Meatless Tuesdays

In somewhat of a hectoring October 11, 1942 radio address in which he addressed scrap metal collection, tin can collection, food prices and gambling, among other topics, Mayor LaGuardia officially kicked off Meatless Tuesdays.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“There has been a great deal of talk about a meatless day. Let’s have less talk about this and let’s do something about it.… I now officially request hotels, restaurants and all eating places to make Tuesday the meatless day, and, of course, in the homes we will follow that too and then we’ll have a real saving in meat.”

In a game attempt to ward off resistance, he tackled the notion that Friday should be the official meatless day. “Now all this talk about having Friday as a meatless day really doesn’t sound as if it were on the level. Friday is a traditional fish day and to make Friday your official meatless day sort of smacks of the slicker, doesn’t it? Now let’s do things real here in New York City. We don’t want to be hypocritical about this, let us give the example to the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Sounds simple. Fish Fridays. Meatless Tuesdays. But quickly there were requests for clarification—what was considered meat? There were complaints. And there was pushback.

First up on October 13, 1942: Harry Spector, from the Latin Quarter “would like some clarification on the Mayor’s Sunday speech… they of course want to cooperate to the fullest extent and want to know whether the Mayor wishes to include veal, lamb, poultry, etc. since they were under the impression that the shortage was merely with beef.”

On October 14th an anonymous restaurant owner wanted to know if Meatless Tuesdays includes poultry (chicken, ducks) as well as liver?

The President of Nedicks weighed in. The hotdog purveyor wrote that the company employed 1000 New Yorkers and sold four tons of frankfurters daily in the City. He was not pleased and suggested that the Mayor must not have meant to include the humble hot dog in Meatless Tuesdays.

The October 14th New York Mirror reported that representatives from the hotel and restaurant industries met with the Secretary of Agriculture. The Herald Tribune reported that the Department of Agriculture was not sponsoring meatless days. Meatless days, such as those in New York City were considered voluntary.

To clarify, the Mayor said hot dog and hamburger stands were part of the Meatless Tuesday effort and sent letters informing business owners they could serve fish, poultry, liver, kidneys, sweetbreads and heart on Tuesdays. Sausage was not permitted.

The clarification apparently proved insufficient because the Mayor addressed the proposed meatless days in the next two radio shows. On October 18, a week after the initial announcement, LaGuardia devoted a good portion of the radio address to meat rationing. Declaiming that the Secretary of Agriculture was enthusiastic about the hotel/restaurant response, the Mayor said, “We again are setting the pace for the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Claiming that the listening public would be happy about the splendid response to the Meatless Tuesday appeal, the Mayor offered additional clarification on the hot dog situation. He had conferred with the Quartermaster General for the Army who reported that frankfurters “are served as meat in Army messes at least three times a month.” That led to somewhat of a compromise. Nedicks would not serve hamburgers on the meatless days. Stores that only sold hamburgers would do their best to substitute foods. Delicatessens were instructed “not to serve any of the meats that are now under ration on Tuesday. There is such a variety of things, Mr. Delicatessen Store Keeper, that you can serve on Tuesday, that I’m sure you will not feel the difference.”

He went on to provide details on the quantity of meat required by the armed forces (6.5 billion pounds) and civilians (21 billion pounds) for the year compared to the estimated meat production (24 billion pounds). The 3.5 billion pound deficit in meat production needed to be addressed. “In order to do this the formula is to ration meat, but all the necessary preliminary arrangements and the printing of the coupons cannot possibly be completed before January 1st. If we permit these 10 weeks to go by without doing anything about it, then the amount originally intended to be rationed must be reduced, and therefore, our government calls upon us voluntarily to put into action now the same formula that we will be required to meet when the rationing preparations are completed. Do I make that clear? We must reduce the amount and in order to reduce the amount, the meat must be rationed, but we cannot get our ration coupons until around January 1st.

Under the wartime rationing program that began six months later, adults would be allocated 2.5 pounds of meat weekly, children over age 6 would receive 1.5 pounds while those under age 6 would receive ¾ of a pound. Concerned that New Yorkers would complain about the quantities, the Mayor said, “Please don’t get the idea that this is a great sacrifice. Our formula allows 40 ounces per week for each adult. Britain has but 30 ounces per week, Italy 3 ½ to 4 ½ ounces per week, Holland 9 ounces per week, Belgium 5 ounces per week, Germany 5 ounces per week. You see, that after all, we haven’t very much of a cut to make and if properly managed, and with the meat not included in the rationed amount it is no effort at all to comply.”

And so began the compulsory voluntary Meatless Tuesday program.

The Association of Food Shop Owners pledged to recommend to all 152 member diners “that they comply voluntarily and concienciously (sic)” with the request for the duration of the war.

There were protests, to be sure. One mother of two enlisted sons wrote from Islip to urge that Friday’s be the meatless day, noting that Catholics were making a double sacrifice, “just as so many mothers have to sacrifice their sons while others are working in defense plants and getting deferred month after month.” Never mind that as an Islip resident she was not a bound by City’s program.

Catholics complained of discrimination for being required to forego meat twice weekly—three times during Lent. Kosher butchers complained that Tuesday was among their busiest days so a voluntary prohibition on sales was problematic. They suggested meatless Saturdays and Sundays.

The Daily News queried “What’s Happening to Our Democracy” in an editorial opposing meatless Tuesdays. Noting that this was not required by any law or regulation from the nation, city or state, it complained that “the Mayor pulled the notion out of his hat.” Instead the paper suggested that this be postponed until the enactment of uniform national regulations. “National meatless day regulations would produce real meat conservation; isolated local fish-and-chips gestures cannot.” The editorial also weighed in on Friday being a better day to go meatless due to the large Catholic population who would be deprived of meat twice weekly.

A letter to the Mayor from the proprietor of Prentzel and Arne, a meat broker and self-proclaimed “meat man,” wrote “it is rather interesting to me that I now find myself defending you in a meat matter, whereas in the past I have so often been in active opposition to some of your views pertaining to meat matters, i.e. grading.” The attachment to the letter, which was intended as a response to The Daily News, discussed issues with the distribution/transportation of meat and continued, “Now getting back to the “Meat” of your editorial, New York is the largest population center in the U.S. and a start here, if successful in voluntary rationing, should have considerable influence on the rest of the country.”

