so that people along the road would not get a “free look.”

Once he arrived at a new location, he rented a barn where he could keep Bet out of sight. Then he advertised that people should come to see her.

Exotic Animals Attract Attention

As a result of Hachaliah’s success, his neighbors realized the potential in exotic animals. As they saw Bailey add other animals to his collection, several of them did, too. Somers residents purchased everything from a rhinoceros to camels, monkeys, and parrots. Somers soon became the center of the menagerie business.

People today associate elephants with circuses. (However, Ringling retired all its performing elephants in 2016 after public pressure.) In 1812, Old Bet is thought to have appeared with the equestrian performers in the Pépin & Breschard Circus. But a menagerie animal performing with a circus was unusual for the 19^th century.

Circuses were considered risqué, making them more challenging to promote. Menageries could be advertised as educational, which indeed they were. With no television or movies and at a time when few people could travel, the menageries offered the public a rare opportunity to see and perhaps learn about animals from other lands.

Travels Continue

In 1816, Hachaliah Bailey and Bet visited Maine. They sailed up the Kennebec River to Augusta and Hallowell. After visits to Lewiston and New Gloucester, they proceeded to the town of Alfred, Maine.

As they left Alfred, they were stopped by a local farmer named Daniel Davis. Davis shot and killed Bet. The stated reason for Davis’s anger was that he found it sinful for poor people to spend money to see an elephant. (Locals of the time describe Davis as a “miserable vagabond,” according to the book, For a Short Time Only.) He may have just been a troubled soul.

The marker notes that Old Bet was co-owned by Hachaliah Bailey and George Brown Company os Somers. As Bailey continued to show Bet and add other menagerie animals, he accepted investors to help defray his costs.

Later that year, Hachaliah Bailey displayed Bet’s remains in New York City, but he knew his income from Old Bet was at an end. He invested in other animals, including other elephants, and continued to tour a menagerie.

In 1821, Bailey sold Old Bet’s remains. The next record of her being on display is in the American Museum in New York City. While some report that P.T. Barnum made the purchase, he did not own the American Museum until 1841. Chances are good that a member of the Scudder family, who owned the American Museum at that time, purchased her remains. Barnum would have acquired them when he purchased the museum.

Keeping Bet’s Memory Alive

In 1825, Hachaliah Bailey’s Elephant Hotel was finished. Bailey erected a tall granite pole in front of the hotel with a wooden statue of Old Bet atop it. The location of the hotel was at the intersection of the Croton and Danbury turnpikes. This was an important stagecoach stop and offered a perfect resting place for travelers. The statue of Bet was a lovely commemoration of her. It would have also been a memorable attraction for travelers.

The original carved statue of Bet deteriorated over the years. In 2024, a local family paid for a replacement statue made of bronze. It should last for many years, continuing to mark Somers as the “cradle of the American circus.”

Bailey Moves On

In 1837, Bailey sold the hotel and bought land in Fairfax, Virginia. It became known as Bailey’s Crossroads.

Some of Hachaliah’s family remained in Somers. In 1845, Bailey came back for a visit. While there, he was kicked by a horse and died.  The family buried him in Ivandell Cemetery near Somers. His inscription reads: “Enterprise, Perseverance, and Integrity.”

Note: James Bailey who became P.T. Barnum’s circus business partner in 1881 when the two men combined their circuses is not directly related to Hachaliah Bailey. James was an orphan who joined circus man Frederick Bailey—a very distant relative of the Baileys who lived in Somers. James took his mentor’s last name.

Old Bet Remembered

Even after P.T. Barnum was no longer living, the men who ran the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus understood the importance of promotion. In 1922, Dexter “Pap” Fellows, a business manager and press agent for the circus, latched on to an idea for promoting the circus during its New York run. Fellows heard about Old Bet, by now thought of as the “first” elephant in the U.S. (probably due to the Somers statue). Fellows decided to stage a wreath-laying ceremony. A Ringling Brothers elephant would present a wreath to decorate Old Bet’s statue/memorial.

As the details were worked out, Old John, a tuskless male elephant, was chosen for the promotional stunt. Old John had been in several circuses before becoming part of Ringling in 1896 when Ringling Brothers acquired the Adam Forepaugh Circus. Old John was known as the “boxing elephant” and was named after pugilist John L. Sullivan. He wore a boxing glove on his trunk and regularly knocked out his trainer.

The Promotional Tour

Dexter Fellows wrote a book on his work with the circus. Readers must keep in mind that Fellows was a press agent, but it does provide some idea of how the trip worked out.

For the trip from the old Madison Square Garden to Somers, Old John wore a banner promoting the circus and the destination. Fellows also arranged for special leather boots to be made for John to wear on the 50-mile journey. (John did not much care for the blue boots, according to contemporary reports.)

John was to walk up Fifth Avenue where, for the sake of the news photographers, he turned and bowed to Patience and Fortitude, the two stone lions that guard the New York Public Library. From there, he was bound for the Bronx, where there was a nice barn to stay in.

