For decades, Horn & Hardart’s Automats served as a singular social crossroads within the urban fabric of New York and Philadelphia. It was a regional restaurant business beloved by the locals who frequented it, yet mythologized by a national media that saw the restaurants as unique and powerful social equalizers. Any customer who had a nickel could come in and enjoy a cup of coffee or a piece of pie. 

After a humble start with a single lunchroom in Philadelphia in 1888, Joe Horn and Frank Hardart went on to build a chain of restaurants that featured quality food at affordable prices.  To Frank Hardart’s great pride, they also served a French drip coffee that Hardart had long dreamed of introducing nationwide.  Hardart’s New Orleans brew was a great improvement over the boiled coffee that was the staple of most American restaurants. 

How They Grew

Both Joe Horn and Frank Hardart dreamed of running their own restaurants. When they initially teamed up and began with a small lunchroom, they were perfectly happy. After that beginning, they envisioned success as a chain of Philadelphia lunchrooms for working people.

But then a call from a European restaurant equipment salesman changed everything.  The fellow was representing a company that made an ornate brass-trimmed wall of glass that partitioned a restaurant’s front of the house from the kitchen. The partition featured small windows showing actual dishes that could be purchased (a sandwich, pie, macaroni and cheese).

The system worked like a vending machine. The customer inserted a coin in the slot by the dish he or she wanted. The coin triggered the opening of the small door, and the customer could reach in and remove the plate and take to the table. Behind the scenes much work was involved with making this happen, but to a customer it seemed magical—automatic.  The restaurants became known as “The Automat.”

It was clever; it was unique; and it meant that (almost) no waiters were needed.

The memory of Horn & Hardart’s Automat lies in the great coffee, good comfort food, and the pseudo-technology of waiter-less restaurants. But the true wonder of the restaurant chain begins with the two men who founded it.

The Men: Joe Horn and Frank Hardart

Joe Horn (1861-1941) was born into a big family in Philadelphia. His father died while Joe was young, leaving the children’s mother to manage the family’s successful surgical supply business.

Catharine Horn wanted her sons to go into their own businesses, but her grounding was in manufacturing. When Joe asked his mother to stake him in a restaurant, she responded with a firm no. She wanted him focused on a business that seemed more reliable than food service. Instead, she sent him to California (and eventually Boston) to look for other ideas.

But Joe was deeply interested in food. No matter where he went, all he could talk about afterward were the fascinating restaurants he visited. Horn found his greatest inspiration at Thompson’s Spa in Boston. He admired how the simple restaurant served quality food to working people quickly—a model he aspired to replicate.

His mother finally believed him, giving him $1000 in seed money. He was elated, but he was wise. His travels showed him that there was a lot he still didn’t know—he didn’t want to make a mistake.

Elsewhere: Frank Hardart

About 1200 miles away in New Orleans, another fellow was wrestling with his plans for the future. Frank Hardart’s family emigrated from Bavaria when Frank was 8. They had no money, so when the ship docked in New Orleans, they stayed.

By the time he was 13, Frank Hardart (1850-1918) was washing dishes in a small restaurant in the French Quarter. Because the owner was rarely there, Frank also cooked, served, and closed up at night. It was a big job with little pay ($3 per week). Frank soon realized it was the best education he could have ever gotten.

Loved the Coffee

As Frank learned the business, he saw that New Orleans residents, from upper-class families to the working class, shared a deep devotion to their coffee. The city’s preferred method was the French drip, where hot water was poured over freshly ground beans held in a cloth bag. This produced a smooth, aromatic cup of coffee that stood in sharp contrast to the bitter “boiled coffee” common in the rest of America. That process often scorched the grounds or reused them until they were tasteless.

Hardart experimented constantly with different beans and grind levels, but he never strayed from the New Orleans method. By the time he was twenty, he had worked in several restaurants and gained a solid understanding of the industry, yet his true obsession remained the coffee. He was convinced that Americans would love this better coffee if they just knew about it.

Centennial Exposition

In the 19th century, people in Europe and the United States loved attending expositions (also called World’s Fairs) with displays from all over the world. For the public, it was an opportunity to learn about different countries at a time when few people could afford to travel. For vendors, it was the perfect showcase for their products.

Frank Hardart aspired to attend Philadelphia’s Centennial Exposition in 1876. The trip would be expensive for him, but he wanted to see whether he could make any connections for selling his drip coffee. 

Unfortunately, Hardart had no luck with his offering. He loved the energy of Philadelphia and was fascinated by all the items displayed at the exposition, but he went home with no buyers. 

After returning to New Orleans, Frank took another restaurant job and married. Soon, he and his wife were raising a young child. Despite these new roots, Frank convinced his wife that their future lay in Philadelphia, where he could finally realize his dream of introducing his superior coffee in a major city.

Philidelphia Restaurant World

By 1888, both future partners were living in Philadelphia, but they had not yet met.

 Frank Hardart arrived early in 1888 and took up residence in a rooming house. (His family followed a bit later.) Hardart took a job in a local restaurant, but he still wanted a way to introduce his coffee.

Joe Horn now had the financial backing of his mother, but he was cautious. He knew the stakes were high, and he didn’t want to goof up at this stage. Horn decided to advertise for a partner, specifying in the ad that the person he was looking for “should be someone who knew and loved the nuts and bolts of the restaurant business.”

To Horn’s disappointment, his advertisement received no response. Then two weeks later, an envelope arrived from a local rooming house. Inside was a note scrawled on the torn-off top of a sugar bag: “I’m your man!” It was signed F. Hardart.

While the presentation wasn’t exactly promising, it offered possibility. The two men met and agreed their goals could align. On the strength of a simple handshake, Joe Horn, 27, and Frank Hardart, 38, became partners.

Their first weeks together involved a street-by-street search of downtown Philadelphia. They found a tiny, 11-by-17-foot lunchroom at 39 South 13th Street, directly opposite Wanamaker’s Department Store. That would be their first location.

First Horn and Hardart Restaurant

On December 22, 1888, the first Horn & Hardart restaurant opened. There were no tables—just a long counter, and 15 stools.  The two men worked with pride. It was the beginning of their plan to serve good food for the working class.

On opening day, Joe Horn took the front of the restaurant while Frank Hardart was in the kitchen, cooking the food and preparing his special coffee.

Later in the week, people stopped in saying, “You have the best cup of coffee in town!” Soon enough, they had lines around the corner at lunchtime.

Adding new restaurants was the next priority.  They began picking up land or renting space in old buildings where they could establish new lunchrooms.

Sales Call Changes Plan

In the early 1900s, a European salesman heard about the duo that was setting up lunchrooms in Philadelphia and paid them a call. He wanted to introduce Joe Horn & Frank Hardart to a restaurant feature that was becoming popular in Europe.

The device was a mechanized partition that created a “waiter-less” restaurant. The mechanism wasn’t a machine in the modern sense—there were no motors or electrical belts, but it was interesting. The salesman presented them with drawings of the “machine,” which depicted a brass and nickel divider with many small compartments with glass doors. When a customer inserted a coin (or a token), the door popped open and a prepared dish could be removed.  While staff had to monitor and maintain the food in each slot, the customers could serve themselves. To restaurant patrons, it seemed instant and “automatic.”