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Department of Sanitation, which operated an employee cafeteria at its main 125 Worth Street office published a menu listing roast lamb with two vegetables for forty cents and a roast beef sandwich for twenty cents. A note at the bottom of the mimeographed menu stated, “In cooperation with the Mayor’s request—no meat will be served on Tuesdays—starting with Tuesday—October 20th, 1942. The files also contain a communique from the Commissioner of the Department of Corrections titled Dried Beans, Peas, Lentils, and Peanuts. It included recipes for bean loaf, bean soufflé, bean croquette, rice and lentil loaf. Another Corrections handout included cheese and egg recipes along with “timely suggestions” for stretching meat.

Not everyone was upset. One radio listener wrote that he thought it was “swell.”

The associate editor of The American Vegetarian sent the Mayor a copy of the paper and offered to have a staffer walk around with a sandwich board stating

Observe Meatless Days

Learn how by reading the

AMERICAN VEGETARIAN

Ask man for copy—10 cents

In his October 25 radio address, after discussing the prior week’s air raid drill, the Mayor returned to the topic of Meatless Tuesday. “Meatless Tuesday last week was most successful and attracted the admiration of the entire country. Citizens in other cities are asking why they can’t do as much. Oh, there’s been a little undercurrent around among certain individuals who are more anxious to sell meat and get big prices than they are to help the government. I’m not going to mention any names. I just want to say that the government expects full and complete cooperation.”

A letter from the Society of Restauranteurs informed the Mayor that the Governor of California designated Meatless Tuesdays for the duration of the war. A Connecticut official sent a telegram asking for information and the Mayor instructed Secretary Lester Stone to provide the full data.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Many people wrote the Mayor to report on stores and restaurants serving meat on Tuesdays. Someone reported the Hotel Taft restaurants were violating the ban. A note in the call folder instructs staff to call representatives from the Hotel Association. “Tell them to tell the Taft that they better obey the “Meatless Tuesdays” or else, violations, etc. Apparently the message got through because the Taft Hotel Manager wrote to assure the Mayor’s secretary of their cooperation and included menus showing the Meatless Tuesday offerings.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Ladies Club of the Kingslawn United Presbyterian Church wrote the Mayor for his opinion on whether their annual dinner scheduled for a Tuesday, for which tickets had been sold and food ordered should go ahead. The Mayor granted a dispensation for the annual dinner and suggested that the attendees should “refrain from eating meat on Wednesday” to compensate.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Interborough Delicatessen Dealers Association, based in Brooklyn resolved to close their Kosher Delicatessens on Tuesdays. Their attorney wrote to the Mayor that only two or three of the three hundred stores still opened on Tuesdays. This had led to picketing at one of the offending stores in Brooklyn. And, in turn, that led to the arrest of six picketers and an eventual review by The Police Commissioner of the City, Lewis Valentine.

By early November, Mayor LaGuardia’s exasperation with New Yorkers is evidenced in his reply to the proprietor of Ruppel’s Market in Elmhurst. “So many people have sent in letters suggesting different days of the week for a meatless day that were each of these letters taken into consideration, there would be no meatless day or every day would be a meatless day.”

LaGuardia’s attempt to quash demands for meatless Fridays fell flat. For the duration of the meatless days between October 1942 and September 1945, he received extensive pushback, particularly from Catholics. In 1943, the City Council enacted a bill to name either Wednesday or Friday the meatless day in order to spare Catholics from three meatless days. Each Holy Name Society in the Diocese of Brooklyn was asked to communicate with the Mayor to encourage him to sign the bill into law. The Mayor was unmoved, responding to the letter-writers that he had consulted the “highest Ecclesiastical officials” in setting meatless day on Tuesday. Despite the Council’s efforts, Meatless Tuesdays continued.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In March, 1943, as LaGuardia had foretold six months earlier, the shortfall in meat production led to the national rationing of meat. The federal Office of Price Administration officially began issuing ration stamps for meat. Each family was required to register its size in order to obtain the appropriate quantity of ration stamps. To purchase meat, or other rationed products, the buyer presented the required number of stamps for the item which qualified the person to pay the asking price for it. Stamps were distributed on a monthly basis and were required to be used within the month.

The federal rationing program altered the City’s enforcement approach. In response to a letter from an attorney who reported roast beef sandwiches were being served at a restaurant, the Mayor replied that after the rationing system was deployed the City no longer required restaurants to comply with meatless Tuesdays. He went on to note, ‘the better number of restaurants have voluntarily continued their program of not serving meat on this day.”

There is a gap in the Meatless Tuesday files between mid-1943 and January 1945 presumably because the rationing program was functioning. But, on January 21, 1945 the Mayor again addressed WNYC radio listeners and noted the shortage of meat because the “Army needs more and the Army is going to get all that it needs.” He announced the only way to deal with the shortage was to return to the official meatless days in the City. And this time, there were to be two meatless days—Tuesday and Friday, beginning the next week. The Mayor listed ten restaurant associations and six food chains with which he had conferred, including the Café Owners Guild that operated night clubs, and praised all of them for being helpful. He then focused on un-named steak houses, calling them chiselers who “cater to the sort of gluttons and loud mouths, and fellows who are earning the big money now, who go there and brag about eating meat, black market meat, and paying $4 and $6 for a steak.” And he promised a crackdown in cooperation of the Office of Price Administration.

Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In his radio address the next week, he tackled subjects that had bedeviled the initial roll out in 1942: hot dogs and poultry. “Tuesdays and Fridays are meatless days, and it means just that—meatless days—no meat or any meat that comes from four-legged animals. Nothing coming from a four-legged animal should be used on Tuesdays of Fridays. That means poultry, turkey, fish and game may be used… For the present we will compromise on frankfurters-dogs you know- on Tuesdays and Fridays.” The unstated compromise was that hot dogs were okay. The Mayor also ordered butcher shops to close on Mondays (Saturdays for Kosher shops) and to only operate five days a week. Enforcement was initially to be undertaken by the various restaurant and hotel associations. But, the OPA and City’s Department of Markets also were engaged in these efforts.

This go-round the Mayor’s Office forwarded all correspondence questioning what could be served to the Department of Markets. Was corn beef hash legit? Could liver be banned on Meatless Tuesdays? Could White Castle operate on the meatless days? Reporters from Room 9 (the press room) asked about the status of liverwurst. And more. New Yorkers’ reports of meat being served meatless days—Gramercy Tavern, Danbe’s Steakhouse, Tessie’s Old Vienna, Civic Square Foods (not very civic minded—all were referred to Commissioner Henry Brundage at Markets.

Reliably, the Catholics again wrote to urge Meatless Wednesdays, not Tuesdays. But that did not gain much traction.

World War II ended on September 2, 1945 as did the rationing of meat and other products. On September 16, Mayor LaGuardia went on the air to announce the end of the Meatless Days and praise the reputable hotels and restaurants for their cooperation during the crisis.

