When it really was turkey day
Back in 1924, it was all about the bird ... Tucson reporters had some fun ... Charlie Chaplin dodges the cameras.
A century ago, turkeys weren’t just the main dish for Thanksgiving Day dinners. They also were the inspiration for whimsical writing in Tucson’s newspapers.
Holidays always give reporters a bit of freedom to stretch their wings with their writing, as you can see this week with stories about President Joe Biden pardoning a pair of turkeys, as the presidential tradition goes.
“After spending a night in the lap of luxury in a 5-star hotel frequented by presidents, two Minnesota-born turkeys named Peach and Blossom trotted their stuff at the White House for President Joe Biden on the Monday of Thanksgiving Week,” Swapna Venugopal Ramaswamy reported for USA Today.
It’s one of the few times of the year when serious reporters get to have a little fun.
But nothing compares to the newspapers of a century ago, particularly when it came to writing about turkeys around Thanksgiving Day.
We’re always thankful for the chance to dive into the archives of old newspapers. And since you all enjoyed our first annual “Turkey talk edition,” looking back at what Tucson was doing in 1923, we’re sticking with the tradition.
Our favorite Thanksgiving 1924 story comes from an Arizona Daily Star scribe who really leaned into the drama of a neighborhood dealing with a loose turkey.
“Self preservation beat strong in the white meat of a turkey’s breast yesterday morning as he sat atop the home of R.A. Widdowson at Helen and First streets.”
“He sent his defiant gobble into the crisp morning air, and it reverberated about the windows of the bungalow, reached the ears of those within and awakened curiosity.”
“Investigation. One turkey, quite satisfied, without an owner and Thanksgiving Day only 24 hours off. The situation required action.”
“Many well directed rocks sailed past the purpling head of the angered bird. American and liberty and Thanksgiving. Had his ancestors not suffered lo! these hundreds of years because of man’s appetite for Thanksgiving?”
“Spreading his strong wings he departed from the unfriendly Widdowson roof and sailed grandly in side-swiped motion to the roof of another house, across the street. Folding his wings he settled himself quietly.”
“But of peace there was none.”
The story went on. A family across the street “scattered to the compass” in search of the bird, as the “entire neighborhood was now aroused.” At last, a gun was borrowed and “spectators held their breath.”
“But the clammy hands of death were still eluded.” The gun misfired. Then the marksman missed and the turkey flew into a nearby cottonwood tree. Eventually, they hit their mark and the turkey fell into a “pen of crackling hens.”
“Breakfast was a half hour late in the neighborhood,” the story concluded.
Over at the Tucson Citizen, reporters investigated the history of the turkey.
While it’s the main dish at a holiday that’s inseparable from U.S. culture, it originally came from Mexico, where the Spanish historian Oviedo called it “a kind of peacock abounding in New Spain,” the Citizen reported November 25, 1924.
“That Tucson, as the Old Pueblo of ‘New Spain,’ may lay claim to a share in the honor of being the native haunts of the original Thanksgiving Day bird, the turkey, is an interesting fact now disclosed as an interesting and biological fact.”
“Second only to the wonderful way in which Mother Tucson can fix his Royal Goblets is the wonderful history of this bird known to millions of tables on Thanksgiving Day as turkey.”
The reporter went on to tell the tale of how turkeys were first seen by Europeans, when Spaniards came across a “fine zoological garden” during their conquest.
“In it were nearly all the native birds and animals, with many gathered from afar. Strutting about were the ancestors of our domestic turkey, then serving as food for the beasts of prey of the emperor’s menagerie.”
In 1540, the story went on, turkeys were introduced in England. A few decades later, they were "in high favor as the Christmas dish of the English farmer,” the Citizen reported.
A hop, skip and a jump later, the Pilgrims were sailing toward the New World.
When Gov. William Bradford sent four men in search of game to fill the table for a day of thanksgiving in 1623, “they returned struggling under a great burden of wild fowl, principally turkeys, sufficient to meet the wants of the little colony for a week.”
We’re staying in 1924 with our Other News section, which we wrote as if the Tucson Agenda had been around back then. Enjoy!
No photographs please: The bridal party of world-famous actor Charlie Chaplin rode through Tucson on the railroad this week. They stopped to change trains in town, but didn’t give any interviews to the local reporters who clamored around the train. Chaplin’s publicist offered to answer questions, but the press corps was not enthused.
More machine than party: Electing Gov. George W.P. Hunt for a fifth time is “an unheard of thing in American politics and in the political practice in American commonwealths,” the Tucson Citizen’s editorial board wrote. Hunt’s support is “not that of a political party, but of a political machine that has been intrenched for ten years and which, after the manner of machines, is trying to perpetuate itself.”
Bon voyage: The Delphian Society in Tucson was treated to a viewing of a sacred scarab and a discussion of Egyptian history as Mrs. Byron Cummings1 prepared for a trip to Egypt, the Arizona Daily Star reported. In the latter half of the meeting, they debated the “popular craze for new books,” compared to searching for the “best” books.
Scolding from the pulpit: A Tucson pastor said most people were living a lie on Thanksgiving by not devoting themselves to thanking God (newspapers in 1924 gave ample space to religious leaders).
“If Thanksgiving day is not redeemed and held true to its purpose and the presidents proclamation it should be abolished,” Rev. E. C. Tuthill said. “For today, it is with a majority of our citizens a living lie—it is almost everything except a day of national supplication and thanksgiving to God.”
Taking flight: The new flagship of the U.S. Navy’s fleet of dirigibles, the Los Angeles, was commissioned on Tuesday in front of a vast crowd in Washington, D.C., the Star reported. Her smaller sister-ship, the Shenandoah, passed over Tucson recently, but the impressive ceremony was reserved for the Los Angeles.
“Somewhere ahead of her in the blackness fled a half score of homing pigeons carrying word to the Lakehurst station that with full pomp and ceremony, the name of the California city had been bestowed upon the ship by Mrs. Calvin Coolidge, wife of the nation’s president,” the Star reported.
Hunt holds off: The vacant seat left at Pima County Superior Court by the resignation of Judge George Darneil won’t be filled until after Thanksgiving, the Tucson Citizen reported. Hunt said the list of replacements was down to two candidates, but he wouldn’t pick either until the people of Pima County decided which one they wanted. The gossip among local attorneys is Hunt wanted to wait until after the city elections. In the meantime, he said he’d keep an eye on the vacancy to make sure it didn’t become a problem.
“When they need a judge, I’ll send them one,” Hunt said.
2,115,700: Sales of stocks in New York in late November 1924. The stock market continued to roar, with no end in sight. It had soared past 2 million shares 11 times since election day.2
Back then, women often were referred to by their husband’s name in newspapers.
The country would ride high for another five years before Black Thursday hit in 1929 and it all started crumbling down.