Both Horn and Hardart were intrigued, but this would mean a huge investment. Frank Hardart worked out plans for a trip to Europe to see exactly how these things worked.

The European Version

The highly ornate devices used in Europe were beautiful and reduced staffing needs in the dining room, but for the kitchen staff, the work was about the same—only it had to be done faster. In the original European models, the glass compartments displayed only inedible samples rather than actual portions of food.

When a customer inserted the first coin, a bell rang to alert the kitchen staff as to the dish that needed to be readied. A few minutes later, the dish was available. Many kitchens were located on the floor below, so the food was brought up by a dumbwaiter, and the employee tending the back of the partition made it available to the customer.

As the system progressed, restaurant owners began to place simpler dishes (a cold sandwich or a piece of pie) directly into a compartment. That way customers could immediately access those selections. But in general, the European model was just a first step in what eventually was to become a more “automated” model.

Making the Evaluation

On his trip to Europe, Frank Hardart liked the new open feeling of the restaurant’s dining room. The primary person in the front of the house was a cashier who sat in a glass-enclosed box and made change for customers. No maitre’d was present.

Hardart saw that the customer-facing operation seemed smooth, but he noted how hard the employees in the kitchen worked to carry out the process. The staff had to keep close tabs on all the windowed compartments to assess which dishes were needed. Then the cooks needed to work quickly to live up to the idea that the food was available “automatically.” 

Overall, Hardart liked the concept and felt there were ways they could modify it for a Philadelphia restaurant. After consulting with Joe Horn, they decided to invest the $30,000 and have a unit sent to the United States.

The mechanized partitions were not easy to make, so after the order was placed Horn and Hardart knew it would take a full year for delivery. That gave them time to plan out what would be a new style of restaurant. 

Thinking Through Their Needs

Both Joe Horn and Frank Hardart believed in a refined atmosphere for regular customers. As they made their plans, they aspired to make their new restaurant elegant. They believed that high-quality food and beautiful architecture should belong to everyone, regardless of what was in any customer’s wallet.

Their lunchrooms had done well, so they could afford to furnish the restaurant nicely. They envisioned marble-topped tables and wooden chairs. Some tables would be eight-top for communal dining. Others would be for smaller group seatings.  

They also saw changes in the population in the city. Women were entering the work force as clerks, stenographers, and secretaries. They wanted a safe place to get a quick lunch that was efficient and made them feel respected. 

Their staffing needs would be different too. No maitre’d or waiters would be there, but every restaurant would need “nickel throwers”—women who could quickly knock off nickels from a roll of coins so that customers would quicky have in hand the coins they needed for the Automat.

The men saw from the European locations that black uniforms with gloves were the best choice. On both sides of the Atlantic, coins were dirty. Without gloves, the women’s hands were soon tinged with gray. 

As customers entered the restaurant and picked up their needed coins, they were free to sit wherever they wanted. A business executive who popped in for a bowl of soup might find himself at the same table as a secretary finishing a cup of coffee.  Everyone was equal.

Dispensing Drinks

The partners saw, too, that beverages also needed to be served from the vending wall. They knew from the start that they would need dedicated coin-operated dispensers for milk, tea, and coffee. By automating the drinks, they eliminated the need for waitstaff to weave through the dining room with heavy trays.

Initially the drink dispensers were simple and efficient. But on a scouting trip to Europe several years later, Joe Horn, became transfixed by the ornate fountains of Florence. He commissioned silver dolphin-head spouts for all the drink dispensers. These soon became an iconic part of the chain.

Waiting for Delivery

The partners were elated to hear that their partition was finally complete and en route to Liverpool to be sent by ship to America. However, their excitement was short-lived. Shortly after leaving port, the vessel carrying their order collided with another ship in a dense fog off the English coast and sank.

The entire shipment was lost to the bottom of the sea. Nothing was ever retrieved; While the equipment was insured, the disaster forced Horn and Hardart to wait another full year for a replacement set to be manufactured and shipped

The House that Nickels Built

Another year passed before Horn and Hardart could finally open their new restaurant.  Finally, the first Automat in the United States was established at 818 Chestnut Street in Philadelphia. 

When the first customers arrived, they were amazed by the operation. If they wanted a piece of pie or a sandwich, then they dropped their nickel in the appropriate slot and turned the knob. When the door opened, they retrieved their desired dish. 

With hot food, the process was a little different.  A bell signaled to the kitchen staff that a customer wanted a hot dish—beef stew or macaroni and cheese, for example. The cooks heated up the dish and then it up to dining floor via a dumbwaiter. 

It was “slow” fast food, but for Philadelphians in 1902, watching their meal ascend from the basement was the height of technological magic.

More Automats

With the success of the first Automat in Philadelphia, Horn & Hardart opened a second one on Juniper Street. A third and fourth soon followed. During this time, Hardart continued to order the “wall of windows” from Europe, but they were at work on a new plan with their chief engineer, John Fritsche.

Fritsche was deeply involved in setting up each restaurant, and soon he was willing to take on the task of building a made-to-order wall for Horn & Hardart. The new design was more American—less ornate. It was made from glass and chrome and looked sleeker, more in keeping with America. Instead of the more ornate and heavier European look, Fritcsche used Carrara glass (milk glass), polished brass, and eventually chrome. The look was bright and sanitary. It was a perfect look for the day as Americans were beginning to worry more about food and cleanliness.

He also made the mechanics more workable.   He patented a knob system that could be twisted by the customer and the door sprang open. The sandwich or piece of cake was easily within reach. He also added a rotating metal drum that made it “automatic” for food to be replaced. A worker on the other side of the wall could simply rotate a fresh plate into the empty slot. This allowed the “wall of windows” to stay constantly full, creating the illusion of a self-replenishing machine that never ran out of food.

Expanding to New York City

The pace of New York City with city dwellers traveling all over town and commuters making their way in and out of the train stations offered an environment that Horn and Hardart couldn’t resist. 

The first property they established was at 1557 Broadway (46^th Street) right in the heart of Times Square. As they undertook construction for this location, they spared no expense. They hired an artist to install a two-story stained glass surround to the main door, and the marble-topped tables and glass compartments trimmed with chrome were everything they could have dreamed of.   

With the opening of that restaurant in 1912, Horn & Hardart became a regional chain.

Continued Focus on Quality

While Frank Hardart maintained high coffee standards, Joe Horn felt the same way about the food. He wanted it to be consistently excellent throughout he restaurants in both cities.

Joe Horn assembled a 200-page manual to be used by all the restaurants. It covered everything from how to clean the coffee dispenser to how to prepare each dish. Instructions on how to monitor the food to be served was also important. Coffee dispensers were to be refreshed every 20 minutes and soup was never to be left uncovered. (If the soup had a lid, then the steam continued to recirculate and the salt and the flavoring remained consistent.)

With his eye on quality, Horn hired a master chef. Francis J. Bourdon had been trained at Cordon Bleu, but he was perfectly happy to have regular employment and to create good-tasting comfort food for working people.

Horn and Hardart Central Kitchen

Joe Horn also determined that each city needed a central kitchen from which to operate. If food was prepared in one place in large batches, the executives could check quality central location before the offerings were sent out to each location. The New York kitchen was at 50^th and 11^th Avenue, and Philadelphia’s central spot was near 10^th and Locust. 

