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.

Lincoln Logs were invented by John Lloyd Wright, the son of architect Frank Lloyd Wright. John did not plan to be a toy inventor. But in so many ways, creating building block toys for children—possible future architects—was a fitting destiny for a man who grew up as one of six children in Frank Lloyd Wright’s household in Oak Park, Illinois.

Early Influences

Early Influences

The Wright children (four sons and two daughters) began their education at home with their mother overseeing much of their education. Frank Lloyd Wright designed a playroom for his children and hand-picked many of the toys he felt they should have. There were all types of building blocks, and clearly, John Lloyd Wright must have had fond memories of them.

John Wright did not last long in college. He followed an older brother to the West Coast. He traveled throughout California taking whatever work was available. In about 1910, he saw a sign looking for “draftsman.” He applied and joined the architectural firm of Harrison Albright whose office was in Los Angeles at that time. This experience whetted his interest in the field.

He applied to and was accepted to an architectural school in Vienna, but he had to get in touch with his father for money to travel overseas. At that point, his father essentially said, “Meet me in Chicago in two weeks. What can Otto Wagner (architect in Vienna) teach you that I can’t?”

Working for Frank Lloyd Wright

John worked in his father’s office in Chicago for a time. His father gave him reading lists and arranged a private class to learn engineering. When Frank Lloyd Wright was commissioned to re-build the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo in 1916, father and son both traveled to Tokyo for a site visit before the plans were completed.

While there, the two men had a falling out. Frank Lloyd Wright refused to pay his son a regular salary, and John resented the piecemeal way he was being paid. By mutual agreement, John returned to the United States.

The Wright office in Illinois had a few small projects underway, so John worked on those, but in his spare time he began experimenting with making wooden toys.

He loved working with wood. He and his wife had a fondness for birds, and their home featured wooden birds as part of the décor. This provided added inspiration for the toy company John Lloyd Wright built.

Red Square Toys

His first fascination was with blocks. He knew from his time in Tokyo that one of his father’s chief concerns was creating an interlocking foundation for the hotel. Earthquakes were common in Japan, and the new building needed to withstand these possible pressures.

For John, there was also a meaningful lesson from his hours in the family playroom. With six children thundering through the space, block towers were often knocked over. What if he created interlocking blocks? (Though it is not documented, the Wright children may have played with a log cabin building set from a toy company in Vermont Ellis, Britton, and Eaton. The toys dated to the 1860s when log cabins would have been common.)

At any rate, John Wright proceeded with his work on what he eventually called Lincoln Logs. The early ads stressed that children could build something like Uncle Tom’s cabin, or Abraham Lincoln’s childhood home.

Toy Cabin Patent

In 1918 he applied for a patent (and received in 1920, Patent 1.351,086) for a “Toy Cabin Construction” set. His patent specified “This invention relates to improvements in toys and more particularly to education l toys calculated to develop a child’s constructive inclinations.”

Red Square Toys were greeted well by Chicago’s major department store, Marshall Field. With that first big sale in place, Red Square Toys could expand. The company created other wooden toy animals, chess pieces, and jig saw puzzles featuring birds.

In 1933 he patented another type of building block—the kind that would have permitted children to build more complex structures like castles, but the Wright Blocks never caught on.

Lincoln Logs Survive War Rationing

During World War II, many types of unnecessary manufacturing businesses were halted. For example, the metal used for toy erector sets was needed for the war cause, so erector set toys could not be made. But wood was not rationed. For that reason, John Lloyd Wright could keep his business going throughout the early1940s. But by 1943 he was ready for a change. He sold the patent for Lincoln Logs to Playskool.

Lincoln Logs were popular throughout the 1950s, and they were one of the first toys to be promoted on a television show, Pioneer Playhouse (1953).

Lincoln Logs and Wright

In 2014, Lincoln Logs were acquired by K’NEX Industries, but by 2017, the company was bankrupt. However, the company was salvaged by Basic Fun, Inc. They now make Lincoln Logs, and manufacturing of the toy is done in the U.S.

Lincoln Logs were inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame in 1999.

