Columns: Secret History





 

More Like Christmas

Yuletide, we knew it a century ago

Southern Railway added coaches to its trains into Knoxville. Thousands were streaming in, from Jellico, from Morristown, from Johnson City, just to shop.

The Knoxville Sentinel observed that the holiday was getting just a little out of hand. “Christmas has become a day of almost universal present-giving, not only among children, but also, of late, among their elders. There has been noticed a proper reaction against expensive presents.... The spirit of giving does not and should not involve financial sacrifice....”

Some had been grumbling about the cold weather, which had brought some snow. A White Christmas was not necessarily a common ideal in 1904. Baker Peter Kern, a German immigrant, straightened us out on that score. Kern’s Market Square store was “Christmas Headquarters,” selling candy and fruitcakes. Their big newspaper ad was emphatic: “MORE LIKE CHRISTMAS,” it went. “Welcome the Snow. It always changes the atmosphere to one of genuine Holiday Flavor.”

Knoxville was polarized in several directions. One newspaper columnist called for better facilities for Knoxville’s numerous secret men’s societies like the Oddfellows and the Masons. “Knoxville is essentially a secret-society town,” he said. In any “large city” like Knoxville, a self-respecting secret society clubhouse should have a “parlor, reading room, pool or billiard room, gymnastic facilities, a swimming pool...”

Meanwhile, though, evangelist George Stuart warned that the proliferation of men’s clubs here was clear evidence that the church had “laid down and fallen short of its duty.” He also forecast the day “when liquor would be wiped out of the state.” But Heller Brothers ran a holiday ad declaring, “You could not select a better present than a jug or bottle of whiskey or wine.”

The East Tennessee Brewing Company’s holiday ad went, “When a glass of good cheer in the form of a rich, ripe Beer warms the cockles of the heart, Good Beer is food, drink, and medicine.... Ask for the Knoxville Beer and insist upon getting it.” They offered several varieties, but the most popular beer in 1904 Knoxville was ETBC’s Palmetto, “That Peerless Brew,” its bottle labeled in exotic Arabic-style cursive (“It makes the sick strong. It keeps the strong immune against disease.”)

Knoxville hadn’t yet decided how it felt about alcohol. City Council had tried to appease the prohibitionists by saying the city’s 100-odd saloons had to close on Sundays and by midnight.

Alderman Dennis Finley was in a bit of trouble along those lines. An investigation into rumored Sunday sales at his South Central saloon revealed that Finley’s place had a gambling den on the second floor, a whorehouse on the third. His defense was that “he had to rent his property to people of ill repute or let it stand idle.”

Anybody could understand his dilemma. A new, progressive Civic Federation seemed to try to strike a compromise, in “hopes that all people of this character be put on one thoroughfare, and then these officials will not have to violate the law.”

William F. Pitt, of the old Methodist church on East Main, gave a sermon on the Evils of War: “The day is so near at hand that it is already beginning to dawn, when courts of international arbitration will take the place of war, and settle all difficulties that may arise between nations,” he declared. “War is a curse and wholesale murder in the sight of God.”

Knoxvillians of 1904 didn’t fret much more about the big questions than they would later. To many Knoxvillians, Christmas meant one thing: Bowling. The popular event hosted by the Knoxville Bowling Club had been held every Christmas Day for years and drew hundreds. But this year, Christmas fell on a Sunday, and folks who were happy to spend nine hours of Christmas Day bowling weren’t willing to do the same on a Sunday. They moved it to the 26th, from 2 to 11 p.m. Hosted by Ed Bundshu, after an “elegant lunch” of roast pig at the society’s Linden Avenue clubhouse, he said, “The evening will be spent in bowling.”

You could, of course, buy bowling balls downtown in 1904. You could buy nearly anything. One item much discussed that year was men’s hats. Most men wore derbies in 1904, but there was a new style, perhaps influenced by tales of the Wild West. “Have you seen the new and nobby flat-iron shape?” went one ad. The new hat for 1904 had a broader brim than a derby—something like an early fedora. You could get them at several stores, including Beaman’s.

M.M. Newcomer had its “beautiful Toyland,” featuring mechanical climbing monkeys, velocipedes, air guns, magic lanterns, and “red-devil automobiles.” Chances are a Knoxville kid in 1904 had a car before his parents did.

Miller’s was hawking smoking jackets. Not yet one of Knoxville’s larger shops, Miller’s had just announced its intentions to build a big new store at the corner of Gay and Union.

Sterchi’s new Emporium advertised that they were open nightly until 9 p.m., offering 20 percent off dining-room furniture.

At Hope Brothers Jewelers on Gay Street, “at the Sign of the Big Clock,” you could buy cut-glass decanters, tumblers, and bon-bon dishes.

McClung, Buffat & Buckwell, by contrast, promised “Useful and Sensible Gift Things,” like Gillette’s new safety razors (“No Stropping”), food choppers, carpet sweepers, and shotguns. But they also sold tennis rackets, footballs, and boxing gloves.

On Saturday night, Christmas Eve, the streets were clogged from 7 to midnight. In spite of a cold rain, it was the busiest shopping day of the year. That night, Staub’s Theater, which usually hosted vaudeville shows, featured Archie L. Shepard’s High Class Moving Pictures: “two hours of interesting entertainment.”

Best of all, there were only a few of the usual problems: Christmas-Eve fireworks, a robbery, a fight. For once, police kept our traditionally unruly Christmas under control.

“Knoxville has never known a quiet and exemplary Christmas as that of 1904,” noted the Sentinel, reporting that only 26 people had been arrested for public drunkenness that day. “The absence of drunkenness and unseemly conduct was especially noticeable and favorably commented on....”

December 16, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 51
© 2004 Metro Pulse