Reports on his other stops vary. He definitely stayed at the Agricultural Building at the White Plains fairground. He eventually turned toward Somers.

Elephant Nears Somers

On April 11, 1922, a youngster acted as town crier and ran through Somers shouting that the elephant was near. People were indeed excited. Even if they had seen an elephant before, Old John was the first who had ever come to town. The New York Times reported:

“After a triumphal circle of the [Somers] City Square, the veteran was led to Wesley’s garage. … Old John lost no time in consuming a bale of hay, topped off with twenty buckets of water. He then settled down for a good night’s rest, parked between a motor truck and an automobile.” (The New York Times, April 12, 1922.)

The next day dawned, and The New York Times reporter writes of Old John being readied for the ceremony at the Brady Farm just outside Somers. Either the above story about the garage was inaccurate, or they moved Old John to the farm the next morning so that he could bathe and be fed again.

The Ceremony

In that day, Somers had a population of about 300 people. The reporter writes that there were about 300 cars and 2000 people along the route from the Brady Farm to the inn where Bet’s statue awaited its wreath.

Dexter Fellows arranged for a well-labeled circus truck to be visible along the route. (Later, the truck would convey Old John back to New York…John’s work was done.)

The Parade

Dexter Fellows (1871-1937) (spelled Fellowes in the NYT) led the parade. He had a cornet and invited some locals to join him to create a band. When the cornet “didn’t work very well,” Fellows led the parade using the cornet as a bandleader’s baton.

They arrived at the Elephant Hotel, and the group paused. Fellows walked over to Old John and gave a command. Old John let out a wondrous trumpeting sound and started for the inn. It took a little coaxing to slow him down and bring him back to the monument where he was to lay the wreath.

The crowd grew quiet, speeches were made, and the wreath was placed at the bottom of the pole. Then Fellows goofed up: “I see this once modest hamlet has grown to be a city of thousands of happy people—I see the influence of the Grand Old Party of which I am also an unworthy member, and I take pleasure in saluting you in this stronghold of Republicanism. Three cheers for the Grand Old Party.”

But that was as far as he got. An uproar from the crowd let Fellows know that it had been a very long time since the residents of Somers voted a Republican into office.

When the crowd calmed down, the event concluded with the singing of “Should auld acquaintance be forgot…” (Auld Lang Syne).

On to the Tavern!

Afterward, one would presume that everyone, except the youngsters and Old John, went off to the tavern to raise a glass to Old Bet, Old John, and most of all to Ringling Brothers for what was a generally successful multi-day circus promotion.

For the purpose of accuracy, we’ll hope that someone at the tavern knew that the Crowninshield elephant had preceded Old Bet to the U.S., and that this whole event was just a bit of circus fun and flim-flammery.

***

Thank you to circus historian and author David Carlyon for providing some background on the beginnings of menageries and circuses. Carlyon is author of Dan Rice: The Most Famous Man You’ve Never Heard Of (2001).

To read more stories of circus, see P.T. Barnum: Extraordinary Showman or James A. Bailey, Circus Impresario, or Mabel Stark: First Woman Tiger Trainer.

P.T. Barnum is remembered as a circus impresario, and he was definitely that. But his career spanned many decades before he went into the circus business. He published a newspaper, owned more than one retail establishment, and went into politics. At heart, however, Barnum was always interested in ways to entertain the public.

He was a good businessman. He respected his audience, but he believed that some of the stories (spoofs) he told were ones his audience wanted to believe. Most historians concur that the quote, “There’s a sucker born every minute,” was not said by Barnum.

Promotion and advertising were key to all his businesses. One fellow referred to him as the “Shakespeare of advertising.”

P.T. Barnum, Early Life

P.T. Barnum (1810-1891) was born in Bethel, Connecticut. His family was middle class, so he had sporadic opportunities to attend school. But even as a child, he was eager to work. As a boy, he drove cows to and from the pasture, helped on the farm, and rode the plow horse.

As a young adult, he became a shopkeeper, and then started a local newspaper called the Herald of Freedom. Three years into the business, however, he encountered legal trouble, so he stopped publishing. At that point, he moved to New York, casting about for what to do next.

Joice Heth, P.T. Barnum’s First Exhibit

In 1835, he came upon a down-and-out promoter who was exhibiting a slave whom the promoter said was George Washington’s mammy, Joice Heth. Barnum sensed opportunity, so he bought the slave and continued the promoter’s story, adding that she was 161 years old. (Some report that he freed Heth from slavery but kept her in his employment.)

Heth said she was a devout Baptist. This gave Barnum the hook he needed. He forged baptism documents and sent an advance man to towns they would visit to schedule meetings for Joice Heth with ministers. By presenting her documents to “men of the cloth,” Barnum hoped to establish credibility. In addition, he wrote and published her biography, The Life of Joice Heth, the Nurse of George Washington.