John Lloyd Wright continued to work in architecture. He settled in Delmar, California, and his architecture style was reminiscent of the Prairie School of Design.

Here’s another story about a child and Frank Lloyd Wright. Frank Lloyd Wright’s Inspiration for a Doghouse.

Miniature golf was first patented by Garnet Carter (1883-1954) in 1931. Carter owned a hotel called the Fairyland Inn on Lookout Mountain (Georgia) near Chattanooga, Tennessee.

The construction of the 18-hole golf course for the hotel was moving along slowly, so Carter asked the builder to create a miniature golf course for the guests so they would have entertainment until the regular course was fully built. Guests loved it!

Because the miniature golf course was such a hit, Garnet Carter started the Tom Thumb Golf Company. He built miniature courses throughout the south and sold northern building rights to another company. Carter’s wife did most of the design work, and many courses were done in a Fairyland theme.

Early Improvement Needed

With the popularity of the small course, Carter saw that all the foot traffic prevented grass from growing. He looked for a solution and found a fellow in Mexico who made “fake grass” from recycled cottonseed hulls that were processed and painted green. The fellow sold Carter full rights to the product for $65,000. It was a lot of money for the time, but when one considers how many locations Garnet Carter found to use it, it was a bargain.

After a few years, the Depression caused a downturn in growth of new courses, and Carter sold out of the Tom Thumb Company. He used the money to create Rock City, a tourist destination on Lookout Mountain that is still very popular.

Not the First Course

Though Garnet Carter owned the first patent for the game, the first course thought to have been created in the U.S. was in Pinehurst, North Carolina in 1916.

James Barber owned the Barber Steamship Lines that sailed in and out of New York City. Like other wealthy New York businessmen, he owned vacation property elsewhere. As an avid golfer, Barber chose to build in Pinehurst where the weather generally was conducive to many months of golf. The North Carolina estate he built is known as Thistle Dhu (This’ll do).

Perhaps because he assigned his garden design to another golfer, the two decided it would be great fun to build a small golf course within the garden.

The course was never open to the public, but the Barbers frequently entertained guests. Photographs of people playing on the miniature golf course were printed in North Carolina magazines, and the idea spread.

Miniature Golf In New York City

Somewhat surprisingly, Manhattan is among the places that miniature golf took off in its early years (1920s). Courses were built on rooftops and were designed for the post-theater crowd who stopped off for drinks before calling it a night. It was not unusual to see people in tuxedoes and gowns after coming from the opera or a formal dinner.

By the early ‘30s, there were 150 rooftop courses in the city.

Popularity Soars

Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford must have played the game while in New York. They returned to Los Angeles and opened a Tom Thumb golf course in Hollywood. Unfortunately, their business plan back-fired.

The game was so popular that the movie studios felt threatened by this new form of entertainment. Attorneys for the film companies added clauses to contracts with stars stating that they could not be filmed playing miniature golf.  It was considered big competition to movie-going.

Wanamaker’s Department store was delighted to sell and promote clothing for the “miniature” game. They carried a new line of Tom Thumb fashions and advertised: “When you’re Lilli-putting on the Miniature Golf Course, Remember your Clothes Technique!”

Miniature Golf Popularity Declines

The Depression affected people’s ability to pay for leisure activities, but miniature golf was a game that could be fashioned in backyards using pipes, wood, and other substances to create obstacles.

However, the popularity of the game died out after the ‘30s, but in the 1950s and ‘60s, it returned as a popular suburban activity for families.

New Twist on the Game

When Scranton, Pennsylvania native Ralph Lomma returned from World War II, he was taken by the amusement parks that offered miniature golf. He and his brother Al formed Lomma Enterprises with big plans for the small game.

In order to expand the sales potential, the Lomma brothers created a pre-fabricated course. A motivated business owner could buy the parts and get his own golf course up and going within a couple of days. Those customers that wanted full-service could hire Lomma Enterprises to set up the whole game.

Lomma also put extra fun in the game. They come up with whimsical features like the giant windmill, the drawbridge, the blinking lighthouse, and the clown’s mouth. These are feature that are still part of courses today.

In The Wall Street Journal, Ralph Lomma noted that they had courses on five continents and in all 50 states as well as a state penitentiary and an aircraft carrier.