When Johnny Came Marching Home to Cheers

The only good thing about wars is that they end.

Because America and our allies were victorious in what some call our two “Good Wars” —World War I and World War II—ticker tape parades, elaborate welcome home events for our soldiers and the generals who led them, and often riotous celebrations followed.

To commemorate this year’s Veterans Day, we took a peek into the Municipal Archives, which holds pictures of the celebrations—from throngs of New Yorkers celebrating Armistice Day on Wall Street on November 11, 1918, Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the Allied Commander in World War I, during a ticker tape parade in October 1921, raucous celebrations in Times Square and Central Park at the end of both wars and many proud, patriotic parades.

The Archives also holds letters, telegrams and memos to and from Mayor John Hylan at the end of WWI and correspondence from Mayor Fiorello La Guardia on the intricate planning for what he hoped would be respectful and prayerful celebrations.

This being New York, the correspondence is not without some political infighting, intrigue and squabbles about money, particularly at the end of WWI.

Parade of the 77th Division, Major General Alexander, commanding the Division, passing through the Victory Arch at Madison Square, at the head of the parade, May 6, 1919. Photograph by Underwood & Underwood, Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

On October 29, 1918, with victory at hand, a Manhattan lawyer named John J. Hetrick wrote a letter to Hylan asking him to “give thought to a memorial of the deeds and valor and patriotism of its citizens,” and urged him, as chief executive of New York City, to “lead the way and not allow the war work of New York to be immortalized in a fragmentary way.”

Hylan soon appointed Deputy Police Commissioner Rodman Wanamaker to oversee construction of a temporary Memorial Arch to “welcome home the demobilized troops.” The city undertook a competition for ideas, ranging from the Arch, to a Victory Monument at Madison Square to a “Liberty Bridge” connecting New York and New Jersey.

But trouble quickly erupted when the mayor appointed William Randolph Hearst, the king of “yellow journalism,” who had close ties to Germany before the war and opposed U.S. entry into the fighting. The mayor was soon deluged with letters from several hundred prominent New Yorkers, including Henry Morgenthau Sr., who refused to serve on the committee, largely because Hearst would be on it.

Letter to Mayor Hylan declining appointment to the Reception Committee due to the presence of Mr. Hearst. Mayor Hylan Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

One letter, from Richard Henry Gatling, declared, that normally he would be honored to serve on the committee, but refused because, “His Honor the mayor has made the shameful mistake of appointing the unspeakable Hearst as a member."

Another, from lawyer Henry Clay, declared: “It was an insult to both the citizens of this city and the returning soldiers to give a prominent place on such a committee to a man of the character of Mr. Hearst.”

In any event, a Welcome Home Committee was formed, 50 memorials were eventually built and parades were held before crowds of up to 250,000 people, including ones for the 27th Infantry Division on March 25, 1919; for the 332nd Division on April 21, 1919 for the 332nd Division, and on May 6, 1919 for the 77th Infantry Division.

Parade of the 27th Division, Major General John F. O'Ryan and Brig. General Palmer E. Pierce reviewing the parade, 108th Infantry passing, March 25, 1919. Photograph by International Newsreel / Film Service, Inc., Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

332nd Infantry coming up Fifth Avenue on their way to the North Meadow in Central Park, April 21, 1919. Photograph by Underwood & Underwood, Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Later that year, on September 8, 1919, General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Force, arrived in New York on a confiscated German ship, the Leviathan, to be honored for his leadership. His motorcade went under that temporary Victory Arch at Madison Square at 24th Street and Fifth Avenue. And on September 10, he mounted his horse and led a parade of soldiers from the First Division to Central Park, where a crowd of 50,000 people greeted him. That evening, he was honored at a 1,600-guest banquet at the Waldorf Astoria.

General Pershing welcomed home (left to right: Police Commissioner Richard Enright, General Peyton C. Marsh, General John J. Pershing and Secretary of War Newton D. Baker), September 8, 1919. Photograph by International Newsreel / Film Service, Inc., Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

General John J. Pershing, passing the Official Reviewing Stand in front of the Museum of Art and saluting Secretary of War Newton Baker and General March, Chief of Staff, September 10, 1919. Photograph by Underwood & Underwood, Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The city also sponsored and paid for a variety of welcome home dinners for the troops at prominent restaurants, including the Astor, the Netherland, the Yale Club and the Knickerbocker. The archives holds letters from some of the restaurants claiming the city short-changed them.

A DIFFERENT WAR, A DIFFERENT TONE

The greetings and welcome-home plans for the end of WWII, under Mayor LaGuardia, were decidedly different. For one thing, almost all of those invited as sponsors accepted, including prominent people from the worlds of art, music, business, politics and the press—even though Hearst's son, William Randolph Hearst Jr., was on the official committee planning festivities for VE Day.

Mayor La Guardia took a solemn tone in all letters regarding plans for V-E Day, starting as early as nine months before victory was declared.

In an August, 2, 1944 letter to the secretary of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the mayor said City Hall and police were “fretful of wild and unbridled celebrations” and wanted to avoid a repeat of the “riotous celebrations” on Wall Street and around the City on Armistice Day in 1918.

Ticker Tape Parade for General Eisenhower, June 19, 1945. Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

On August 22, Walter White, secretary of the NAACP, suggested that the City hold “the biggest prayer service of thanksgiving in Central Park and perhaps in Prospect Park, ever held ... to remind all citizens of New York that their joy should find expression in thanksgiving rather than in drunkenness and vandalism.”

Two weeks later, La Guardia called White’s idea “a very splendid one and suggested the mall in Central Park. On September 9, a New York Times editorial called for a “thoughtful celebration rather to have people riot in the streets, throwing confetti and getting drunk.”

As the fall of Germany approached the City made plans for a thankful celebration in Central Park patriotic songs and musical performance.

When V-E finally arrived on May 8, 1945, the City erupted in both kinds of celebrations —two million people jammed Times Square, singing, dancing and drinking as confetti rained down on them and a huge replica of the Statue of Liberty. There were similar scenes on Wall Street, in the Garment District and in Rockefeller Center.

That night, La Guardia had his prayerful event, launched with a benediction from Episcopal Bishop William T. Manning and featuring musical performances, dramatic readings and a stirring speech from the mayor, which is in the archives, complete with handwritten edits.

It reads, in part: “The war has ended in Europe. There was no doubt as to the ultimate outcome. It was only a matter of fixing the day. This is not exactly a day of rejoicing. It is a day of great satisfaction. But there is still work to be done; there is still a great deal of fighting and dying yet ahead ... (But) it means that the evil forces of Nazism and Fascism are destroyed.”