When abolitionists agitated about exhibiting a slave, Barnum announced that all money raised would go to anti-slavery causes. There is no record of whether or not he followed through on this. He became an abolitionist late in life, however.

Touring Heth

With the proper groundwork laid, Barnum started traveling with Joice Heth. He established himself in each town and charged people admission to come in and see her.

While not anywhere near age 161, Heth was old and infirm, so it helped with Barnum’s story. When customers arrived, Heth was happy to talk to them and make up stories about caring for little George Washington. For several months, Barnum brought in about $1500 a week from the exhibit.

When ticket sales slipped, Barnum renewed interest in her by telling reporters a new story. He explained that she wasn’t real at all; that she was actually a machine made of whale bone. This brought in paying audiences again. They wanted to come back to see for themselves that she was a living being.

Economic Slump

In 1837, Barnum hit two pieces of unrelated bad luck—the U.S. economy dipped, and Joice Heth died. He had her body autopsied. The coroner said she was probably about 80 when she passed away. To his credit, Barnum arranged for Joice Heth to be buried in the Barnum family plot in Connecticut.

For the next few years, Barnum did what he could with some small performing troupes.  But businesses were struggling, and Barnum lost money.

In 1841, Barnum learned that an attraction known as Scudder’s New York Museum was for sale. These “dime museums,” as they were called, were a popular entertainment in Europe as early as the 16^th century but they reached peak popularity in the late 18^th and early 19^th century.  The museum collections typically consisted of all sorts of oddities ranging from natural history exhibits to live fish and animals. Completely fabricated beings were not ruled out.

Opening the American Museum

In 1809, John Scudder purchased a collection from previous owners. He maintained the museum for almost thirty years. When P.T. Barnum purchased it from him in 1841, Barnum knew the more unusual the displays the better. He moved Scudder’s collection to Broadway and Ann Streets (New York City) where he housed it in a series of buildings. To attract attention, Barnum flew flags along the rooftops of the buildings and had the exterior walls decorated with paintings of animals.  He also purchased a revolving light from a lighthouse so that he could attract customers at night.

Inside, the attractions ranged from natural history displays to odd zoo animals, people made of wax, and any “freaks” that Barnum came upon in his wanderings. The “Feejee Mermaid,” a monkey torso sewn on to a fish tail, was a very popular exhibit at the museum.  There was also a theater space for lectures and performances.

Because dime museums frequently attracted “riffraff,” Barnum hired guards. He wanted women alone and families to feel safe coming to his establishment.

At the height of its popularity, the museum was open 15 hours per day, six days a week.  The public couldn’t get enough of what Barnum had to offer.

Connecticut Legislature

In 1865, shortly after Barnum relocated to Connecticut, the Museum caught fire. Everything was lost. Barnum stayed in the museum business, re-building in Manhattan. When the second museum was destroyed by a fire in 1868, Barnum closed the museum for good.

By this time, he was serving in the Connecticut legislature (1865-1869). During this time, Barnum put his heart and soul into improving Bridgeport. His headquarters were there, and he worked hard to bring new businesses to the town. Barnum later served as mayor (1875-1876).

The Circus Business Beckons

In 1871, Barnum joined circus owners Dan Castello and William C. Coup to launch P.T. Barnum’s Grand Traveling Museum, Menagerie, Caravan, and Hippodrome.  By 1875, he owned it outright.

He was always casting about for new performers. In Bridgeport, he came to know a young boy, Charles Stratton, who was affected by dwarfism. Barnum saw potential in teaching the young boy about show business. Eventually, he was presented as General Tom Thumb, one of Barnum’s most successful attractions. 

Bailey Comes to Bridgeport

James Bailey (1947-1906) was on his own at a young age and got a job with the William Lake and John Robinson Circus. When Robinson died unexpectedly, Bailey took on the role of manager. He bought an interest in another circus that came to be known as Cooper and Bailey. He eventually added other shows to his portfolio. 

As Bailey built his circus business, he knew his primary competition was P.T. Barnum. In 1880, Bailey took one of his shows to Bridgeport, Connecticut, to go head-to-head against Barnum. To Barnum’s consternation, Bailey’s circus outsold Barnum’s, taking in $2 for every $1 made by Barnum’s show.

Barnum saw benefits to Bailey’s operation and proposed a merger. Bailey took over management of business affairs, and Barnum focused on running the shows.

Among the sensations that Barnum brought to the United States was opera singer Jenny Lind (1820-1887). Known as the “Swedish Nightingale,” Americans loved her. Jumbo the elephant was also a huge attraction. Together, the two men really did run the “greatest show on earth.”

Death of the Greats

P.T. Barnum died in 1891. James Bailey succumbed unexpectedly in 1906, The Ringling Brothers, a competitor made up of seven siblings who toured their circus had their business eye on Barnum & Bailey. One of them attended Bailey’s funeral and soon made a deal with his widow. At first, the two units operated separately, but by 1919, the two operations were united for good. Fittingly, the first appearance of Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey Circus was inNew York City’s  Madison Square Garden. 