Today miniature golf is still popular.  The games tend to be part of family entertainment complexes. From elaborate water traps to courses offering glow-in-the-dark challenges, miniature golf still brings in customers.

Historic Golf Course

And where would one find the oldest miniature golf course still standing?

In Sea Breeze, New York (near Rochester). The Whispering Pines Miniature Golf course is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It dates to 1930 and is thought to be the oldest remaining course in the United States.

***

For other summer pastimes, read about Drive-In Movie Theaters.  To view my video about How the Game of Miniature Golf Came About, watch below.

Allen Hoskins (1920-1980) was just 14 months old when he was cast as Farina in Hal Roach’s “Little Rascals.” (These film shorts became better known as the Our Gang comedies.) Because Hoskins was so young when he started, he outlasted many of the other players and provided stability to the films over the nine years he was in the cast.

After he became an adult, Allen Hoskins was realistic. When he saw that his career as an actor was drying up, he worked odd jobs until he put himself through school to become a psychiatric technician. He had a very successful career in the San Francisco Bay area, working with adults and children with special needs.

As he told a reporter who inquired whether he was disappointed to leave Hollywood: “I preferred a job that allowed me to eat regularly.”

Allen Hoskins’s Early Life

Allen Hoskins was born in Boston in 1920. His parents moved to Los Angeles shortly thereafter, because by 1922, Hoskins was playing Farina in Hal Roach’s Our Gang films. (The name Farina was taken from a breakfast cereal that became popular in the early part of the twentieth century.)

Hal Roach decided to costume baby Farina in gender neutral clothing. This heightened interest in the character, and it was convenient. If a baby boy was needed for the plot, Farina was a boy. If they really needed a girl, presto–Farina was a girl.

As Farina’s character settled in, his standard costume was a patchwork shirt and his hair tied with rags. Hoskins played what people of the day referred to as a “pickaninny,” a term for young black children. it was often used derogatorily, but in Hal Roach’s comedies, stereotypes were used as shorthand. Two-reeler comedies were filmed and packaged in only four to five days. By using stock characters—the fat boy, the pretty girl, the tom boy, the baby, etc.—plot lines were simplified.

Hal Roach and Our Gang

The story goes that Hal Roach was in his office in Culver City when he got the idea for “Little Rascals.” During an idle moment, he noticed a group of neighborhood kids playing in a vacant lot. The littlest child had the biggest stick, and the older children were trying to figure out how to get it away from him. Roach saw plot line possibilities.

He also already had his first cast member. At Roach’s request, the studio had signed a young black boy, Ernie “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison, to be in a movie. The movie flopped but Morrison was still under contract. If Roach build a film around “kids and pets,” this solved the issue of what to do with Morrison. He became the first of what were initially known as Hal Roach’s Rascals.

Because the film premise was untested, Roach wanted to gather his cast simply and easily. He invited employees to bring in their kids to try out. Allen Hoskins was pulled in as a friend of a friend. By age two, he had won the hearts of audience and critics.

Making of the Series

As the comedies became popular, Roach and the gang needed to turn out more and more completed shows. As early as 1923, they were producing 14 short films per year.

Studio employee Eleanor Lewis Packer wrote a storybook-like treatment of life on the set.  A Day with Our Gang was published in 1929 and gives an excellent view of how the Our Gang series was put together.

How They Filmed

Packer relates the story of a day when the kids are filming a scene in a park. The children’s day begins in the studio school, run by teacher Fern Carter. At 10 a.m. a bus takes them all to the park.  Director Robert McGowan meets them at the bus, and they all gather around him on the grass to hear about the story they are to create.

“Now here’s where we have a lot of fun,” he promised. “We’re going to play Indian today. See, here are all the bright feathers I brought for Harry and Farina to wear.” The other children get to be settlers. (Stereotyping? Yes. Even Hal Roach probably had no idea there were black cowboys like Bill Pickett.)

McGowan explained the story he wants the children to play. Then he

films them as they carry out their version of the plot. Pal the Pup is an important part of every story.