Ticker Tape Parade for General Eisenhower, General Eisenhower, standing, waves at crowd from car (Mayor La Guardia seated), June 19, 1945. Mayors Reception Committee Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

It was just the beginning of the celebrations. On June 19, 1945, four million people—and a ticker tape parade—greeted General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander, who would be elected President a little more than six years later.

In January 1946, 13,000 men of the 82nd Airborne marched four miles up Fifth Avenue amid tanks and under flybys, and in March, 1946, Sir Winston Churchill got a ticker tape parade of his own.

Japan would fall three months after Europe, and similar celebrations were held in New York around the world. VJ Day would also yield perhaps the most famous of the time—Alfred Eisenstadt’s photograph of a Navy sailor kissing a woman in white in Times Square.

NYPD Surveillance Films

Over the last year, the Municipal Archives digitized more than 140 hours of 16mm surveillance-film footage created by the New York City Police Department (NYPD)’s photography unit between 1960 and 1980.

The entire collection is streaming on the Municipal Archives’ digital gallery. The Municipal Archives will host a special program to describe the process and offer a sampling of the films on November 7th, Public Safety Film: Digitized Content from the NYPD Surveillance Files.

National Association for the Advancement of Colored People and Brooklyn Board of Education; 110 Livingston Street [anti-segregation demonstration], June 18, 1963. New York Police Department surveillance films, NYC Municipal Archives.

The footage provides an extraordinary, never-before-seen visual record of one of the most tumultuous eras in American history. Among the highlights in the collection is footage of the first Earth Day march in 1970, a Nation of Islam rally, CORE and NAACP protests of segregation, Young Lords building occupations, early protests by gay-rights advocates, massive anti-war marches and demonstrations after the Kent State shootings in May 1970.

The Municipal Archives transferred the film from the NYPD photography unit in 2015 as part of a larger collection of photographic materials including glass, nitrate, acetate and polyester-base negatives and silver-gelatin prints. Many of these images are also available in the digital gallery.

The films were created by the NYPD photography unit. Staffed by police officers trained as both still and moving image photographers, the unit served all branches of the service. The film footage had been commissioned by the NYPD Bureau of Special Services and Investigations (BOSSI) to support their surveillance activities. Plainclothes police officers photographed some events clandestinely; others were filmed openly with movie-style cameras positioned next to police vehicles.

Anti-War Rally, 33rd Street and 7th Avenue, August 2, 1969. New York Police Department surveillance films, NYC Municipal Archives. By 1969, the Vietnam War had become a focal point for a wide array of social causes and concerns. Among the anti-war activists were supporters of the Black Panthers, the Gay Activists Alliance, Students for a Democratic Society, and more.


The NYPD’s surveillance of individuals and organizations perceived as enemies of the status quo dates back to early 1900s. At different periods, the focus was on anarchists, labor leaders, Nazi supporters, white supremacists, socialists, and communists. The film footage dates from the heyday of the BOSSI squad, during the 1960s and 1970s when they gathered intelligence on individuals and groups arrayed along the political spectrum, but particularly civil rights, anti-war and feminist activists. Their subjects included the Communist Party, Black Panthers, the Nation of Islam, the National Renaissance Party, and Youth Against War and Fascism. The footage captures the high point of the civil-rights movement and the diverse groups it inspired for black power and pride, the rights of women, gays and lesbians, and prisoners as well as the crusades against poverty, environmental degradation and the Vietnam War.

Not all of the footage is related to the NYPD’s surveillance activities. Some of the films provide straight-forward documentation of significant events. For example, the collection includes footage of President Richard Nixon walking behind Jacqueline Kennedy at the funeral for Robert F. Kennedy in June 1968.

This film footage is closely related to the historical paper records, often referred to as the “Handschu” files. That collection totals more than 500 cubic feet and spans 1955-1972. The hard copy files consist of materials created or acquired by Special Services during the infiltration and surveillance of individuals and groups. In a class-action federal suit, Barbara Handschu and other complainants sued the NYPD on the basis that the surveillance of their meetings and activities violated constitutionally-protected rights. In the 1985 resolution of the case the federal judge included guidelines for surveillance and investigations, and required that the Municipal Archives receive all of these records in order to determine if they have historical importance.

Digitization of the films was supported by a grant from the New York State Archives’ Local Government Records Management Improvement Fund. The films were scanned to create digital video files in .mov and .mp4 formats for master and access versions, respectively.

Wall Street [Union workers protest Mayor Lindsay's reaction to the “Hard Hat Riot”], May 11, 1970. New York Police Department surveillance films, NYC Municipal Archives. The Hard Hat Riots took place when 200 unionized construction workers violently broke up a Kent State shooting solidarity rally held by college and high school students in downtown Manhattan. This film depicts one of the many parades construction workers held in the days afterward, showing their support for President Nixon and their ire for Mayor Lindsay, who had condemned the actions of the rioters.

Mayor LaGuardia Speaks on Baseball

The following transcript is taken from a longer radio address Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia gave on WNYC on March 11, 1945. It differs somewhat from his actual address and has been edited for length and clarity. The history of baseball he offered omits the thriving African-American teams in the Negro League.

Baseball is an American game. I don’t know of anything that is more thoroughly and typically American than baseball. It was started a little over 100 years ago by Colonel Abner Doubleday. He devised the diagram of the bases and positions for players and named the game “baseball.” His first baseball diamond was laid out in 1839 in Cooperstown, in our state.

Mayor LaGuardia throwing out the ball at game 1 of the World Series, at Yankee Stadium, October 6, 1937. The New York Yankees beat the New York Giants 8 to 1. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1845, the first baseball club was organized in New York City and was known as the Knickerbocker Club. This club first drafted the code of rules for baseball. The first game of record played under these rules between the Knickerbocker Club and a picked team, which called itself The New York Club, was played in Hoboken, New Jersey, in 1846.

In 1854, there was a revision of the rules which provided specification for the size and the weight of the ball. In 1858, the first attempt at organization of the clubs was made as clubs were spreading to many Eastern cities. The National Association of Baseball Players embraced 16 clubs in New York City, and a well known New Yorker, W.H. Van Cott, was its first president.

In 1865 a convention was held in New York City at which 91 clubs were represented. In 1865 and 1866 professional baseball began to make its appearance and a conflict between amateurs and professionals developed. At that time, players did not derive their livelihood from baseball, but the more expert players accepted money from clubs to play on their teams. In 1866 we find the first pool selling and gambling and bribery by gamblers. This outraged the good element among the ballplayers and organizers of clubs and… it was nipped in the bud.