Each day Horn and the top executives in Philadelphia and New York would gather at the “sample” table in their commissary kitchen. Each dish would be sampled, and if anything was even the slightest bit off, Horn was perfectly willing to trash the whole batch. After everything was approved, the containers of food were loaded on trucks and sent off to the various Automats.

Expansion Continued

By 1932, New York City had 42 Automat-cafeterias, and Philadelphia had 46 properties. About half of the restaurants in Philadelphia were lunchrooms. The rest were Automats.

As they watch the population needs change, Horn and Hardart also decided to sell prepared food from free standing retail stores. Their advertising slogan for these operations was “Less Work for Mother.”  She could heat up the food at home, but she didn’t have to prepare it.

Joe Horn Focused on Community

While Horn & Hardart worked their people hard, they also kept their eyes on what the staff needed. During the Depression, Horn & Hardart made certain that all staff members were fed at least one meal. 

Joe Horn had no family, so he treated the workers as extended family. He made sure they had disability insurance  and set up a loan program for people in need.  

How Horn and Hardart Became Part of Popular Culture

 How did a regional cafeteria concept become an enduring icon of American dining? The answer lies not in the “wall of windows,” but in the chain’s locations—they were in the heart of two important cities. Philadelphia was becoming the capital of the music business (Gamble and Huff and the Philly Sound), and New York was where the theater world thrived. 

While businesspeople, clerks, and secretaries were very much a part of the customer base, so were writers, composers, and actors. These people helped turn the Automat into a setting for a film, a scene for a Broadway show, or the subject of a song sung by the latest singer in vogue.  The most famous song specifically about the coffee (and pie) at the Automat is “Let’s Have Another Cup of Coffee,” written by the legendary Irving Berlin.

In the meantime, the New York Automats had Gene Kelly, Irving Berlin, Jimmy Stewart, Walter Winchell, Beverly Sills, Anne Bancroft, Dorothy Parker, Helen Gurley Brown, and Woody Allen coming in and out. Many weren’t luminaries at the time they first visited, but they rose to fame. As their careers progressed, they shared memories of the Automat, increasing its reputation and standing

To people in rural locations, the fact that movies were frequently set in the Automats, made it an iconic part of New York City. If you were coming in to see the Empire State Building, you just had to have a meal at the Automat.

Nearing the End

Automats remained popular into the 1960s, but the restaurants began to show their age as the popularity of true fast-food restaurants grew. At Horn & Hardart, the next generation of family stepped in with William Curtis, Joe Horn’s nephew, taking over.    

The new board saw that as office workers scurried for trains and buses to take them to the suburbs, the center-city business model was losing its restaurant magic.  The company tried setting up an Automat or two in shopping malls, but no one wanted comfort food if they could get a hamburger and fries.

Since Horn & Hardart had been taken public in 1960, there was added pressure to deliver shareholder value.  By the 1970s, Horn & Hardart prepared to pivot. They knew they had great value in real estate, so they secured franchise rights. They began gutting their own legendary Art Deco dining rooms to convert them into Burger Kings.

The business that was built on the personal integrity of Joe Horn and Frank Hardart was eventually dismantled. Horn & Hardart effectively stopped being a “restaurant business” and became a franchise holding company. 

In 1991, the very last Horn & Hardart Automat, located at 200 East 42nd Street in New York City, shut down, ending a nearly 90-year run of the regional chain. The ultimate irony of the Automat’s demise is that it wasn’t just defeated by modern fast food; it was consumed by it.

***

H and H Classic Baked Macaroni and Cheese

Horn & Hardart was known for its comfort food. What could be better than reprinting their recipe for Macaroni and Cheese?

(Yields 4 to 6 servings)

Ingredients:

• 1/2 lb. small elbow macaroni
• 1 1/2 Tbsp. unsalted butter (plus extra for greasing the baking dish)
• 1 1/2 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 cups whole milk
• 2 Tbsp. light cream (or half-and-half)
• 1 1/2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, freshly grated (avoid pre-shredded, as it won’t melt as smoothly)
• 1/2 cup canned diced or crushed tomatoes (drained slightly)
• 1/2 tsp. sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• A dash of white pepper
• A dash of cayenne pepper

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 400°F and generously butter a shallow casserole or 8×8-inch baking dish.
2. Cook the elbow macaroni in salted water according to the package directions until just al dente. Drain well and set aside.
3. In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the butter over low heat. Whisk in the flour, salt, white pepper, and cayenne. Cook for about 1 to 2 minutes, stirring constantly to form a smooth paste and eliminate the raw flour taste.
4. Gradually pour in the milk and light cream, whisking continuously. Raise the heat slightly to medium-low and bring it to a gentle simmer. Keep whisking for about 5 minutes until the sauce becomes thick, smooth, and coats the back of a spoon.
5. Remove the saucepan entirely from the heat. Add the grated cheddar cheese, stirring constantly until it is completely melted and the sauce is velvety.
6. In a small bowl, stir the sugar into the canned tomatoes. Gently fold this tomato mixture into your warm cheese sauce.
7. Fold the cooked macaroni into the cheese sauce, ensuring every noodle is perfectly coated. Pour the mixture into your prepared baking dish. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the edges are bubbling aggressively and the top develops a beautiful golden-brown crust.

Matthew Henson (1866–1955) was the ultimate American explorer—brave, skilled, and unbreakable. For decades, however, history relegated him to the shadows because he was Black.

Hired originally as a personal valet by well-known explorer Robert Peary, Henson proved to be far more than a servant. He was the critical asset that made Peary’s obsession with the North Pole possible. Yet, in 1909, when Peary and Henson reached what was determined to be the North Pole, Peary was hailed as a hero. Henson, the African American who actually reached the point first, was largely ignored.

Only much later was he recognized for his achievements.

Matthew Henson: The Early Years

Mathew Henson was born in Charles County, Maryland, in 1866 to freeborn Black sharecroppers. His father took the family to Washington, D.C. in search of better job opportunities. However, before the family could settle in, both parents passed away.  The children were left in the care of relatives.

At age 11, Matthew ran away and found work as a cabin boy on a ship. The captain saw that he was a bright boy. He helped him improve his reading, taught him navigation skills, and familiarized Henson with all aspects of running a ship. The captain died when Henson was 18. With the loss of his mentor, Henson returned to Washington, D.C. and accepted a job as a salesclerk for a furrier.

Henson became a favorite of the store owner, and one day when Robert Peary, then a civil engineer for the U.S. Navy, came in to purchase items for a future trip to the jungles of Nicaragua, the store owner suggested Peary hire Henson as his valet. The owner knew that Henson would bring many skills to the work Peary expected to do.

Became a Team

For the first four years of their 22 years together, they struggled with the challenges of the jungles of the Southern hemisphere. Then when Robert Peary committed to an Arctic exploration (Greenland), they needed to hone new skills.

As they worked together, they developed a pattern. While Peary focused on logistics and plans, Henson mastered the day-to-day reality of Arctic survival. He became fluent in the Inuit language, earning the trust of the local guides who affectionately called him Maripaluk (“Matthew the Kind One”).

Henson also became the team’s master craftsman, building the sledges himself using Inuit techniques that could withstand the brutal terrain. From training the dog teams to building igloos for shelter in sub-zero temperatures, Henson possessed a unique combination of technical skill and physical endurance. His knowledge and his ease with the dogs also made him the best person to move forward to break the trails.