When the film crew takes a break, Mrs. Carter steps in. She gathers the kids to sit at a table she has set up so they can continue their class work. (Many years later, she noted that Allen Hoskins was one of her best students.)

While this overall filming process seems simple enough, it took its toll on McGowan. After a few years of working with the kids, McGowan had to take extra vacation for “nervous exhaustion.” (For another story about an artist who worked with animals and required extra vacation, please read about animal photographer Harry Frees.)

The Our Gang Cast

The comedy series was a hit. (Eventually 106 Our Gang film shorts were made.) Roach saw that he needed a continuing supply of young kids, so he brought in younger versions of each character. Hoskins would grow into the part that Ernie Morrison, the older black boy, played. And as Hoskins grew up, a new cast member, Matthew “Stymie” Beard, joined Our Gang to absorb Farina’s role.

Roach considered Allen Hoskins to be a gifted natural actor, so it was fortunate for both Roach and Hoskins that Allen started early and grew slowly. In 1929, the comedies became “talkies,” but Hoskins was just as wonderful with sound as he had been in the silent films. A late growth spurt permitted him to remain in the role of Farina for nine full years.

Allen Hoskins as Farina provided stability to the cast, and he was well paid for it. Some reports give his weekly salary as $500, but IMDb states it was $350. It was substantially more than most people in the country were making at that time.

After Our Gang

Child actors almost inevitably hit a rocky period when they aren’t cute youngsters anymore, but aren’t ready for adult roles either. Allen Hoskins faced this reality. Initially, he and his sister, Jannie, toured in vaudeville. After vaudeville, Hoskins continued to audition for film work. From 1932-36, he appeared in seven movies, but nothing materialized from it.

In 1940, he signed up for the Army. His military record shows that he attended one year of college before enlisting. He was stationed in Monterey, California, as a private in Company D, 47^th Quartermaster regiment. His permanent assignment was as an electrician, and when the war began, he and his unit he served in the Philippines.

After the War

Hoskins returned from military service hoping that he could reignite his acting career but he was not successful. He also was targeted by the House Un-American Activities Committee that was trying to “root out communism.” As a teenager, Hoskins attended dances sponsored by the Young Communist League and the Socialist Workers Party. The committee took his passport, and like many others in Hollywood, he was blacklisted.

Hoskins noted that it didn’t matter anyway. He wasn’t getting work.

Moved to San Francisco Area

In 1952, he moved to the San Francisco Bay area. He took odd jobs washing dishes and painting houses while he attended school to train as a psychiatric technician.  (There was no additional income for the actors who appeared in Our Gang. Residuals were not paid to actors during the era when Hoskins worked; no one foresaw television and the re-run value of the films they created.)

In the Bay area, he also met his wife with whom he raised six children.

From 1955 until his death from cancer in 1980, Allen Hoskins created for himself an admirable career in the rehabilitation field. He began at Sonoma State Hospital. By 1963, he was director of the Sheltered Workshop, an employment program that provided work for people with special needs. Later on, he worked for the Association for Retarded Children of Southern Alameda and was a vocal advocate for the disabled.

In the evenings, he devoted time to the Experimental Group Young People’s Theatre Company, a group he formed.

Hoskins Earned Film Honors

In 1975 he received the Oscar Micheaux Award given by the Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame. Hoskins was particularly touched by this as the award had previously been given to luminaries such as Ruby Dee, Eddie Anderson, Eartha Kitt, and Quincy Jones.

The Question of Stereotypes

As early as the late 1950s, reporters pursued the black actors from Our Gang, asking if they were complicit in furthering stereotypes. Hoskins never went along with that line of thinking.

When the atmosphere of the era is considered, it puts the comedies and the actors in a different light. Consider these examples:

On February 10, 1927, The Hollywood Vagabond gave a great review to one of the Our Gang comedies and then wrote:

“The tremendous round of applause that greeted Farina’s work in Save My Dog! when we saw it at a local theater the other evening was ample proof that the public is always ready to recognize exceptional work on the part of any player.”

Two years later there is this from Photoplay (March 1929): “Little Farina is a great argument for the development of the latent talent of the negro that has never been given adequate voice in the photoplay chorus.”