In 1868 the Cincinnati team was organized on what was known as semi-professional lines, but in 1869, the team was hired as an outright professional organization and made a successful tour of the United States, winning every game. Chicago next went professional and by 1870, the Amateur National Association of Baseball Players was abandoned. In 1871, the National Association of Professional Baseball Players was organized in New York City. It dissolved in 1876 when the National League came into existence on February 2, with 8 cities as member teams. Its first president was Morgan G. Bulkeley, rather colorless, but he was succeeded next year by William A. Hulbert, who started baseball history. He was admired by everyone for he was the first to expel for life four baseball players found guilty of dishonesty. From this time in 1877, confidence was established in professional baseball and Hulbert remained president until 1882.

B.P.O. Elks #841 Clambake, Midland Park, Grant City, Staten Island. Scenes from baseball game, August 24, 1921.

In 1882 the American Association was formed in cities, not members of the National League, but by 1891 the American was merged with the National League into a 12-club organization, having a monopoly of major league baseball. It continued this way until 1900 when its membership was reduced to 8 members [Boston, New York, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Chicago, St. Louis and Cincinnati].

In 1900 Charles A. Comiskey, owner of the St. Paul Club of the Western league obtained permission to put a club in Chicago. He wanted to expand to Baltimore and Washington, which had been abandoned by the National League, so gradually a new American League was formed and became a rival with a following equally as great as that of the National.

In 1903 an agreement between the two major leagues established the National Commission, a final court of resort for all organized baseball and a new system of government in the baseball world. The Commission was composed of three members, the President of the two leagues and a third, selected by the two, who became chairman. Decisions rendered by this National Commission, after a few years, provoked another controversy in baseball. After a scandal involving players who were charged with dishonest practices the Commission was abolished in November, 1920. It was replaced by a one-man authority who every American knows, Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, a federal judge who was elected Commissioner of baseball with jurisdiction over all clubs and leagues….

Mayor LaGuardia & Police Commissioner Valentine with children from the Police Athletic League at ball game, ca. 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor LaGuardia & Police Commissioner Valentine with children from the Police Athletic League at ball game, ca. 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Professional ball players regard their occupation highly. Men who win honors on the “diamond” are trained and disciplined. I would say that they have as great a responsibility to the public and to the children of our country as public officials. Temperance and clean habits are expected of all ball players, and late hours, over-eating, drinking, gambling and other forms of dissipation are strictly forbidden.

For several weeks before the opening of the season, the men are put through severe courses in physical training so that they may enter upon the serious work of the year in First Class condition. The manager of a team who hopes to defeat all other clubs in his league must see to it that his team is kept in fighting condition throughout the season. It takes work, work, work, as much as being a concert pianist.

These men who acquire fame on the diamond have the confidence of the people. You all remember our Lou Gehrig. When he was stricken and could not play, you may recall I appointed him a Commissioner on the Parole Board. It is the duty of the Commissioner to get information from men who have slipped and have been sentenced to the penitentiary. Sometimes it is very hard to get the truth. Well, you know, Lou Gehrig never had any trouble at all. When there was doubt as to the truth of the statements of any of the prisoners seeking parole, they would refer the case to Lou and Lou would question the prisoner. He would say, “Are you telling the truth?” Invariably the answer would be, “Oh, I would not lie to you, Lou, I mean Mr. Gehrig, I would not lie to you.” And they would not, because he represented something clean, something decent….

It is interesting to note that before Judge Landis was appointed, the Ex-President of the United States, William Howard Taft, had been consulted and considered whether or not he would take the Commissionership – he was quite a baseball fan you know. Under Commissioner Landis, strict rules have been laid down and rigidly enforced. Numbers of instances might be cited where betting syndicates have been fined and ordered away from cities where World Series were being played.

Yankee Stadium, Yankees on the field during game, probably the 1936 World Series. Cosmo-Sileo Co., NYC Municipal Archives Collection.

The last scandal, which resulted in the appointment of Judge Landis, was rather sensational. Here is a touching editorial from the New York Times of October 3rd, 1924 which is entitled “The Baseball Scandal,” and reads as follows:

“We should all like to believe that professional baseball is a clean sport. Patrons of the game are sensitive about its integrity. When the scandal in connection with the championship series between the Cincinnati’s and the Chicago’s came like a bolt out of a clear sky in 1919 nothing was more pathetic than the appeal of a little boy to one of the players involved. ‘Joe, you didn’t do it, say it is not true!’ Unhappily it was only too true. And now, on the eve of the annual struggle between the champions of the big leagues Commissioner Landis is obliged to announce the guilt of two members of the New York National team, against whom charges of attempted bribery has been proved, and to cast them into the outer darkness of ineligibility….”

You heard about the 10 million Americans who attended the game, I said that was but a small percentage of the real baseball fans of our country. Oh, I would say that at the twilight hour, after sundown in the summertime, and before dark, 40, 50, or maybe 60 million Americans are playing ball – that is, they are playing over again the games that were played that afternoon – yes, perhaps, the gentleman in his study and in his comfortable leather chair, or the farmer on the back porch in Iowa or Nebraska, with his suspenders hanging down, his chair tilted back; or the gentleman on the veranda of the country club; or the gentleman on the fire-escapes of an East Side tenement, or in the city drug stores or out in the forest or in the mines, are listening to the radio….

Crowd in the bleachers (World Series 1936). WPA Federal Writers’ Project Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

At every supper table and in the family life of our country, the game is played over again. Every family divides, each has his favorite. There is always someone in the family for one club, another boosting another club. We have a Dodger fan right in our own family. I remember when the Yanks were playing the Dodgers, I told my children, “Now listen, remember both teams are New York teams, so please behave and be natural and quiet. We must be neutral, they are both New York City teams.” “You promise?” “Yes.” “You promise?” “Yes.” So we went out to Brooklyn and sure enough something happened, when the Dodgers were up, it was a two bagger I think, and Eric [LaGuardia’s son] goes Wheeee. I said, “Eric, didn’t I tell you to be neutral?” he said, “Yes, I’m neutral for the Bums.”

…So now, let us get ready. Start to clear your throats for your favorite team, because pretty soon, the whole country will hear, “Play Ball.” Patience and Fortitude.

Thanks to Andy Lanset of WNYC Radio for the audio clip, the full broadcast is available here.

The Empire State Plane Crash, July 28, 1945

A dense fog crept across the slate gray New York City sky on Saturday July 28, 1945. The war in Europe was largely over, V-E Day had been declared about seven weeks earlier, and the fall of Japan was near. The city was going about its business shortly before 10 a.m., when a US Army bomber plane carrying a pilot and two other men from Bedford, Massachusetts to LaGuardia Airport made a wrong turn and slammed into the north side of the Empire State Building about 935 feet above the street.