To read more about that enterprise, see the profile of James A. Bailey.  Also read How Jumbo Joined the Circus—  a great tale about two circus men and an elephant.

The dog, Lassie, that inspired books, movies, and television shows was first featured in a short story in the Saturday Evening Post in 1938. The story was by author Eric Knight who soon expanded the story to be a full-length novel, Lassie Come Home, published in1940.

Eric Knight grew up in England, and the story was set there. The plot concerned a family who is forced to sell their dog when they encounter hard times. The dog and family are separated, and the book tells the tale of the dog’s adventures as he journeys to find his young master.  When Lassie Come Home was published, it was an instant best-seller. MGM rapidly snapped up the film rights for $10,000, and made Lassie Come Home starring Roddy McDowall and Elizabeth Taylor.

Casting Lassie

When the casting call went out for a rough-coat collie, about 300 applicants submitted photos of their dogs. (To read more about the dog that got the part, “The Dog That Played Lassie.”) The director wanted a rough collie–also known as a long-haired collie–to play the part. (In Scotland, this breed of dog is raised for herding.)

Though Lassie was a female character, the dog selected was male as the dog—Pal– had the thick, beautiful coat the director was looking for. In addition to Pal’s silky coat, he had a distinctive white blaze on his face.

The dog belonged to animal breeder Rudd Weatherwax who was hired to board the dog and see that he was properly trained. After Pal was well-behaved, the family decided not to pick him up.

Having Weatherwax on board for the film was a definite asset. He and his family were soon among the top animal handlers for the entertainment industry.

Lassie Come Home was quite popular. Several sequels were made including Son of Lassie, a full-length movie starring Peter Lawford and June Lockhart (1945).

Lassie on Radio and Television

By 1947, Lassie had a radio program. The original radio show used Pal for the barking segments, but all other animal vocalizations were performed by humans.

Lassie made the transition to television in 1954. The show went through various iterations, but it remained popular until 1975. The part of Lassie was always played by an offspring of the original Pal. However, selecting the right pup with a matching blaze of white on his face remained a constant challenge.

Lassie is one of only three real dogs to have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. (The other two are Strongheart and Rin Tin Tin. Cartoon character Snoopy is also featured.)

In 2005, Lassie was named one of Variety magazine’s “Icons of the Century” for the impact she has made on young people around the world since 1938.

A Little-Known Story Behind Lassie

Less than ten years ago, British author Nigel Clarke was at work on a book about shipwrecks. He came upon a story about an incident that occurred in Dorset during World War I that involved a dog named Lassie. Clarke believes that Knight’s inspiration for the story was based on the real-life collie who saved the life of a British seaman.

On New Year’s Day in 1915, the Royal Navy battleship Formidable was torpedoed by a German submarine off Start Point, a promontory in South Devon. More than 500 men were lost.

In a storm that followed the accident, a life raft containing bodies blew along the coast to Lyme Regis. The raft was pulled ashore there. Clearly, the community wanted to help deal with the crisis. The local pub in town offered its cellar as a mortuary.

A Surprising Rescue

When the bodies were laid out on the stone floor, Lassie, a crossbred collie owned by the pub owner, found her way down amongst the bodies. She stopped near one of the victims and began to lick his face. She stayed by seaman John Cowan, nuzzling him and keeping him warm.

Finally, someone came down the stairs and noted that Cowan was trying to get up. He was taken to the hospital. He went on to make a full recovery.

A few weeks later, he returned to thank all who saved his life, particularly Lassie.

Inspiring Story

The sinking of the ship was a severe blow to Britain during these early years of the war. This story was inspirational and heart-warming. When the officers heard the story of Lassie and what she did to rescue Cowan, they told it again and again to any reporter who would listen.

Because the story was widely reported, Clarke feels that the odds are that Eric Knight read the story during the war years or came upon it later on. While Knight had moved from Yorkshire to the United States and served in the U.S. military, Clarke’s suspicion seems well-founded. In addition to both dogs being named Lassie, the story of her rescue of the sailor also bears a resemblance to the Lassie rescue stories.

What Happened to Knight?

After World War I, Eric Knight became a critic and a film writer. He moved from Philadelphia to Los Angeles, hoping to make his name in the movies. He met with many rejections, and eventually returned to Yorkshire to be a journalist, where he wrote his story about Lassie, eventually expanding it into a book.

Unfortunately, he never knew the level of success the book achieved. In January 1944 Knight was helping Frank Capra film a documentary about the war when he was killed in a plane crash. He was only 45. His death came shortly after MGM’s release of the film. It was too early for anyone to know that Lassie Come Home would become a classic.

 The tagline of the Apollo Theater in Harlem, “Where stars are born and legends are made,” captures its essence perfectly.