Greenland

In the 1890s, explorers were obsessed with reaching the North Pole, and Greenland was considered both the Arctic gateway and the bootcamp for Arctic travel.

In 1891 Peary was ready to take on this first challenge with an exploration of Greenland.  But Peary and Henson had never experienced Arctic ice, and it was much more difficult to navigate. Arctic sea ice is unexpected in every way, shifting from towering, jagged pressure ridges that have been built up over years to crevices that drop into deadly rivers of black water.

As their ship rammed along the coastline trying to break through the ice, a massive chunk of ice struck the ship’s rudder. The force of the ice spun the heavy iron tiller (steering lever) onto the deck, pinning Pary against the wheelhouse and causing him to break his leg.

Many thought they should return home. Eventually part of the group departed, but Peary and Henson remained until 1893. During that time, Henson continued to hone his skills since much of the time, Henson was bedridden.

A few years later their return, Peary mounted another expedition to Greenland to go further north to chart the ice cap. That trip was ill-fated as well. It was a large group, and they ran out of food and supplies and had to resort to eating their sled dogs to survive.

The North Pole: Only 174 Miles Away

After their first effort to reach the North Pole failed, they tried again in 1902. During this expedition, six Eskimos hired to accompany them died from starvation. Again, they had to turn around.

In 1906, Peary and Henson came forward with renewed energy. Peary had been able to give input on the design of the S.S. Theodore Roosevelt that was intended to be an ice cutter. However, the ship was no match for the Arctic ice.  They reached a point farther than they ever had—only 174 miles from the Pole, but they could go no further.

Peary and Henson left the ship to sledge forward on their own (sledging in the Arctic describes going by foot, but men are compelled to push, pull, and drag their sledges, as the sledges have all their provisions). They were halted by a huge black river that was miles wide. They eventually found their way back to The Roosevelt.  The “174-mile heartbreak” trip was a huge disappointment.

Final Attempt in 1908-09: Racing the Sun

In 1908, Robert Peary and Matthew Henson were getting older. Peary was 52 and Henson was 42. They had been close to death several times, and they knew the brutal temperatures and difficult conditions would be even more challenging. What’s more, there could be no “next time.” They were simply too old.

The S.S. Roosevelt spent a year in a New York shipyard being rebuilt and repaired. Finally, on a scorching hot day in July of 1908, it was ready to go. Peary and Henson left with 24 men, 19 sledges, and 133 dogs.

As they had before, they took the ice cutter as far as possible. Then Peary and Henson left with sledges. They were going to cover this last leg of their trip with four Eskimos and 40 dogs. Henson was expected to break the trail. Peary followed behind in a sledge as he was suffering seriously from frostbite.

They took the position needed for the final push and waited out the Polar Night (January and early February) in their chosen location. When Henson started out in late February, they had a full moon that reflected off the white snow, providing enough silvery light to navigate. As twilight arrived (early March), they pushed further north, journeying on.

By April 6 when they arrived at what was deemed the North Pole, the sun was peeking above the horizon. As Henson traveled, breaking the trail, he feared he overshot the mark and tracked back, running into Peary’s group at that time.

As the two together moved forward, calculating carefully where the Pole must be, they found Henson’s footprints.  Unknowingly, he had actually reached the Pole by himself. Initially, no one really addressed the matter. They planted the flag, took photos and measurements to prove their achievement and bedded down for the night.

The Return Trip

They knew they had to race back to the ship to avoid the spring melt. While Arctic ice does not usually fully melt, it does open and shift in unexpected ways, and it’s a dangerous time for exploring.

Throughout their expeditions, Peary and Henson had a custom. When they were ready to leave each morning, Henson or Peary would rap on the ice outside the tent where the other slept. That morning, Robert Peary got up and departed alone. Relations were cold between the two men for the remainder of the trip.

Meanwhile Back in the States

When they returned to the United States, the news did not get any better. Frederick Cook, an explorer who had been on one of the Greenland missions with them, claimed he reached the North Pole a year ahead of them—1908. (While exploring in the arctic, no groups ever received news from elsewhere. Access was too limited.)

Peary was devastated and angry. Cook had already begun making speeches and accepting awards. The general feeling was that Peary had missed out, so he began talking to those who were said to have accompanied Cook on the trip. As he listened to their stories, Peary became suspicious. Perhaps Cook had not actually reached the North Pole.

Robert Peary got in touch with the National Geographic Society and asked that they undertake an investigation. Eventually, Cook’s claim was exposed as a hoax.

Peary Was Recognized; Henson Was Not

While Peary was celebrated with parades and special events, Matthew Henson spent the next several decades working as a clerk in a federal customs house. His role in history was largely erased, though in 1909, a group called the Colored Citizens of New York sponsored a dinner in his honor and presented him with a gold watch.

In his free time, Henson decided to write about his experience. In 1912,  A Negro Explorer at the North Pole  was published  (available online today at no charge through Project Gutenberg). The book expanded public knowledge of Arctic travel as he explained so much about what each journey entailed. From the book, we learn a great deal about the expedition, the Inuit people, and about both Peary and Henson—a remarkable add-on to an extraordinary career.

Peary provided a foreword for the book, though he seemed to use the space to cement his own legacy as the expedition’s mastermind rather than sharing the ultimate glory with the man who actually led the way.

Henson Acknowledgment Comes Slowly

Acknowledgment of Henson began to funnel in slowly. Until Peary’s death in 1920, Peary controlled the story, so there could be only one hero. After he died, other explorers who knew Henson and knew what the expedition entailed, began to step forward. In 1937, the prestigious Explorers Club invited Henson to become a member, and in 1948 the Explorers Club made him an “Honorary member,” a designation given to no more than 20 living members at a time.

In 1944, Congress awarded him a duplicate of the silver medal given to the rest of the Peary expedition. Ten years later, President Dwight D. Eisenhower welcomed him to the White House.

Just before his death in 1955, he was given an honorary doctoral degree from Howard University and Morgan State University.

Since that time, a survey ship has been named in his honor, and the National Geographic Society awarded Henson the Hubbard Medal to Henson posthumously. There have also been streets and schools and centers named for him.

Final Honor for Matthew Henson: Arlington Cemetery

When Robert Peary died in 1920, he received a burial befitting a hero. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. When Henson died in 1955, he was buried simply in a family burial plot at Woodlawn Cemetery in New York.

But in the 1980s, Professor Allen Counter of Harvard undertook a fight on behalf of the man he saw as the true hero. Counter had been studying the expedition and saw clearly that an injustice had been done to Matthew Henson. Henson’s contributions were not properly acknowledged. Professor Counter got permission from Presidnet Ronald Reagan to move Henson’s remains to Arlington Cemetery to be buried near Peary.

Henson and his wife Lucy were reinterred in Arlington with a monument that notes his accomplishments. Though Henson and Lucy never had children, Henson fathered a child with an Inuit woman, and that son and his children were present for the re-burial.

On Henson’s tomb is a quote from his autobiography: “The lure of the Arctic is tugging at my heart. To me the trail is calling. The old trail. The trail that is always new.”

Today, his monument stands directly next to Robert Peary’s, showing that on the ice, they were equals.