The building topped 1,200 feet, so the plane, which was going more than 200 miles per hour, rammed through the 78th and 79th floors with tremendous force, sending an elevator plummeting 75 floors and triggering three separate heavy fires.

Empire State Building Disaster: Interior, 12:40 pm; 79th Floor, showing hole in wall where plane crashed, July 28, 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The pilot and the two other men in the plane—including a Navy machinist from Brooklyn—were killed instantly and 11 people in the building or on the ground died. The crash triggered a brief panic, launched several investigations and drew both praise and condemnation of the City’s feisty Mayor, Fiorello La Guardia.

Telegrams, letters, secret communications between the City and Washington, and a detailed and heavily-illustrated Fire Department report in the Municipal Library and Archives recount the events of that dark day.

At approximately 9:50 a.m., the pilot of the doomed B-25 Mitchell Aircraft, William F. Smith Jr., radioed the La Guardia Tower saying the plane was about 15 miles south of LaGuardia and asked about the weather at nearby Newark Airport. Following procedure, the LaGuardia Tower told the pilot to call Newark for the local weather.

“Within two minutes, this plane showed up directly southeast of LaGuardia and (LaGuardia Tower chief Operator Victor) Barden believing it intended to land, gave it runway, wind direction and velocity,” the memo read. “The pilot stated he wanted to go to Newark.”

Empire State Building Disaster: Interior, 79th Fl. 12:55 pm, July 28, 1945. Hole in south wall where plane crashed into elevators. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Airways Traffic Control radioed that the weather at Newark was 600 feet ceiling and said the plane should land at LaGuardia. Since it was a bomber, the tower contacted Army Advisory, which said visibility was a little better than that and the tower asked the pilot what he wanted to do.

Smith, a West Point graduate who had completed 42 missions in Europe during the war, made the fateful decision to proceed to Newark. The tower then cleared him to land at Newark, but noted they were “unable to see the top of the Empire State Building” and warned the pilot that if he did not have three miles of forward visibility, he should return to LaGuardia.

But visibility was near zero and the pilot apparently became disoriented, turned the wrong way after skirting the Chrysler Building on 42nd Street and almost immediately slammed into the north side of the Empire State Building. The first fire alarm was pulled at 9:52 a.m. and Mayor LaGuardia quickly rushed to the scene amid arriving fire trucks, ambulances and police cars.

Empire State Building Disaster: Interior, W side of 79th Fl, facing E; 12:30 pm, July 28, 1945. Firemen walking through rubble in rear. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

An extensive Fire Department report issued by Commissioner Patrick Walsh on August 21, 1945, picks up the story, reporting that the plane hit between the 78th and 79th floors with such tremendous force that it made an 18-by-20-foot hole in what was then the tallest building in the world. One engine flew through the south side of the building and landed a block away atop the roof of a factory on West 33rd St. The other engine plummeted down an elevator shaft and triggered a fire that lasted more than 40 minutes.

“The wreckage of a giant aircraft that had carried a large supply of gasoline and tanks of oxygen giving added furor to the blasting fire … scattered death and flames over a wide area,” Walsh wrote. “Elevator service to the scene of the fire, some 935 feet above the street, had been disrupted. Parts of a hurtling motor and other sections of the plane that passed entirely through the structure had brought fire to the roof and top floor of a thirteen-story building across the street from the scene of the original tragedy. A third fire had developed in the basement and sub-basement of the Empire Building itself.”

Empire State Building Disaster: Interior, S corner, 79th Fl., facing N; 12:05 pm, July 28, 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Walsh wrote that the fires were brought under control in 19 minutes and were extinguished within 40 minutes. But, he added, “life hazard was very severe. Persons had been trapped on the 78th and many more on the 79th floor. Persons on the 80th and other floors were exposed to considerable smoke and heat. There was a dangerous possibility of panic among the people in the building.”

Empire State Building Disaster: Basement, 2:40 pm, looking NW, July 28, 1945. Elevator pit, parts of plane. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In a letter accompanying his report, Walsh praised the Mayor for getting to the scene quickly and making sure that accurate information got out to the public to prevent widespread panic. “Your presence at the scene with its attendant acceptance of the risks and rigors of the situation was very impressive and gave testimony to the cooperation that this department has received from you during past years.”

Miraculously, elevator operator Betty Lou Oliver survived the 75-story elevator shaft plunge, in what the Guinness Book of Records would later proclaim “The Longest Fall Survived in an Elevator.” Soon after the horrific accident, as firefighters were still rushing up to the 77th floor to fight the blaze, Army Lt. General Ira Eaker, Deputy Commander of the Army Air Forces, fired off a hand-delivered note to Mayor LaGuardia “to express the concern of the Army Air Forces for the unfortunate accident which occurred at the Empire State Building this morning.”

He vowed to cooperate with city and federal agencies “to ensure a complete and thorough investigation of the circumstances … It is our keenest desire that everything humanly possible be done for those who have suffered in this unfortunate and regrettable accident and we shall leave nothing undone which lies in our power to that end.”

Empire State Building Disaster: Interior, S corner, 79th Fl. Offices; charred bodies on desk in background.; 11:50 am, July 28, 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The next day’s papers—from coast-to-coast—blared the story across their front pages. The New York Daily News story began: “A fog-blind B-25 Mitchell bomber, groping its way southward across Manhattan to Newark Airport crashed into the 79th-floor of the 1,250-foot Empire State Building … turning the world’s tallest building into a torch in the sky high above 34th St. and Fifth Avenue.” That morning the Mayor took to the airwaves with his Talk to the People program, offered condolences to the families of all the victims and read Lt. Gen. Eaker’s letter aloud. (LT2545)

The Archives holds a July 31 story in the Daily Mirror that lent an eerie quality to the story. It started: “The charred remains of the dead … in the Empire State Building tragedy were identified yesterday while souvenir seekers and looters had a ghoulish field day among the debris.” The story said looters invaded the 79th floor offices of the National Catholic Welfare Conference and stole charred stationary and $400 in cash. The thief dropped a bag holding $8,000 in Travelers Checks when police spotted him and gave chase. The owner of the Hicckock Belt Company told cops someone stole $300 worth of belts, suspenders and wallets.

Empire State Building Disaster: 34th Street, showing parts of plane on N side of street; 1:20 pm, July 28, 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Despite the damage, much of the building was open for business on the Monday two days after the accident. The crash also led to creation of the Federal Tort Claims Act and brought calls from military and aviation experts for better training and safety rules. Brigadier General Robert Travis blamed a rash of accidents on a “lack of knowledge of equipment, lack of discipline and plain bullheadedness.”