The theater, located at 253 West 125^th Street in New York City, first opened in 1914. It was owned by a man named Sidney Cohen who leased it to businessmen Jules Hurtig and Harry Seamon. The men opened it as a burlesque theater, which was popular at that time. It was known as Hurtig & Seamon’s New Theatre and featured raucous and suggestive comedy, appealing mostly to white men.

By the 1930s, the anti-obscenity movement was making it more difficult for these types of shows to continue.

Renamed the Apollo Theater

In 1934, owner Sidney Cohen turned the theater over to Leo Brecher and Frank Schiffman, two businessmen who owned most of the theaters in Harlem. They transformed it to a performance space for black entertainment. Frank Schiffman was the face of the operation; Brecher operated behind the scenes. Together, they built a business that attracted the best of the best in black dance, music, and comedy.

The Apollo became a beacon for performers from all over. The style of entertainment varied with the years. Comedy, dance, swing, jazz, rock ‘n’ roll, soul, hip hop, and more have all been welcomed on the Apollo stage.

Everyone Came

The Apollo eventually showcased every big-name African American performer. Many launched and grew their careers there: Dancers Charles “Cholly” Atkins, Sammy Davis, Jr., and Bill “Bojangles” Robinson; band leaders Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington; comedians Redd Foxx and Jackie “Moms” Mabley; and musicians ranging from Louis Armstrong, James Brown, and Lionel Hampton to Billie Holiday, Aretha Franklin, Nancy Wilson, and the Jackson Five.

White performers heard about what was happening on 125^th Street, and many came to study the magic. Milton Berle was just one of the artists who visited the Apollo regularly to figure out how to transform the jokes he heard there for his downtown audiences.

Musicians like Elvis Presley and John Lennon arrived in New York and had the Apollo at the top of their must-see New York destinations.

Amateur Night at the Apollo

Long before there was anything like ABC’s American Idol, Amateur Night at the Apollo offered the opportunity for newcomers to be discovered. It was held every Wednesday night for almost 80 years. (The event started in 1934, but there were a few years when the contest did not take place).

Prizes were awarded each week. Performers could return for additional competitions. If a performer received four first-place awards, they were offered a one-week professional engagement at the theater—a golden opportunity.

During the first 20 years, an estimated fifteen thousand amateur performers tried their luck with the Apollo audiences. Ella Fitzgerald, Pearl Bailey, Gladys Knight, Wilson Pickett, James Brown, and Billy Kenny of the Ink Spots are just a few of the performers who broke through on Amateur Night.

Program Celebrating the Apollo

To celebrate the 75^th anniversary of the theater’s opening, a special event was presented in 2011. It was produced by the Apollo Theater Foundation and the National Museum of African American History. Commentary from experts brought to life stories of the Apollo.

Robert G. O’Meally, the Zora Neale Hurston Professor of English and Comparative Literature at Columbia University, opened the discussion by stressing the strong sense of community that was part of the Apollo. In film clips of performances over the years, there was a consistent sense of audience involvement with shouts of pleasure and encouragement as the performers went on.

Former dance critic for Dance Magazine Zita Allen described the nonstop schedule of the chorus girls who performed regularly at the Apollo.  Mel Watkins, author of Stepin Fetchit: The Life & Times of Lincoln Perry, gave a great overview of comedians. He talked of some of the unknown comics who got started there, including Moms Mabley.

More Experts on the Apollo

James Brown was famous for his terrific performances at the Apollo. Greg Tate, editor of Everything but the Burden: What White People are Taking from Black Culture, talked of how Brown considered the Apollo an incubator for developing his music. Brown earned great respect for the precision with which his band members played.

Herb Boyd, author of Baldwin’s Harlem: A Biography of James Baldwin, talked of the Apollo’s intersection with white and black culture and the role the theater played in helping raise money for civil rights.

Unforgettable

One of the film clips shown at the public program was particularly remarkable, providing the audience with one of those “I’ll never forget this” moments. If you watch this clip, you will understand the magic that emanated from the Apollo for so many years.

While the clip is from the film, “Stormy Weather” (1943), the featured performers were regulars at the Apollo. “Jumpin’ Jive,” stars  Cab Calloway and his band with dancing by the incredibly gifted Nicholas Brothers.

Stay with the clip until about 1:45 into it to see some remarkable dancing. Then continue until the end–the last minute is awesome.

The Apollo Today

In the Spring of 2020, The Wall Street Journal interviewed Jonelle Procope, CEO of the Apollo. She discussed with the reporter the plans for growing the Apollo by adding two new performance spaces.

While the original Apollo featured a variety show format, Procope pointed out that the new space will be different.  The goal is to support black artists by giving them space to test out their works. Special focus will be given to artists telling the African American narrative and stories of the diaspora.

This is the first physical expansion in The Apollo’s history.  In addition to a top-to-bottom restoration and renovation of the historic building from 1914, the Apollo now has two new stages just down the street at The Victoria

he Apollo Stages at the Victoria Theater in Harlem, New York is the Apollo Theater’s first physical expansion in its 90-year history. The new space includes two black box theaters, a lobby, exhibition space, and administrative offices.