Early American Celebrations

Though there are differences of opinion as to the exact “first people and first date,” the first Thanksgiving here is generally credited to the people of Plymouth Colony in 1621. The colonists invited the Wampanoag Indians who had been instrumental in helping the settlers. The Native Americans provided the group with some of the seeds for planting and showed them ways to successfully fish the area waters.

As time went on, the colonies celebrated the fall harvests based on their own agricultural time tables and the customs they brought from their homeland.

In 1789, George Washington was the first president to declare that there should be a Thanksgiving holiday. There was no specific date set at the time. As American life evolved, a few states set they own dates for a Thanksgiving holiday.

Establishing a Tradition

In the 1840s, a woman named Sarah J. Hale (1788-1879) took up what she felt was an important cause—establishing a National Day of Thanks. Growing up in New England, Hale had always celebrated Thanksgiving. She felt it was a holiday in which the entire nation could share despite the tensions over slavery. 

In 1822 Hale’s husband died, leaving her to raise five children. She turned to writing to support the family. She was soon asked to edit a start-up magazine based in Boston, American Ladies Magazine.

Soon after this (1836), Louis Godey hired Hale to run his very popular Godey’s Ladies Book, a very successful magazine started in 1830. Hale used the magazine as a platform to advocate for causes that were important to her, from education for women to the idea of nationalizing a day of thanks.

By 1847, Hale began publishing numerous editorials urging American presidents to nationalize the celebration of Thanksgiving. Hale’s hard work finally paid off.

In 1863, President Abraham Lincoln issued a proclamation declaring Thanksgiving to be a national holiday celebrated on the last Thursday of November.

Changing the Date?

In 1939 and 1940, President Franklin Roosevelt was looking for a way to boost the economy at a tough time. He proclaimed that Thanksgiving should be held on the third Thursday of November, a suggestion he hoped would extend the Christmas shopping season.  His idea was not well-received, however.

In 1941, Congress passed a joint resolution that Thanksgiving should fall on the fourth Thursday of November.

The Turkey

The foods associated with Thanksgiving hold special meaning because they remind us of a more natural way of life. Many are simple types of country food that could have been prepared a century ago as well as today.

Turkeys were plentiful when the colonists arrived in North America. However, there is a certain irony that turkey is the traditional main course.

Benjamin Franklin had more honorable plans for the turkey. He felt it should be our national bird. He fought forcefully against those who favored the bald eagle. According to Frankin, the eagle was of bad moral character and carried lice.

Unfortunately for Franklin and the turkey, Franklin lost the battle. If the turkey were the national bird, we would be unlikely to be eating it!

The Cranberries

Cranberries were very familiar to Native Americans who used the berries for red dye, as well as to create poultices to draw poisons from arrow wounds. The name “cranberry” came about because the pink flower of the plant bends gracefully over the stem. It reminded early people of the crane; “crane berries” became “cranberries.”

Cape Cod is the source of almost one-half of all the cranberries grown in the world.

The Focus of the Day

In addition to parades, sporting events, and a big meal, families from near and far try to gather at this time of year. Most people think of the things they are grateful for before the onslaught of winter and the December holidays.

As for sporting events, one could almost claim that this tradition dates to the early colonists. When they gathered, the Pilgrims and Native Americans were said to display their skills at shooting guns, using bows and arrows, and racing, wrestling, playing games, and dancing.

And just as many volunteers help out at shelters and soup kitchens on Thanksgiving, the day has always been viewed as a day for sharing by the fortunate to those who were less fortunate.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Harvey House business, founded by Fred Harvey in the late 19^th century, played a significant role in shaping the dining and hospitality experience for those traveling west along the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway.

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Fred Harvey’s Story

Fred Harvey (1835-1901) was a British businessman. He emigrated from England in 1853 and got a job in a kitchen as a pot scrubber. He worked his way up in the restaurant business, eventually opening two restaurants in St. Louis in the late 1850s. But the advent of the Civil War disrupted businesses, and Harvey had to close the restaurants.

Harvey then got a job as a freight agent on the Chicago Burlington & Quincy Railroad. This job necessitated a lot of train travel. The railroad lines were extending westward, and as Harvey observed the railroad stops along the way, he saw that the eateries were often inadequate for managing train passengers. They were not well located, too small, and often unclean.

Fred Harvey saw that creating decent, clean restaurants, and eventually hotels, would improve travel and turn a profit if well-managed.

He proposed his idea for a string of restaurants along the railroad to his employer, the Chicago Burlington & Quincy line. They weren’t interested. Harvey went on to the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad and suggested a partnership. They would receive a cut for all business that resulted from the Harvey-created restaurants.

From this point on, Fred Harvey turned a profit for Harvey House and the Santa Fe. He also developed many innovative ideas that changed the travel and hospitality business everywhere.

First Restaurants

The first restaurant he opened at Santa Fe stop was a 20-seat lunchroom in Topeka, Kansas, in 1876. Within two years, he established both a hotel and restaurant in Florence, Kansas. The foundation for an empire was laid. Later he was credited with establishing the first chain restaurants.

Fred Harvey saw that the trains needed to stop to refuel and load water about every 100 miles. This would be the distance between his eateries. Cooperation between Harvey House and the railroad benefited everyone.

Established Efficiency

The restaurants simplified their menus so that diners had a choice of only two main dishes, but because Fred Harvey coordinated among all the restaurants, he made certain that the restaurant at the next stop offered two different choices. Restaurants rotated their menus every four days.

 As time went by, the railroads established an efficient system. When each train was about an hour away from a meal stop at a Harvey facility, conductors went through the cars asking who preferred to eat in the dining room and who would go to the lunch room for a quick sandwich.

At the next telegraph stop, the totals were wired ahead. That way, the kitchen knew how many meals to prepare, and the waitresses in the dining room had enough tables set to take care of the diners.

The company also relied on “train spotters.” Around the time when a train was due to pull in, a train spotter would be out on the platform. Trains could generally be seen from a few miles away. When the spotter saw the train, he rang a bell, and the kitchen and wait staff all knew it was almost time for the passengers to alight—hungry and eager to stretch their legs.

Superior Staffing

After his time as a freight agent, Fred Harvey knew the importance of good service. He’d noted that many men in jobs in these small eateries were brusque and uncaring. Harvey came up with the idea of hiring young women to manage table service.

He hired and trained carefully. The women, known as the Harvey Girls, remain part of railroad lore. To read their story, click here.

Harvey Girls could also transfer locations easily. There was continuity in the restaurant set-up and the whereabouts of supplies. If a woman worked at a Harvey House in Kansas, she would find the restaurant set-up very similar if she transferred to a Harvey House in California.

Jackets Required

Those men who chose to eat in the dining room were required to wear jackets. In the West when cowboys were sometimes traveling by train, they didn’t wear jackets and weren’t thrilled by the rule. The Harvey restaurants kept an extra supply of sport coats so customers could still dine in the restaurant and abide by the rules.

Well-to-do artists and writers who came to the La Fonda (a Harvey House property until 1969) soon helped bring the jacket rule to an end. The type of people who made up a core group in Santa Fe were well-known, and the town was very laid back. At that point, the restaurant realized the importance of pleasing the clientele, and they dropped the jacket requirement.

They also permitted the Harvey Girls to wear colorful Mexican-style skirts with white tops instead of their uniforms. These cheerful uniforms added to the atmosphere.