Mayor LaGuardia added to the furor over the accident when he told the Herald Tribune he thought the pilot was flying too low, given the number of skyscrapers in Midtown. In response to one critical letter to the mayor, Goodhue Livingston Jr., LaGuardia’s executive secretary, noted that if the pilot “had maintained the proper altitude when flying over Manhattan the accident would not have occurred. Unfortunately, some of our Army Pilots who have been coming into our municipal fields during this war emergency period have on occasion have [sic] not maintained the proper safe altitude.”

The Empire State Building as it was in 1940, with a much shorter midtown. Department of Finance Tax Photo Collection.

The Empire State Building as it was in 1940, with a much shorter midtown. Department of Finance Tax Photo Collection.

An August 13 letter from H.H. Arnold, Commanding General of the Army Air Forces, backed up LaGuardia. Arnold said there was no evidence the plane had malfunctioned, and he clearly pinned the blame on the pilot.

 “It appears that the pilot used poor judgment,” Arnold wrote, adding that Smith did not maintain the altitude and did not have the minimum visibility to go to Newark. “He had been warned by the LaGuardia Tower that the top of the Empire State Building could not be seen. Therefore, it may be assumed that he was mistaken in his establishment of his position with respect to the Lower Manhattan area.” Arnold said the military had taken measures to avoid a similar accident in the future by better communication between the military and air traffic control and by establishing local traffic routes for Army aircraft in the metropolitan area.

Unfortunately, less than a year later it happened again. On May 20, 1946, an U.S. Army Air Forces Beechcraft C-45F Expediter slammed into the north side of the 925-foot-high building at 40 Wall Street in a heavy fog. All five crew members were killed.

Columbus Day 1944: Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia’s broadcasts to Italy during World War II

Mayor LaGuardia speaking at reviewing stand, at the Columbus Day Parade, October 12, 1943. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Between July 1942 and May 1945 Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia delivered weekly radio broadcasts in Italian via shortwave radio to Italy. This was a secretive undertaking organized by the Office of War Information (OWI), designed to keep Italians informed of Allied activities during the war, and to offer encouragement and hope during the period of German occupation. The recently-digitized Italian and English transcripts of the broadcasts at the New York Municipal Archives (NYMA) open a window into issues facing Italy during the war and the Mayor’s unsparing views of Hitler and Mussolini. The audio recordings reside at the Library of Congress; however a few have been made available for listening. The talks of October 1944, seventy-five years ago, document a critical turning point for Italy in the war and in US–Italian relations. The Mayor had not broadcast for nine weeks, reflecting mounting Italian-American skepticism regarding the Allies’ treatment of Italy. President Franklin D. Roosevelt was facing re-election and needed the Italian-American vote. By forging an alliance between rival groups in New York City and striking a deal with the British, President Roosevelt’s promise of aid and recognition to Italy succeeded in making Columbus Day 1944 an unprecedented success, ushering in the iconic Fifth Avenue parade and the return of the Italian flag. LaGuardia’s return to the airwaves in October 1944 captures the drama of these events.

Major LaGuardia with soldiers in Italy in 1918. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

LaGuardia already enjoyed a national reputation in Italy for his speeches. Roughly twenty-five years earlier, as an army captain during the First World War, he spoke in Italian at La Scala in Milan and at the Coliseum in Rome, encouraging Italians to support the war effort. These speeches are well-documented with much coverage in both the Italian and English press. The WWII broadcasts, in contrast, were a secretive undertaking, with background material provided to LaGuardia by the State Department on Italian fascism and anti-Semitism during the German occupation of Italy. Italian fascists had been broadcasting to Italian-Americans in the US and the US wanted Italians to hear anti-fascist sentiments from an American. Mayor LaGuardia, a vocal anti-fascist, was actively pursued by the newly-formed OWI in the spring of 1942. Correspondence uncovered at the Municipal Archives reveals the Mayor’s close working relationship with the officials of the OWI, then based in New York City. There was agreement that these broadcasts were not to be publicized.

LaGuardia would dictate his talks in Italian about one week in advance of each planned broadcast. The pencil notes are his corrections, and the sketch is his as well. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The transmission was a complicated technical undertaking: LaGuardia would dictate his roughly fifteen-minute talk in Italian about one week in advance of each planned broadcast.  His OWI-employed translator, Elma Baccanelli, would then translate the talk into English and submit it to State Department censors for final approval. The final Italian transcript was then typed onto 5x8 cards and read by the Mayor on Saturday afternoon at the NBC studio in mid-town. It was sent by short-wave to BBC London and then converted to medium-wave for better reception in Italy. The talks were generally broadcast on Sunday nights around 9 pm in Italy.

The size of the audience is not known because it was illegal to listen, however, judging by the volume of letters he received (also at the NYMA), and the negative comments generated by the Nazi and Fascist press, his talks were listened to by many. I personally know this because of the many Italians I have met who remember listening to these broadcasts as children, often in a basement or a closet, and recall the experience with great emotion. These broadcasts were a lifeline of hope for the Italians. The language is simple and direct, a hallmark of LaGuardia, as he exhorts the Italians to resist the Germans, and he declares his unqualified love for Italy and confidence in an Allied victory. 

Some of the many letters Mayor LaGuardia received from Italy. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

A note from Elma Baccanelli, LaGuardia’s translator, in August 1943 informing him that his directive to the Italian Navy to help end the stalemate was removed by State Department censors.

Early in the process LaGuardia formed a productive and trusting relationship with Elma Baccanelli, an Italian-American employed by the OWI. Notes from the Municipal Archives show that she gently offered wording suggestions and had the unpleasant task of informing the Mayor when his words were censored. There were three noteworthy episodes of censorship during the three years of broadcasting, and the correspondence with the State Department, the OWI, and even President Roosevelt, reveals a tension between classified war plans and the Mayor’s desire to speak directly and frankly to the Italian people. In general, the reasons for censorship focused on perceived or suggested “instructions for revolt,” which LaGuardia never seemed to understand given that it was wartime. Rather than acquiescing to the censors, the Mayor simply cancelled his planned broadcasts on these occasions, claiming “there was nothing left to say after all the cuts.”

Mayor Laguardia must have complained to friends in Washington about the censorship, because on September 7, 1943 President Roosevelt sent LaGuardia this short, cryptic note defending the censorship. On September 9th the main Allied invasion force landed in Salerno, Italy. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The broadcasts present a chronology of the war from the viewpoint of an Italian-American anti-fascist. His use of simple language and repeated themes of encouragement, persistence, and affinity with the partisans, provide some insight into his target audience. He was not speaking to the prominenti of German-occupied Milan or Turin (although they listened). He was directing his words to Allied-occupied Southern Italy, where most Italian-Americans had originated.