Today the Apollo Theater offers tours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Follow this link to book your date: https://www.apollotheater.org/tours

The concept for the first drive-in movie business originated with one man in the late 1920s. Richard M. Hollingshead, Jr. came up with the concept of watching movies from one’s car. He was looking for an alternative for his mother who was very uncomfortable in movie theaters. Hollingshead thought sitting in a car might be better for her and for others.

To view this story as a video, scroll down. The video has just been added.

Creating a Drive-In Theater

The best place to experiment with this possible plan was in his own driveway.  Taking a white bed sheet, he tacked it up between two trees in his backyard. He parked his car facing the sheet.  Next, he placed a projector on the hood of the car. He was delighted to see that once it became dark, it was relatively easy to watch a movie against the bed sheet.

Sound was the next issue he needed to address. If everyone was sitting in separate cars, how could music and dialog reach them?

For an answer, Hollingshead contacted the RCA Victor Company and described his concept for an outdoor theater. The fellow assured him that three good-sized speakers placed around a lot where cars were parked could provide adequate sound.  (When drive-in theaters first opened, they all relied on big speakers well placed around the drive-in lot.)

Making the Movie Visible to Many

To make money, Hollingshead’s needed his business  to accommodate many cars. He envisioned rows of cars with an elevated screen so cars parked further back would still be able to see the screen. That meant that for more comfortable viewing, the cars needed to tilt back ever so slightly. To accomplish that, he planned on short, low ramps to elevate the front of the car slightly.  That way passengers leaned back a bit to look up toward the raised screen.

Hollingshead received a patent for his plan on May 16, 1933. By this time, he had enlisted a couple of investors and found a 400-acre lot in Camden, New Jersey. The next step was ordering a custom-built 40 by 50-foot screen.

He named the company Park-In Theatres.

First Drive-In Movie

Hollingshead’s drive-in opened on June 6, 1933. He was there himself to get things started. He charged 25 cents per car and an additional 25 cents for each occupant. This was the Depression, so he capped the charge for any one car at a dollar.  If families could fit more than three people in the car, then they could save a bit of money.

Competitors were entering the market, and Hollingshead attempted to slow the pace by charging royalties to license his idea. Loews Drive-In Theatres were among those who made a deal with Park-In, but Hollingshead found it difficult to collect the royalties. When the case went to court, Hollingshead’s patent was eventually declared invalid.  At the time, there was no category for patenting this type of enterprise.

New Speaker System

By 1941, RCA introduced a new speaker system for use in outdoor theaters. The ground needed to be wired so that posts with two speakers could be installed between cars. Drivers would pull up into the parking places between the poles. The speakers could be removed from the pole and hung over the windows of the car. That way each family had a speaker and could control their own volume for the film.  These initial speakers were a bit tinny in sound, but the sound quality improved over time.

More Drive-Ins

By the late 1940s, more companies entered the drive-in movie business.  Following Hollingshead’s original model, tickets were sold on a per-customer basis.

Once on the property, an “usher” greeted cars with a flashlight signaling where each car should park.

Teens and some families loved to “game” the ticket system. As they drove through the ticket booth, the driver paid for himself and his companion. Once in and parked, several additional heads would often pop out from under a blanket in the backseat.

And of course, high school kids relished the privacy of the car while ostensibly watching a movie.

Concession sales were a big part of the business.  Drive-in movies usually offered double features. Theater owners provided an intermission of 10-15 minutes between features to give customers time to get to the concession stand and buy popcorn, soda, and candy.

Play Until Dark

Because the films could not begin until it was dark, theater owners installed playgrounds on the property. That way families could come early—visit the concession stand—and have an appealing way to amuse the children until dark.

With double features, parents always hoped for some bonus time. If they were lucky, the whole family enjoyed the first film, and then the kids would fall asleep for the second one.  (The idea of children sleeping during the second feature probably falls in the category of “best-laid-plans.”  I have a vivid memory of returning to the drive-in one morning with my mother; my brother had thrown one of his shoes out of the car window, and it was impossible to find it in the dark.)

Though a few drive-in movie theatres still exist, the era of drive-ins has passed. In most communities, land is too valuable for what is essentially a seasonal business that can only truly make money at night time.  Most theater owners have been perfectly willing to sell to a strip mall developer or a car company looking for a sales lot.

Here is a link to some drive-in theaters that still exist in the U.S.

To read about another type of movie experience, read about one of the movie palaces: Behind-the-Scenes at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

And here’s a story about a woman adventurer–the first woman to ever drive cross-country. Alice Huyler Ramsey.

Who Thought of the Drive-In Movie Theater? The Video

A dog named King, an Alaskan malamute, played the heroic companion to Royal Canadian Mountie Sergeant Preston on the 1955 television show, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon.  The TV show was based on a long-running radio program called Challenge of the Yukon.

