In Chicago, the Pullman Co. named a car after a Negro porter. Rejecting, for the first time in its history, the tepid, sad-eyed romanticism of such names as Bellameade, Merryvale, Alamar, it christened a car after a Negro who died, last month, in an attempt to save the lives of the passengers when his car was wrecked in New Jersey*—Oscar J. Daniels.
Name
In Brooklyn, one Abraham Lieberman obtained permission from a Supreme Court Justice to change his name to Benjamin Harris—a name which he chose because he had observed that in Who’s Who that there were 63 persons named Harris, only one named Lieberman. He was confounded when informed that, in the directory of his city, there were 35 persons named Benjamin Harris, 33 named Abraham Lieberman.
Reward
In Brooklyn, one Gertrude Stigman, 9, promoted to the 4B grade in school, was rewarded by her mother with a rubber ball. Gertrude bounced the ball joyously high in air, landed it in a flower box, climbed up, clutched the side of the box which, unsettled by her tug, toppled with its 200 lb. of earth upon her skull, crushed her to death.
Umbrage
In Brooklyn, one Christine Garcia, 6-ft.-2-in., 200-lb. Porto Rican, got home from work, took umbrage at the music his sister was playing on the phonograph, tossed the phonograph out of the window, barked his shins on a table, threw the table after the phonograph, went from room to room performing feats. His sister ran for a policeman. Mr. Garcia knocked down the peaked bluecoat. Came another. Mr. Garcia bit him; he hit Mr. Garcia with a blackjack; Mr. Garcia dived from the window into the clutches of two more officers who lugged him, roaring, off to jail.
Doom
In Elizabeth, N. J., one Robert Reidt, “Apostle of Doom,” rose up in a theatre, prophesied the end of the world by a war which would begin Nov. 11, “between the white and yellow races, … so terrible that even women will be drafted . . . the first evidence of this situation was shown when the U. S. gave women the vote. . .”
Upstart
In Manhattan, one Henry Gettis, Negro Civil War veteran, passed the morning sitting beside the riverside tomb of General Ulysses S. Grant, removed himself later to a park in the lower part of town, decided to rest on a bench. While he sat there a laborer, one Luke Owens, 49, passed by, stopped to curse, to abuse Gettis for his idleness. When reproved, he issued a profane challenge to fisticuffs. A crowd formed. Up leapt Mr. Gettis. His old hand, rivered with dull veins, blotched along the back with great patches like distended freckles, hardened into a knot, smote the bully upon the chin, dropped him to the sidewalk. Said Mr. Gettis: “I’m not too old to thrash an upstart.”
Speed Law
In Providence, a law was enforced by the state police: motorists traveling on the main state thoroughfares must maintain a speed of 35 miles an hour or get off the road to avoid blocking traffic.
Could Not Stop
In Marysville, Pa., a child sat on a railroad track, played with a stray bolt, heedless of a freight, train which bore down upon it. The engineer jammed on the air brakes, but hisheavy cars had too much momentum; they shoved the engine forward; it could not stop. A fireman, one Bruce Hoffman, leapt from the engine, raced ahead, snatched the child to safety.
* The forward Pullman, in which Daniels was seated, left the rails, bumped up beside the locomotive. Clouds of searing steam, pouring from the boiler, hissed through the car’s open door. Daniels plunged through the scalding vapor to shut the door. He was alive when rescuers entered. Taken outside, he refused first aid. “Fix that little girl first,” said he. Doctors obeyed, returned to find Daniels dead.
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