Women Architect Comes into Her Own

Though Harvey drew gender lines for most of the restaurant jobs (female waitress, male chefs, etc.), his headquarters employed men and women, and he soon recognized that he had someone on staff with great talent.

Mary Jane Elizabeth Colter had a staff job and started helping with the interior design work for the restaurants and hotels along the railroad line. Colter relished the beauty of the Southwest and brought the colors and feeling of the surrounding geography into the work she did for Fred Harvey.

Harvey soon started using her for exterior work including the full design of new buildings. This opened new opportunities for her, and she played off the Native American architecture. Many of the hotels and restaurants in the southwest were her design, including the Bright Angel Lodge, Desert View Watchtower, Phantom Ranch, Hopi House, Hermit’s Rest, and Lookout Studio at the Grand Canyon.

Two of the best-known hotels were also hers: The La Fonda in Santa Fe and La Posada in Winslow, Arizona. The La Fonda is now run by new owners. The La Posada closed for a time, but has been newly renovated. It is now operating as part of The Historic Hotels of America.

Built Tourism in the Southwest

As Fred Harvey’s company spread throughout the Southwest, he saw that travelers wanted to learn more about the new areas through which they were traveling. To cater to demand, he bought touring cars that he called Harvey Cars, hired drivers, and trained women to be tour guides. This part of the business was headquartered in Santa Fe.

As the touring business grew, Fred Harvey also began collecting Native American and western artifacts.

Mary Jane Colter was given the coveted job of designing a building in Winslow, Arizona, where these items could be displayed so the public could see them. As travelers flocked to see the collection, Harvey saw a new business opportunity. He established “curio” shops, where tourists could buy items large and small to take home with them.

Postcards were always popular. People wanted to send friends and family pictures of what they were seeing, and this led to a partnership between Detroit Publishing and Harvey House.

Expanded to Pullman Sleeping Cars

Both Harvey House and the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe slow-walked their way to sleeping cars. The Pullman Palace Car Company was used on several rail lines in the east and Midwest as early as 1865, but since both Harvey and AT&SF profited from the hotel and restaurant partnerships, neither business was too eager to lease Pullman cars for any of its lines.

When using a Pullman car, all railroad companies were required to charge each passenger a separate fee that went directly to Pullman. This payment covered the lease of the berth-lined railroad car as well as staffing for the sleeping car.

By 1894, passenger demands were changing. Because travelers had experienced sleeping cars in the east, they wanted sleepers on their trips west. That year the Santa Fe leased its first sleeping cars. Later, they took leases on club cars and dining cars. Most of the dining cars were managed by Harvey House. Because Harvey House had a strong reputation for great good and service. The ads for the service read “Harvey Meals All the Way.”

The Harvey House Farm

For many years, Harvey House Company was headquartered in Kansas City, Missouri. As times changed, Fred Harvey saw an opportunity for an efficient—and likely cost-saving—move to Newton, Kansas. Newton had been the center of the cattle industry, but that business was slowly gravitating to Dodge City.

Harvey knew the area well as he began leasing hotel space as early as 1882. In 1900, he re-opened the Arcade Hotel after grand renovations. It became quite a show place and an important center of town.

As the cattle industry moved on, Harvey picked up parcels of land where he intended to build his new headquarters. By this time, Harvey House was a major operation with many restaurants and hotels dotting the southwest. He knew if he could consolidate his food preparation and restaurant supplies, it would make his operation more cost-efficient.

In addition, his partnership with the Santa Fe provided him with free transportation for all goods and supplies. Harvey’s plan was to establish a working plant headquarters in Newton, Kansas. He soon had a dairy and poultry farm, and an agricultural operation to grow some produce. There was also a processing plant, and a modern steam laundry to handle much of the linen and napkins used by the restaurants.

Harvey Soda Pop

The Harvey Girls served lots of soda pop, so he built a carbonation plant for bottling his own brand of Harvey soda pop. Then in 1914, Harvey received a franchise from the Coca Cola company to bottle their products in Newton. This meant that Asa Candler, the inventor of Coca Cola, could ship only the syrup. This kept his costs down. The Coca Cola sales through Harvey outlets was a huge enterprise, and the Coca Cola company came in every 6 months to test for quality.

Shipping Fresh Food and Produce

By 1884, shipping progress was coming. The Santa Fe began using some ventilated cars for carrying fruit. They also had eight cars that were cooled by ice blocks to carry dairy and meat products. Finally, refrigerated rail cars were introduced, and this part of the business multiplied quickly. The business was known as the Santa Fe Despatch (sp). The division grew quickly as there was a growing need for all types of food that required refrigeration to be shipped by rail.

By 1918, the Fred Harvey Company ran 54 lunchrooms, 37 dining rooms, and 26 hotels. The farm in Newton that supported all this was now 500 acres with 150 employees. Record for 1921, show that the company shipped 60,000 gallons of milk; 20,000 gallons of cream; half a million pounds of poultry, and many millions of eggs and 45,000 cases of soda.

“Fly By Day. Ride the Rails at Night”

Fred Harvey and the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad were also part of a grand travel experiment.  In the 1920s, people still relied on railroads for transportation, but planes were beginning to attract attention. They were carrying the mail, and some pilots accepted a couple of “hitchhiking” passengers who rode on the mail bags.

As planes became larger, there were still limitations based on light and weather. Planes needed daylight so pilots could see landmarks. Sometimes bad weather caused delay. And of course, planes could not yet carry enough fuel to fly cross country.

In 1928, financier Clement Melville Keys (1876-1952) had a new idea. He started a company called Transcontinental-Air-Transport and enlisted the help of Charles Lindbergh to create a transcontinental flight network. Keys knew the government paid well for airmail contracts. It was his plan to go after them using both planes and trains to move the mail.

Mail and Passengers

Based on the planes in use, Keys began offering passenger service as well. He worked with several different railroads to string together a route. Passengers could leave New York from Pennsylvania railroad station, traveling to Columbus, Ohio. In Columbus, they would transfer to a plane flying to Waynoka, Oklahoma, arriving in the late afternoon.

After a meal at a Harvey House restaurant, the passengers next boarded a Santa Fe train where they enjoyed sleeping car comfort arriving in Clovis, New Mexico, in the morning. After breakfast in the dining car, they disembarked from the train and transferred to another flight that flew the rest of the way to Los Angeles.

American travelers could go from the East Coast to the West Coast in 48 hours—a record for that time.  The ads for the service promised that customers could “fly by day and ride the rails at night.”

Transcontinental-Air-Transport later merged with Western Air Express to become TWA.

Business Slowdown

The Depression in the 1930’s, brought a slowdown in business across the country including a steep drop in train travel. Many Harvey House stops closed and/or staffing was reduced.

By the late 1930’s, the rumblings of war were heard, and it appeared that train service would be badly needed then, both for supplies criss-crossing the country as well as for personnel.

The soldiers and military personnel needed to be fed, so many of the Harvey locations reopened. This time there were no white tablecloths or good dishes and silver. Fred Harvey set up cafeteria-style dining to feed as many people as possible. Later on, the country began transporting prisoners to different locations within the United States, and these trains, too, stopped at Harvey House locations where big “mess tents” were set up to feed many people.