Show’s Origin

The original idea for the show came from radio station owner George W. Trendle (1884-1972). His station, WXYZ Radio in Detroit, was a strong station that had a large listenership. They already originated two serial adventure programs, The Lone Ranger and The Green Hornet. Trendle thought a plotline starring a working dog would be popular. Tom Dougall and frequent radio scriptwriter Fran Striker began work on what was then called “Challenge of the Yukon.”

The story they devised concerned a crime-fighting Royal Canadian Mounted policeman during the Yukon Gold Rush (1890s).  Sergeant Preston, as he was known, had mysteries to solve and bad guys to capture. He traveled astride his horse Rex, and he was always accompanied by King, his loyal dog.

Back Story for King

The story of King as provided by the scriptwriters was that he was a Husky puppy who was separated from his mother and raised by a wolf. When a lynx comes along to make short work of mother wolf and her adopted son, Sergeant Preston arrives in time to save the pup. He names the dog King and raises him alongside his dog team. King soon proves worthy of being the team leader. (For a true story of a wolf that became the leader of a dog team, read “Sled Dog Team Travels from Nome to D.C., 1907.”)

From its inception until 1947, Challenge of the Yukon was a 15-minute program, as were most other serial dramas of the day.  The radio program became 30 minutes when it was picked up by a network. It first aired on ABC radio stations, and then from 1950-1955, the program was on the Mutual Broadcasting System. (The name change, to “Sgt. Preston of the Yukon,” did not occur until 1951.)

Radio Cast

On radio, Preston was played by Paul Sutton, followed by Brace Breemer. King was not a dog at all; his part was provided by sound effects men at the station. Soundman Dewey Cole created the initial character. When he died, he was replaced by soundman Ted Johnstone. Here is a lnk to single episodes of the radio program: https://archive.org/details/OTRR_Challenge_of_the_Yukon_Singles

In 1947, Challenge of the Yukon acquired a sponsor—Quaker Oats. The cereal company continued to sponsor the program when it made its transition to CBS television.

Sgt. Preston of the Yukon: Television Show

The television series was on CBS for three seasons, from 1955-58. For a television series, of course, a lot of new details needed to be resolved.

Though much of the program was filmed on a sound stage, the producers needed to build the sound stage in a location where outdoor footage could be filmed as needed.

The area around Aspen was being cultivated as a recreational destination, and well-respected sled dog team owner Stuart Mace was recruited to settle in nearby Ashcroft with his Toklat sled dog team.

When Trendle’s show producers visited the area, they saw that the 9500-foot elevation would extend the snowy season, and Mace’s dogs would be perfect for the scenes when a full team was needed.

Actor Dick Simmons was cast to play the part of Sergeant Preston, and of course, since King on radio was only a set of sound effects, they had to select the right dog and have him trained to perform.

Training King

The dog chosen to play King was a five-year-old Alaskan malamute.  While the dog in the show is always referred to as a huskie, the similarity between the two breeds is such that no television viewer would complain.

The CBS promotion described King thus: “the swiftest and strongest lead dog, breaking the trail in relentless pursuit of lawbreakers in the wild days of the Yukon.”

Because the production was coming out of Detroit, not Hollywood, the animal trainer chosen by the producers was a Michigan man. He was also former protégé of esteemed trainer Carl Spitz. The trainer, Beverly Allen, came to the Detroit area after World War II as this was where his wife was from. He established a dog boarding kennel in Royal Oak, a suburb of Detroit.

Allen Trained by Carl Spitz

Beverly Allen worked for Spitz before the war. He was a teenager when he first started the job, so he lived with the Spitz family at their home on the grounds of the Hollywood Dog Training School. (Terry the dog who played Toto in The Wizard of Oz as a family pet in the Spitz household.) Before the war, Spitz’s work was focused on training dogs for movies, but also providing help for people whose pets needed more training.

As World War II approached, Spitz and his team were recruited to help with the Dogs for Defense program, where families donated their dogs to serve as part of the K-9 Corps during the war. (The United States had no K-9 Corps before World War II.)

Allen worked alongside Spitz to train these dogs as well, but when he received his draft notice to enter the army, Allen’s training days ended. Because the military was still segregated, and he was black, he was assigned a construction job; all the animal handlers were white.

Training King

When Beverly Allen received the phone call from the show’s producer in the early 1950s, he was well-prepared to take the job.  No animal trainer had ever prepared a malamute (or a husky) for film work, but Allen knew he could do it.

The dog was delivered to Allen’s kennel in Royal Oak and Allen commenced King’s training. When Allen was interviewed later about his work with King, he noted that King responded best to positive training: “I simply apply the golden rule whenever working with Yukon King and he performs to perfection.”