His talks encompassed three Columbus Day holidays (1942-1944). Each of these three holidays is acknowledged. However, it is the Columbus Day of 1944 that stands out as a turning point in the influence of Italian-Americans on US policy towards Italy. While the Mayor took issue with the censor’s rulings and had previously cancelled a few broadcasts in a huff, between August 6 and October 8, 1944 he went “on-strike” and did not give any talks.

In the August 6, 1944 transcript he expressed his frustration that Italy had not been recognized as an ally by the United Nations despite the liberation of Rome by the Allies on June 5, 1944:

Here in America there is a great desire for news of the Italian patriots. Really, what do you call them in Italy: patriots or partisans? In any case, this activity of the patriots in the occupied territory and everything they do is of the greatest interest to all the Americans. They know how difficult direct action is where the Nazis are, the great peril and risk the patriots face. Therefore- this great admiration.

While we are speaking of the great activity of the patriots—what are the diplomats doing? I think it is time for the Italian situation to be clarified and for the United States to recognize Italy’s position; so that the material, economic, and political reconstruction may begin. After all, are we not friends? I think we are friends. Therefore why not say so?

Perhaps next week I will not speak. You know that unless you have something to say, it is difficult to speak. Only the tenor at the opera sings to hear his own voice; I can speak only when I have really something to say.

This last sentence is not meant for you Italians: do I make myself clear?

Therefore until I have something definite…this is your friend La Guardia saying, Courage! Forward!

The English language draft of LaGuardia’s October 8, 1944 speech. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

During the nine weeks of radio silence, a series of events unfolded that broke the diplomatic log jam for Italy. President Roosevelt, facing re-election and increasingly aware of the dire economic situation in Italy, worked with leaders of the Italian-American community in New York, bridging the rivalries between the pro-fascist Generoso Pope, publisher of the major Italian-language newspaper, Il Progresso, and the anti-fascist Luigi Antonini, head of the Italian American Labor Council (IALC), to assure Italian-Americans that he would provide Italy with all possible aid.

The British were reluctantly willing to work with the US regarding Italy. Following the Quebec Conference of September 12-14, 1944, a Roosevelt-Churchill statement on Italy was issued on September 26, 1944 giving Italy diplomatic representation and access to limited United Nations Relief and Recovery Administration (UNRRA) aid. This was not enough to satisfy Italian-American demands. Roosevelt then personally intervened with the UNRRA General Assembly, meeting in Montreal, to grant Italy $50 million in supplies. Pope published the President’s letter granting these concessions in his newspaper. Antonini arranged for the IALC to present FDR with its Four Freedoms Award in gratitude for the efforts in Italy.

American G.I.s and local children in front of a wall painted with “Fiorello LaGuardia,” and a crown victory symbol, Pozzvoli, Italy, 1945. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Pope was named the grand marshal of the 1944 Columbus Day Parade in New York City, the first year of the march up Fifth Avenue, coinciding with his founding of the Columbus Citizen’s Foundation, the sponsor of every Columbus Day Parade since. US Attorney General Francis Biddle was designated as Roosevelt’s representative at the parade and for the first time since 1941, permission was granted for Italian and American flags to be displayed together at the event.

Yet, there was still more to do before the October 12th festivities began. Roosevelt’s office issued a special statement on October 4, 1944 listing the specific American actions aiding Italy (“Present Problems in Italy”). On October 10, he released another statement implementing a troop pay credits program and reiterating the pledge to provide basic economic requirements for Italy’s reconstruction. Finally, on October 26, 1944, the resumption of full diplomatic relations with Italy was announced with the appointment of Alexander Kirk as US Ambassador to Italy. Ironically, Roosevelt went on to win the election without a strong Italian-American vote.

Mayor LaGuardia marching at head of Columbus Day Parade, flanked and followed by policemen, October 12, 1943. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

When LaGuardia returned to the airwaves on October 8, 1944, he was jubilant:

This is your friend LaGuardia speaking.

I have not spoken to you for nine weeks now. The last time, you will recall, I promised that I would not speak again unless I had something to say. I was really fed up that time. But now I can tell you that the statement made by our President and by Prime Minister Churchill on September 26 was just what I was waiting for. The statement says, among other things:

“We believe we should give encouragement to those Italians who are standing for political rebirth in Italy, and are completing the destruction of the evil fascist system. We wish to afford the Italians a greater opportunity to aid in the defeat of our common enemies…”

“The British High Commissioner in Italy will assume the additional title of Ambassador. The United States representative in Rome already holds that rank. The Italian government will be invited to appoint direct representatives to Washington and London.”

He goes on to say:

It is well to have ambassadors but the people cannot eat ambassadors, if the people are hungry. Therefore these promises must very soon be followed by relief.

And then again on October 15th:

I am happy that the events of the past week give me the opportunity to speak to you again today. Our President has announced that the Italian government will be credited in America for the dollar equivalent of the occupation lire issued in Italy and used by us and by our troops. This is the foundation of Italian credit in America. It will make easier the re-establishment of a commercial balance between the two countries.

And, concluding:

Thursday, October 12, 1944 we commemorated the discovery of America by our Christopher Columbus. It was truly a great day. The thoughts of the American people were turned towards Italy-towards poor, suffering Italy, and heartening statements were made by our President, our government, and various authoritative persons. They demonstrate clearly that Italy’s condition is well understood and that there is a real desire to help and remedy the sad plight in which she finds herself. These statements, made on Thursday, Columbus Day, will live forever and become part—either of our history or of our literature. If they are merely statements dressed up in fine language, they will live in literature.

LaGuardia continued speaking weekly until May 1945 when the Allies’ mission was complete and Italy was fully recognized by the UN. He then made sure Italy’s reconstruction continued when he assumed the role of Director General for UNRRA (1946-47) and personally supervised the delivered aid.

Katherine D. LaGuardia, MD, MPH

klaguardia@laguardiafoundation.org

Chair, Fiorello H. LaGuardia Foundation

Mayor LaGuardia surrounded by a crowd while visiting Rome, August 10, 1946. Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Sources:

Transcripts and Correspondence Mayor LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives, 3581-3582 (boxes 219 &220).

James E. Miller Prologue 1981: Politics of Relief: The Roosevelt Administration and the Reconstruction of Italy, 1943-44 (pp. 193-208)

US Department of State: United States and Italy, 1936-1946: Documentary Record