In about 1930, a photo of the four black cast members who were currently playing in Our Gang, was captioned, “Our Gang’s present quartet of little blackberries.” Clearly, bigotry was part of the day.

Our Gang Racism Addressed in Current Day

In December, 2011, the academic publication, The Journal of American Culture, ran an extensive article, “Together but Unequal: Race and Education in Our Gang,” written by Heather A. Weaver:

“Our Gang” presented a consistent image of interracial childhood friendships, but in order to maintain its appeal with largely white audiences, it did so by demeaning the black characters. Thus did it reveal a mirror-image truth of the Plessy era [referring to Plessy v. Ferguson, or separate but equal]: that mass culture only portrayed blacks and whites as together if the one was rendered as unequal to the other.”

On some level, Weaver’s comments may be true, but I would add that the stereotypes and the treatment of the black characters grew largely out of the industry and the job at hand. Roach needed a quick way to tell a story and get a laugh. In one newspaper interview, Hoskins is clearly shaken by the fact that he has just filmed a segment where he was involved in a scene where he was tossed around in a washing machine. He had been told it was “like a roller coaster,” and he found it was nothing like that. While the “pretty little blonde girl” would never have been placed in that environment, the “fat boy” was certainly similarly abused—all in the name of making a comedy quickly.

Today the film industry abides by legal guidelines regarding employment of children and the use of animals. In the early days, no one at all ever thought about it.

Allen Hoskins And Race

When Hoskins was confronted by reporters asking about the issue, his response was measured: “The message, I think, was that we’re all just people—sometimes good, sometimes bad.”

And this response was not because he didn’t think about race: Had he lived two more weeks, he would have been feted at his 60^th birthday party by a performance of the Experimental Group Young Peoples Theater. They were scheduled to perform a play Hoskins wrote about the about the epic struggle to integrate American schools. (Los Angeles Times, 7-29-1980)

Hoskins was trapped in the time period, but he thought very deeply about where he stood.

Today Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the star of a popular holiday television special and a live stage show. The song, based on the story, was written in the late 1940s and is still frequently played on radio or sung by school children throughout December.

While Rudolph has remained popular well into the 21^st century, he had his beginnings in the late 1930s. He was created by a staff copywriter who worked for Montgomery Ward. The story was published and popularized as an incentive to bring consumers to the stores at holiday time.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Beginning

Department stores in the 1930s struggled to bring consumers to stores even at holiday time. One of the ideas that grew out of this era was for stores to create North Pole sections of their stores where Santa (often a store employee) could sit to listen to children’s gift requests. Once the families were in the department store, retailers hoped the parents would shop.

At Montgomery Ward, Santa always gave each child a coloring book after they visited. In 1939, the retailer was looking for ways to cut costs. Management still wanted to let children leave with something, but it needed to cost less. They had in-house copywriters. Why not let one of them create a Christmas storybook to give away?

The copywriter chosen for the job was Robert May (1905-1976). As a father of a young child, he must have seemed like a good candidate. As it happened, May had a story to tell.

The Rudolph Story

Robert May had been among the smaller children in his grade at school, and the bigger boys took great pleasure in taunting him. May turned his personal challenge into a Christmas story about a reindeer who got teased for being different and having a funny-looking nose. However, Rudolph’s luck changes one foggy night when Santa spots him as the one reindeer who can lead Santa and his sleigh through the skies to continue delivering toys.

Parents and children loved the story. That year, the store distributed 2.4 million copies of the Rudolph storybook.

The following year, the retailer saw no reason to give up on Rudolph. Because Montgomery Ward had many outlets, they prepared special sales information to help each store get the most from the storybook. The referred to the Rudolph story as the “Perfect Christmas Crowd-Bringer.” They sent out sample ads and promotional suggestions. They also advised that stores should distribute only to children accompanied by adults to “keep street urchin traffic to a minimum.”

By 1946, Montgomery Ward printed and distributed more than 6 million copies of the book. At that point, however, store management felt Rudolph had run his course.