Son Continues the Business

When Fred Harvey died of intestinal cancer in 1901, he left a major business consisting of 47 restaurants, 15 hotels, and 30 dining cars that they operated on the Santa Fe in 12 states. He had two people in place who were well-prepared to take over. David Benjamin, a former bank teller that Fred Harvey admired, joined the business and moved up through management. In addition, one of his sons, Ford Harvey was also interested in the business, too. 

While Fred Harvey’s will specified that no changes were to take place immediately upon his death, Benjamin and Ford Harvey had been part of management for long enough to know the course of the business. As they observed the changes in train travel, they saw that other rail routes would be important. They opened big operations at major train hubs including Chicago, San Diego, and Los Angeles. They also moved in wherever they saw an opportunity, including the airport in Albuquerque.

Looking Forward

For many years, the Grand Canyon hotels owned by both the Santa Fe as well as Fred Harvey had continued to attract tourists and do well. When the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe needed cash in the 1950s, they sold their interest in the hotels to the Fred Harvey Company. Of those hotels the El Tovar still operates and is always full.

Fred Harvey also moved into the national parks. Parks wanted visitors, and visitors wanted food, bathrooms, and tourist shops. Fred Harvey could handle all those. They also took over the services along the Illinois Tollway and ran those for 15 years.

The Fred Harvey Company was an important part of opening and civilizing the West. His company offered job opportunities to women who would never have dreamed of creating their own lives.  In the process he helped bring to prominence the culture and beauty of the Southwest.   

The Harvey Trading Company was acquired by the Xanterra Travel Company in 1969.

**

Thanks to Alex Schneider, a railroad afficionado, who answered my questions when I couldn’t nail down answers elsewhere.

The bald eagle, a majestic and powerful bird of prey, was a common sight along the America’s eastern seaboard as early explorers arrived.

These birds primarily eat fish, waterfowl, and small mammals, so they generally live near major bodies of water throughout the continent— along the Atlantic from Labrador to the tip of south Florida, and along the Pacific from Baja California to Alaska.

Because they were frequently seen in the areas where colonists were settling, the impressive bird came to mind when the Founding Fathers were looking for symbolic ways to represent the country. 

In 1782, the bald eagle was featured on the American Seal. Two years later, the bird was also selected to be our national bird.

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Continental Congress Wanted a “Coat of Arms”

During the early 1780s, members of the Continental Congress wanted a “coat of arms” of sorts–a symbolic depiction of what the country was to stand for. They envisioned that the national seal would be used for display and to affix on treaties and other official documents.

There were many opinions about the choice of national symbol from members of the Continental Congress. Three design committees worked on possibilities. Finally, the responsibility was handed over to Philadelphian Charles Thomson (1729-1824) an Irish-born Patriot who served as secretary of the Continental Congress and was on the Great Seal Committee.

Thomson took into account the work done by two previous design committees. He also consulted scholar and Philadelphia attorney William Barton (1754-1817), who had a great deal of knowledge about the types of coats of arms used by European countries. It is thought that Barton was the individual who suggested using a bald eagle with its wings outspread as part of the design.

Benjamin Franklin objected. He felt the eagle was a bird of bad moral character, and that the wild turkey was more fitting. “It [the turkey] is a bird of courage,” according to Franklin.

Nonetheless, the bald eagle won out.

Creation of the Great Seal

After working with the designs suggested by the previous committees as well as comments from William Barton, Charles Thomson put together the final design for the Great Seal in June 1782.

The American eagle is the focal point. It depicted a bird with its wings outspread and rising. In the eagle’s right talon, Thomson placed the olive branch suggested by the second committee. The eagle was to face to the right, showing the country’s preference for peace.

In the bird’s left talon, the eagle holds a symbol of war. In this case, a bundle of thirteen arrows. 

On a scroll in the eagle’s beak, Thomson put the motto E Pluribus Unum suggested by the first committee.

In the Words of the Founders

Thomson’s own description is meaningful as it explains so much of what our Founding Fathers had in mind for the country:

“The colours of the pales are those used in the flag of the United States of America; White signifies purity and innocence, Red, hardiness & valor, and Blue, the colour of the Chief signifies vigilance, perseverance & justice. The Olive branch and arrows denote the power of peace & war which is exclusively vested in Congress. The Constellation denotes a new State taking its place and rank among other sovereign powers. The Escutcheon is born on the breast of an American Eagle without any other supporters to denote that the United States of America ought to rely on their own Virtue.”

Though we have a sketch of what the Founders had in mind, it was intended as only a guideline.

For almost 250 years now, the Great Seal of the United States has ratified international agreements of peace, cooperation, and trade. Representing the people of America, it seals our promise to other nations.

The National Bird

Two years after a seal was approved, the eagle was chosen as the national bird for its long life, great strength, and majestic looks.

If we moved forward in time to the 1960s, President John F. Kennedy stated, “The Founding Fathers made an appropriate choice when they selected the bald eagle as the emblem of the nation. The fierce beauty and proud independence of this great bird aptly symbolizes the strength and freedom of America.”

About the Bird

The bald eagle is the only eagle native to North America. The birds primarily live near water in order that their food supply is nearby. The eyesight of these birds is so good that they can spot a single fish from a mile away.

Eagles can weigh up to 15 pounds and have wing spans of about 7 feet. They mate for life and may return to the same nest year after year. Nests are generally located at the tops of trees. Because nests are added on to each year, some nests can be as large as ten feet across.

In the wild, bald eagles are thought to live to be about 30 years old. However, many do not survive to adulthood. Firstborns may do away with siblings to get rid of competition for food, and more than half of the eaglets starve to death their first winter, because they have not yet perfected their hunting skills.

As the human population expanded throughout North America, the bald eagle population decreased. Pesticides and destruction of their nesting areas were mainly to blame.

Fortunately, the bird count in Alaska has always been higher, so while that state’s bird population suffered for a time, it has rebounded more quickly. Today eagles are plentiful. Visitors can admire them as easily as if they were robins.

Protecting the Bird

The first time Congress gave legal protection to the bald eagle was in 1940 with the Bald Eagle Protection Act. The law prohibits anyone without a permit for “taking” bald eagles. “Taking” is described as removing or disturbing the birds. There are criminal penalties for possessing, bartering, or transporting a bald eagle or any part of the bird’s nest or egg.

This has put American law at odds with the cultural practices of Native American tribes. Many tribes consider eagles to be “master of the sky” and use the bald eagle or its feathers symbolically in celebrations. Tribes never killed wantonly. Most tribes had a specifically-trained tribal member who was skilled at killing the eagle or eagles needed for ceremonies.

But for reasons beyond Native Americans, the numbers of bald eagles kept dropping. In 1962, the government passed a federal statute to protect both the bald and the golden eagle.  It, too, specifies that bird parts, nests, and eggs—and the birds–are not to be molested or disturbed. However, permits can be obtained to possess the eagles parts and feathers for religious purposes and lawful activities.

Problems with Progress

In addition to considering the cultural needs of Native Americans, the government has needed to consider situations when progress has interfered with eagles and their habitats. In 2009, the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act was amended to provide for permits to relocate eagles near airports and certain utilities. 

