1949: Ruth Brand "kicked off" National Pickle Week. And apparently that's a genuine giant pickle in the photos, not a fake one.
"Harry Conley of the Green Bay Food company, who is president of the National Pickle Packers association, officiates in Chicago at the 'kickoff' of the national pickle week campaign. Pickle week will be held May 20 to 28. Kicking the world's largest pickle is Ruth Brand, Chicago."
Lancaster Intelligencer Journal - Feb 11, 1949
But what is this about Amerigo Vespucci being a pickle dealer? I'd never heard this before.
Some research reveals that the claim traces back to a remark made by Ralph Waldo Emerson in his book English Traits:
Strange, that the New World should have no better luck,— that broad America must wear the name of a thief. Amerigo Vespucci, the pickle-dealer at Seville, who went out, in 1499, a subaltern with Hojeda, and whose highest naval rank was boatswain's mate in an expedition that never sailed, managed in this lying world to supplant Columbus, and baptize half the earth with his own dishonest name.
Smithsonian magazine investigated the claim and doesn't think it's very likely. Vespucci did work for a while as a ship chandler, and in this capacity it's possible he may have supplied some ships with pickled foods. But to go from this to calling him a pickle dealer is a bit of a stretch.
Useless Superpower: Mrs. Gertrude Smith of York, Pennsylvania claimed that she was able to project mental images into the minds of hens, causing them to lay eggs with distinctive patterns. For instance, she thought of sunflowers and, sure enough, her hens laid eggs with a sunflower pattern.
Unfortunately it doesn't appear that any pictures were taken of the patterned eggs, even though Mrs. Smith brought some into the offices of the York Gazette and Daily, in order to prove her claim.
Despite the explanation below, I'm not at all sure how a "quickle" differed from a pickle. I suspect that the pickle industry quickly dropped the 'quickle' name and just referred to pasteurized pickles as pickles. Some googling reveals that the majority of the pickles you can find in supermarkets are, in fact, pasteurized. So I guess that, technically, they would be quickles.
Lyman Leader - Aug 7, 1947
"Pickle packers picked pert Pat Varner." Try saying that three times quickly!
Des Moines Tribune - June 23, 1947
Some better quality images of the Quickle Queen, via akg-images.
With a name like "Pearl Harbor Vengeance Legion," its members must have been pretty badass. Survivors of Pearl Harbor perhaps?
No, they were workers at Westinghouse's lamp division who had gone a year without being late or taking a sick day.
VENGEANCE LEGION MEMBER
BLOOMFIELD, N.J., Mar. 15 — Member in good standing of the Pearl Harbor Vengeance Legion is Doris E. Miller, who helps make airplane landing lights at the Westinghouse Lamp Division. The membership card she is displaying certifies that she has not been late nor absent since the Jap attack on Pearl Harbor. The "Legion" has been organized by the Joint Committee of Labor and Management to combat absenteeism and is open to any employee who has maintained a perfect attendance record for 12 months following Pearl Harbor. Miss Miller lives at 36 Brighton Terrace, Irvington, N.J.
Because he disliked "gnawing on stringy chicken wings," Peter Baumann bred wingless chickens. This was back in the 1940s. Evidently his wingless chickens failed to interest the chicken industry. I haven't been able to find out what became of his flock.
To illustrate the helpless quality of these wingless birds, photographer Francis Miller dropped one from six feet to show how it failed to fly, as opposed to a winged chicken that glided downwards.
A beauty contest inspired by a song! It started in 1947, but I'm not sure when it ended. But it was still active at least till 1983, as you can see below.
"Treetop acrobatics are privilege of veteran climbers who go as high as 100 feet above ground"
Unlike their pallid compatriots, the cellar-dwelling Existentialists, the Parisians pictured here have found a healthy way to escape the world's woes. They simply take off their clothes and climb trees. This pleasant diversion was invented by a musician named Jean Wetzel and an actor named Jacques Gall, who explains, "We are searching for happiness in the contemplation of trees. . . . We try to become a part of nature and assimilate ourselves to it by climbing." Members of the society prefer climbing the plane trees of Chatou island in the Seine for their activities. In hot weather Paris their antics seem high fun indeed.
"Prettiest tree climber is 25-year-old Catherine Arley, an actress specializing in comedy roles"
"Preclimb ritual finds scantily-clad members saluting huge plane tree, which Cofounder Jacques Gall recently described as a 'symbol of heaven.'"
[The critics] all commented on the audience fleeing the scene of the crime at intermission. They, alas, were stuck with the second act.
The plot? Of course I can tell you the plot. There’s a baby food manufacturer who is looking for an act he can use to promote his product on a radio show. This guy has a sixteen member all-girl band, the Hairpin Harmonettes, led by his girlfriend and singing triplets. The trio consisted of the real life teenaged Clawson sisters, who billed themselves as Triplets, but actually Barbara was a year older than twins Doris and Dorothy. (These girls were managed by their dad, who got some radio spots for them before and after this disaster. Poor Barbara was professionally renamed “Dawna.” They were named Miss Subways in May 1944, which brings to mind a whacked out alternate version of ON THE TOWN, in which Gabby falls for all three of them…)
Anyway, the band promoter himself is the one who gets the gig (ooh, spoilers!) because he has a fine falsetto. So he wears diapers (for a radio spot? Well, maybe PR photos?) and talks baby talk, thus saving the day for everyone.
Except Harold Orlob.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.