In 1930, the residents of Dedham, Mass. paid $12,600 for a
war memorial on which was inscribed the phrase "Pax Victis." But six years later a Latinist pointed out that the phrase meant "Peace to the conquered," which didn't quite sound right. It's along the lines of 'Slavery is Freedom.' So the city paid $400 to change the inscription to "Pax Victoribus" -- "Peace to the victorious." But apparently that didn't sound quite right either because eventually it was changed to read simply "Pax." [
Waterville Times - Apr 16, 1936 (pdf)]
1937 ad for Listerine. From what I understand, Listerine really is an effective cure for dandruff. However, I assume that most people were reluctant to rub mouthwash in their hair. And nowadays, no company in their right mind would admit in the ad that they tested the product on cute rabbits.
A 1936 advertising appeal to householders in Willesden, Middlesex, England. [source:
Newsweek - Apr 11, 1936]
A little over a month ago I posted about how, back in the 1930s and 40s, there used to be
"Miss Typical" contests. Turns out there were male versions of these contests as well. The picture below shows the 1939 finalists for the "Typical American Boy" contest. The winner was Karl McCready, 13, of Louisville, Kentucky (sitting in the front row, on the left). You can see some footage of the Typical Boy contest over at
efootage.com.
Can't help but wonder what kind of child would have been produced if Typical Boy and Miss Typical had ever gotten together.
Zip ahead to the five-minute mark to see
Flip the Frog toking on an opium pipe.
In January 1934, at the age of 82, arctic explorer W.J.A. Grant decided he wasn't much longer for this world and had a "farewell to life" champagne party. The centerpiece of the event was a wooden coffin he had specially made. Five hundred people attended, as well as "a bevy of beautiful dancing girls." He instructed everyone to "wear your gayest clothes—don't come in the miserable garb of woe."
The partying lasted through the night. Grant, wearing a boutonniere in his coat lapel, mingled with his guests "and pointed cheerfully to a notice on the wall that said he would die within a week."
But the next day, having had only two hours of sleep, he announced that he now "felt fine." It took him another year before he finally kicked the bucket. [Chicago Tribune - Mar 11, 1935]
When I first saw the cover of this March 1935 issue of the
Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung, I thought the photo must be fake. But no, it's real. It shows 20-year-old Gogea Mitu, a boxer and the tallest Romanian in history. From
wikipedia:
Mitu became world famous because of his enormous stature, at the age of 20 he was 2.42 metres (7.9 ft) tall, had a weight of 183 kilograms (400 lb) and had a foot size of 38 centimetres (15 in). Because of these characteristics he was very sought after by doctors and scientists who wanted to know the reason for his gigantism and by people who wanted to profit from his stature.
Mitu only lived to be 22, dying of tuberculosis in 1936. In the picture, it looks like he's wearing Converse sneakers. Did they come in his size, or were they custom-made for him?