The growth of the wind turbine movement also presented problems. Eagles sometimes fly into the turbine and are injured or killed. Companies have implemented ways to mitigate these incidents, but there is not yet a way to bring those numbers to zero. As of 2011, the US Fish and Wildlife Service added a provision for the wind energy industry to apply for “incidental take” permits to avoid penalties.

When Alaska became a state in 1959, that brought their wildlife under federal protection, and it has been needed. In the early part of the twentieth century, salmon fishermen felt eagles were interfering with the salmon catch. Bounties were offered for killing them.

Alaska

In 1973, the passage of the Endangered Species Act further solidified protection. By 1995, two decades after banning the use of DDT and other laws specifically protecting both the birds and their nesting trees, the status of the eagle was upgraded to “threatened” in the lower 48.

Off Endangered Species List

In 2007 the Interior Department took the American bald eagle off the endangered species list but the birds are still protected under both the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act.

The species has recovered dramatically and as of early 2021 (the most recent count), at least 316,000 bald eagles are believed to occur in the lower 48 states.

Automobile travel in the early 1900s was very difficult. Roads were largely unpaved, maps were few, and cars were for the very rich.

Mining heir Robert Guggenheim, 24, loved to drive, and he set out to build awareness of the excitement and convenience of automobile travel. He knew America lacked decent roadways for anything other than short drives around a town. If more people began driving, local governments would work to improve the roadways.

In 1907, he participated in a Peking to Paris auto race. He decided to sponsor a similar competition in the United States to encourage the building and improvement of roadways. 

Roads of the Day

Because there were few automobiles in the early 1900s, roads were rutted. Driving them was much like driving over a washboard.

There were very few gas stations, so gas was purchased by the canister at a general store. If a driver anticipated a lengthy drive, he purchased an extra container of gas to carry with him so he could re-fill the automobile gas tank.

Cars were of very little use in bad weather, so people still needed horses and sleighs if there was heavy rain or snow.

Few people drove beyond the few miles around their own town, so road signs and maps were almost non-existent. If a driver needed directions, he was likely to be told “go about a mile down the main road and turn right at the yellow farmhouse. The property you are looking for will be on the left in about two more miles.”

Guggenheim’s Vision

As Robert Guggenheim created his plan, he envisioned a coast-to-coast road trip. In 1909, Seattle would be the host city for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition. This world’s fair was being sponsored to encourage development of the Pacific Northwest. Half the battle of encouraging growth in these areas was getting people to visit. (The 1908 Democratic Convention in Denver was another event that exposed easterners to the world beyond the Mississippi.) 

Guggenheim announced that he would sponsor a Coast-to-Coast Auto Race, ending it in Seattle in June of 1909. The expected crowds at the Exposition would be there to enjoy the concluding ceremonies. He hoped for as many as 30 entrants. In August of ’08 The New York Times (8-23-08) noted that nine cars had already registered for the event that was scheduled for June 1909.

Controversy

Almost immediately, the race was stalled by controversy. Though automobile companies reacted positively to the first announcement, they soon heard that the Manufacturers’ Contest Association refused to sanction a “race” across the country because it seemed to promote danger.

Manufacturers were spooked by the latest accident report from 1907: 324 people were killed by automobiles that year. Car makers decided that promoting a “race” seemed to encourage risk. That would not bode well for the auto industry.

Guggenheim and other organizers pondered this for a time and came up with a new plan. They would call it the 1909 Ocean to Ocean Endurance Contest. “Enduring” seemed more responsible than “racing.”

Rules Outlined

The ground rules involved obeying all speed limits in the East. This meant traveling no faster than 14 miles per hour. After St. Louis, it was agreed that drivers could “break loose,” and the autos could travel as quickly as 18.8 m.p.h.

The rules also specified that all parts of the automobiles had to be stamped as the cars were assembled. No major components of the automobiles could be changed during the race.

By marking each part, the officials would be able to verify that the car that began the race was the same as the car that ended it. 

Automobile Entrants

The entry field was severely reduced by the “danger” controversy, and on June 1, 1909. only five vehicles appeared at the starting line in Times Square:

– Two Model Ts. This assembly-produced automobile was just introduced in 1908. For Henry Ford, this was a wonderful marketing opportunity. Ford had the foresight to keep his contest vehicles light. He stripped them of their windshields and rear seats–essentially his cars were a front seat on wheels.

– An Acme–a chain driven touring car made by a company that had formerly made bicycles.

–The Shawmut Roundabout, a luxury car made in Massachusetts. A fire destroyed the factory where it was made, and only two automobiles were saved. By entering one of them in this contest, the company hoped to revive interest in the brand so they could afford to re-open.

– Guggenheim’s own car, an Itala. The mechanics noted its operation during the Peking-to-Paris race and had some thoughts on modification.

A sixth auto made by the Stearns Company began the race five days late, but it had to pull out because of mechanical problems just outside the New York City limits.

Along the Way

Keeping an automobile functional in this era was a daunting task. The cars traveled with a relief driver, and all but the Model Ts also sent along a mechanic, putting three men on the journey for all but the Ford cars.

Because Ford was assembling a nationwide network of auto dealers, Henry Ford calculated that if the Model Ts could make it to the next town, a local mechanic could perform maintenance. This reduced the weight being carried by the Model Ts, and it gave Ford another advantage: The endurance contest drivers could get driving directions and route advice from locals. The other drivers were relying on primitive maps and whatever townspeople they met along the way.

Bridges were rare so crossing rivers was difficult. If no ferry boat was available, the autos made harrowing trips across railroad trestles.

Rough roads and mud were major problems, but again, Ford’s planning provided an advantage for the Model T. The cars were light enough that two men could lift and position a wheel onto a piece of wood to get an automobile out of the mud and on its way.

Nearing the Finish

At Snoqualmie Pass, near Seattle, one of the Model Ts got stuck in four feet of snow and had to be dug out. Perhaps because he could smell victory, Henry Ford himself arrived on the scene to help dig.

Twenty-three days later, June 23, 1909, the formerly snowbound Model T crossed the finish line and was declared the winner. Seventeen hours later, the Shawmut arrived, followed by the other Ford, and a week later, the Acme. (The Itala dropped out in Cheyenne, Wyoming.)

Henry Ford immediately launched a marketing campaign touting the fact that the lightweight, affordable Model T was the superior car.

Protest by the Shawmut Company

But the Shawmut Company had suspicions about one of the repair sessions done by a Ford dealer in the West. They entered a protest.

The officials undertook an examination of the automobiles and the race.

Five months later, the sponsors found in favor of the Shawmut Motor Company. One of the Ford dealers had swapped out the engine of the winning Model T, a direct violation of the rules.

Too Late to Matter

In November, the Shawmut was awarded the $2,000 prize for first place, but it was too late to save the company.

Ford took full advantage of the delay and achieved a lot of traction with his marketing campaign. “The $850 car that won the New York to Seattle race” brought motoring to the masses.

In 1909, 18,664 Model Ts were sold. Those figures doubled the following year and doubled again the year after. By 1916 Ford was producing half of all the motor vehicles in the world.

Contest Commemorated in 2009

In June of 2009, a commemorative race featuring 55 Model Ts started from New York City. Police escorts protected them in metropolitan areas, and every fourth day the drivers paused to rest and tune up the cars. A good time was enjoyed by all.

**

To read about a transcontinental foot race held in 1928, click here. And to watch the video version of this story, click here.