Working in Ashcroft

During filming, Allen was on set in Ashcroft at all times. In many ways, King was the co-star of the show. Fans came to expect two specific lines at the beginning and the end of the shows: When Preston started on any case and took out the team for the next adventure, he called out to his lead dog: “On King; On you huskies.” And at the end of each show, Preston concluded: “Well, King, this case is closed.”

The show was filmed in color though most people still had only black-and-white television sets at the time.

In another interview, Dick Simmons told a reporter: “A harnessed team is a quivering mass of supercharged energy. But they’re trained not to move until they receive a verbal command. Consequently, ‘All Right,’ ‘Ready,’ ‘Let’s Go,’ or ‘Action’ is forbidden language when working around the dogs. If you make a slip, they’re off like rockets.”

The on-set staff decided the word “thirteen” would be used when the time was right to begin a scene using the dog team.

News from the Gossip  Magazines

In that day, gossip journalists filled their columns with whatever they could about film and TV star. Walter Ames, gossip columnist for The Los Angeles Times was invited to be on set when 17 malamutes were in town for some extra training. (It was probably just a press event since their training could clearly be done in Ashcroft.)  Ames wrote that he learned the dogs ate snow when they were thirsty, so when they arrived on the “snowy” set of the L.A. soundstage, the dogs all grabbed big bites of the snow. They were quite disappointed to discover it was not snow at all but granulated marble.

For all press appearances involving Sergeant Preston and King, Beverly Allen accompanied Dick Simmons and King from city to city.

Television Promotion Has Big Impact

In 1955, Quaker Oats Company sponsored a unique and popular promotion: the Klondike Big Inch Land Promotion.

Initially, people mailed in box tops to receive a deed for one square inch of a parcel of land in Yukon Territory.  The Ohio Securities Division put a stop to that because they determined this was sale of “foreign land.” Quaker got around this by changing their plans and inserting the deeds into boxes of Quaker’s Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice Cereal. Today, you can find testimonials from many who remember the promotion, some of whom still have their land deeds.

And while no one would have been able to arrive in the Yukon and claim their square inch, Quaker’s attorneys insisted that the company buy the land they claimed to give away. For $1000, Quaker Oats bought 19.11 acres of Yukon Territory.  But once the promotion was in the dust bin, no one paid much attention to what happened to the land. In 1965, the land was reclaimed by the Canadian government because a tax bill of $37.20 went unpaid. The land is now part of the Dawson City Golf course.

A Little More on Allen

Beverly Allen is not included in most stories of Hollywood animal stars and their trainers, and perhaps the fact that he didn’t return to Los Angeles after World War II partially explains the situation.  But Allen’s story is a good one.

He was born in Mississippi, and his mother died when he was six. His father struggled to raise five children, so it became clear to Beverly that when he was old enough, he should leave to make his own way.

When he was 14 or 15, he traveled West. It was the 1930s, and like everywhere else, the Depression affected the Los Angeles area. Allen needed a job, so he used the small amount of cash he had to buy a classified ad in the newspaper offering his willingness to work.

German immigrant Carl Spitz, who established the Hollywood Dog Training School in 1927, responded to the ad, asking: “Are you afraid of dogs?” Allen wasn’t, and so he made his way to the Laurel Canyon area where the original kennel was located.

Allen’s Real Name

The fellow whom Spitz hired was actually named Bobby Lee Allen, but between Bobby Lee’s Southern drawl, and Spitz’s German accent, Allen was called Beverly from the first day of work, and he never changed back.

Because he was still so young, he was given a room in the Spitz home and ate with the family…they were all friends. While Allen did kennel upkeep, etc, Spitz also trained him for working with the animals—first working with people’s pets and then moving on to dogs for film.

With one of the first clients he took on, Allen had the dog demonstrating his knowledge of commands for the owners, when to his embarrassment, the dog ran off. Spitz was right there with Allen and said: “You are either going to be good or no good at all. Go get that dog!”

Allen proved to be quite good. When he was assigned to train a Great Dane for a period film, the director asked him how many rehearsals he would need on set for an action shot involving the Great Dane jumping into a carriage for a rescue.

Allen’s answer? “Just one.”

And indeed, the dog performed flawlessly.

After the war, Allen married and ran the kennel in Royal Oak for a number of years.  After his stint with Sergeant Preston and the television show, he returned to Detroit and took a job with Ford Motor Company. The Allens had no children and never had pets of their own.

Home for King

As for King, he found a good home.  One of the Hollywood producers of the show, Jack Wrather, who also produced Lassie and The Lone Ranger, adopted King as a family pet, and King lived comfortably into old age.

***

I would love for Beverly Allen’s family to know that he has been remembered. The last article I found about him was dated 2002, and it stated that he lived in the “northeast section of Detroit.”  He and his wife did not have children, but surely, there are still family and friends in the area who would enjoy this article. If you know how to reach them, would you forward them the article or let me know?

While full episodes of Sergeant Preston of the Yukon are posted online, this clip by Robert Marshall is an excellent summation of the show:
(Marshall has done similar things for other classic shows. Check his youtube channel.)