Personal Challenges of Robert May

While Robert May was working at Montgomery Ward, he was also dealing with a personal tragedy. His wife was sick and died of cancer shortly after May wrote the story. He was left as a single father of their young daughter with a mountain of medical debts. He struggled through the first few years after her death doing the best he could. As the store made plans for Holiday1947, May learned that Montgomery Ward no longer planned to distribute the storybook.

Robert May approached Sewall Avery, Montgomery Ward’s president, and requested the rights to Rudolph. He hoped he could get it commercially published and perhaps pay off some debts.  In the true spirit of Christmas, Avery agreed. (There ought to be a star shining for Sewell Avery even now.)

As May took over the management of Rudolph’s career, he was approached by Max Fleischer, a well-regarded pioneer in the field of animation.  The two made a deal, and Fleischer developed a nine-minute cartoon of the Rudolph story for theatrical release.

During this time, May’s brother-in-law, a veteran songwriter named Johnny Marks, was at work on a song about Rudolph. Marks was well-connected in the music industry, and he recorded and sent a demo copy to Perry Como. Como liked it but wanted to change some of the lyrics. Marks had a problem with that, so he continued to look for a star to record it. He tried both Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, but neither were interested.

The next idea Marks had was to send it to the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. The country western singer had recorded one or two other Christmas songs but Rudolph was a children’s song, so he didn’t jump at it right away.  However, he eventually agreed and recorded it in 1949. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer soared to the top of the Billboard pop charts as well as the country and western charts. It was a huge breakthrough for Autry.

Johnny Marks Pushed for Promotion

Johnny Marks was a big part of the success of the Rudolph song. He saw promotional opportunities that others missed. Autry was booked for a performance at Madison Square Garden. When Marks heard about it, he begged Autry to add the children’s song to his program. Autry reluctantly agreed, and Marks hired a costumed Rudolph to prance around during the song.

Gene Autry also had a radio program, and Marks knew the song should be performed over the airwaves. Neither Autry nor his producer was wild about performing a holiday children’s song during Autry’s regular country western show. Marks continued to urge, and Autry finally gave in.

During that first year, Rudolph sold two million copies. It became a mega-seller for years to come, remaining the best-selling single of all time after Bing Crosby’s White Christmas.

Robert May eventually left Montgomery Ward to manage Rudolph’s career full-time. Between the song, the cartoon, more editions of the book, a movie, and merchandise, there was plenty to do. Robert May became wealthy based on the story.

Original Version of Story

The many forms of the Rudolph story took on lives of their own. The original cartoon is the only one where the plot remained true to May’s first story.

In the original, Rudolph did not live at the North Pole or grow up aspiring to pull Santa’s sleigh. He lived in a reindeer village with his family. Santa comes to the village one foggy Christmas Eve. When Santa enters Rudolph’s bedroom to leave Rudolph’s gifts, Santa notes the glow from Rudolph’s nose. Santa knows immediately that Rudolph must lead Santa’s sleigh for the rest of the night.

The original verses were like “The Night Before Christmas” in rhythm and feel:

“Twas the day before Christmas and all through the hills

The reindeer were playing…enjoying the spills.”

When a publisher brought out a new copy of the story in book form in 1951, it was illustrated by the young Richard Scarry, who was to go on to be a major illustrator of children’s books.

Long and Happy Life

Rudolph has outlived all those who originally made the song and story famous, but he made many happy because Rudolph brought success. Robert May went on to remarry, and his daughter grew up in a happy household with siblings.

Before he died in 1976, May left some of the Rudolph papers and memorabilia to his alma mater, Dartmouth College. The collection was temporarily forgotten until about 2010, when one of the archivists came upon some of the material. The original scrapbook of Rudolph’s early success has now been restored, and we have additional details about the story. Among the items uncovered was the fact that May considered naming the Rudolph Rodney, Rollo, Reginald, or Romeo.

From this vantage point, Rudolph seems just right. After all, as Santa in the original cartoon says: Rudolph “had the #1 job on the #1 night:

https://youtu.be/mzlIqX8y2to

Fleischer’s cartoon, released in 1948, is now in the public domain. It portrays May’s original story and provides a fascinating feel for early animation. As you watch, remember that the soundtrack of the Rudolph song we know was not added until the early 1950s.