On the night of Feb. 15, 1898, the Battleship Maine — which had been sent to Havana, Cuba to rescue U.S. citizens caught up in a Cuban insurrection against their colonial rulers (Spain) — famously exploded and 266 U.S. sailors lost their lives. It was and is unclear to this day exactly what caused the ship to explode; at the time a Spanish mine or torpedo was suspected but today experts tend to believe an engine blew up. No matter the cause, it was enough for the Americans and war was declared on April 21, 1898
On April 24, 1898, Gov. Hazen Pingree called up the Michigan National Guard for service in the Spanish-American War. While only three Michigan men died in combat in Cuba, 698 died of diseases including malaria and yellow fever.
Crowds line the streets in Detroit as soldiers from the Michigan National Guard march to Union Depot for their departure to Camp Eaton near Brighton to prepare for the Spanish-American War in 1898.
Michigan converted its National Guard regiments, first established for the Civil War, into volunteer regiments: the Michigan 31st, 32nd, 33rd, 34th and 35th. The 33rd and 34th were the only ones to see action. Each regiment was divided into three battalions, and then subdivided into companies A through M, each containing about 80 men.
Enormous crowds described as reaching 100,000 people mobbed downtown Detroit for the send-off. People were held back by horse-mounted police as young volunteers in new uniforms marched down Randolph to Jefferson, and then up Woodward. About 700 Detroiters were mustered into the 34th Regiment, Companies A through H. Families and friends called out to the volunteers as they marched by and marching bands played “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”
“It was a sight never to be forgotten,” described the Detroit Free Press on April 27, 1898. “From business windows [we] looked down on a surging sea of people to which there flowed as between living banks a steady current of blue, the men of the Michigan National Guard. … Rarely in the memory of recent generations has there appeared such an inspiring spectacle as was presented by these soldiers and the crowd that bid them God-speed. Cheer upon cheer arose from the multitudes until the air was thunderous with shouting, and the music of the bands was drowned in universal applause.”
If nothing else is remembered about the Spanish American War it is the battle cry, “Remember the Maine!” On that day in 1898 the banner “Remember the Maine!” was everywhere in Detroit. There was a second part to the phrase that is now forgotten: “Remember the Maine! To hell with Spain!”
Michigan recruits at Camp Eaton
Days after war was declared the U.S. Army and Gov. Pingree selected Island Lake near Brighton for its regimental camp, dubbed Camp Eaton; when full, Camp Eaton held more than 4,000 raw recruits.
All arrived by trains from different regions and cities of Michigan, from the Upper Peninsula to Detroit, each train festooned with a “Remember the Maine” banner. One battalion of the 31st regiment sported new blankets with bouquets of flowers pinned to them by the ladies of their town. The new soldiers lived eight to a tent, drilled daily and learned sentry duty; reveille came at 5:30 a.m. and taps sounded at 10:30 p.m. Visitors, especially fretting mothers and fathers, came to check on their sons; many demanded to retrieve them or insisted that their son get better accommodations, which were respectfully ignored.
The new soldiers were paid $1.25 per month with 75 cents for “sustenance.” For entertainment, boxing matches were held as well as band concerts provided by Detroit’s 32nd infantry. The recruits were allowed to visit Brighton on Saturday night until 25 were arrested for drunkenness by the Brighton police and leaders ended that activity.
Governor Pingree visits Camp Eaton.
Governor Pingree was a true friend of these young soldiers both politically and personally, buying better boots and uniforms for his boys. He was a regular visitor on his white horse and followed them even as they shipped to other parts of the U.S.
The army’s plan was to send the new recruits to southern camps, such as Chickamauga Park, Ga., or Tampa Bay, Fla., to acclimate the northern recruits before sending them into the tropical Cuban hillsides.
On their last day before shipping out, 1st Sergeant William Cooper from the 31st Regiment, Company A, of Ann Arbor, recorded his experiences for the local paper, the Ann Arbor Argus Democrat:
“May 15th came and with it thousands of friends of the regiment. They came by train loads, by vehicles of every description, some came on wheels, some walked and all brought their lunch baskets with them, and soon the beautiful grounds were dotted with family groups who were lunching together there perhaps for the last time. … Sweethearts came for a last kiss and a look that meant everything. The day wore away and the crowd dispersed.”
At midnight their serious work began as Cooper and the others quietly boarded the trains for Chickamauga Park. He recalled only one figure remained to bid them goodbye, an old Civil War veteran who shook every young man’s hand in Company A as he wiped away tears. As Cooper observed ominously, “He had been through it all himself for four years, and he — well, he knew.”
The trains of Michigan soldiers chugged through Ohio greeted by cheers, flag-waving children, and marching bands at nearly every station, as they were the first regiment to pass through the state. Cooper reported:
“In Cincinnati our reception was tumultuous. Thousands of people crowded around our trains and during the time that we remained there, between 5 and 6 p.m., the bells and whistles of hundreds of factories, locomotives and steamboats kept up a continual din. It was a deafening welcome.”
The 31st camped at Camp Thomas, Chicamauga Park, where they encountered a serious problem with typhoid fever. They would be sent to Cuba after the fighting to help maintain order on the island. The 32nd Regiment went to Tampa, Fla., and the 35th remained in Island Lake until Sept. 14, when they were sent to Camp Meade in Pennsylvania.
The 33rd and 34th regiments were shipped to Camp Alger, near Falls Church, Va., then on to Tampa where they boarded transport ships the Harvard and Paris, to be sent to Cuba to fight.
For the rest of the story, read Bill Loomis’s article.
Sources:
Michigan History
Bill Loomis, “‘Remember the Maine!’ Michigan men fight in the Spanish-American War”, Detroit News, January 5, 2014.
For more information about the Spanish-American War, see Crucible of Empire: The Spanish-American War, a History Tube documentary (116 minutes).
The first tank delivered from Detroit’s newest and largest defense plant was an M3, which weighed 30 tons and was produced at a rapid pace during World War II. Officials from both the Chrysler Corporation and the American military gathered in Warren, Michigan, to witness a demonstration in which the new tank fired its weapons, crashed through a telephone pole and destroyed a house. Due to its impressive production of weapons and vehicles needed for the fighting, the city of Detroit was often referred to as the “Arsenal of Democracy” during the war. Indeed, many historians have since demonstrated that the course of the war and its outcome were both significantly affected by the large production rates which were achieved in Detroit. By the end of World War II the Detroit Tank Arsenal produced more than twenty-two thousand tanks.
The M-3 Grant tanks were used by the British to fight the Germans and Italians in North Africa. Chrysler also made the Sherman tank, and was one of the primary military suppliers for the Allied war effort.
A Chrysler factory builds M-3 tanks during World War II.
For more information see
State of War: Michigan in WWII / Alan Clive. Ann Arbor : University of Michigan Press, c1979.
Detroit’s wartime industry : arsenal of democracy / Michael W.R. Davis. Charleston, SC : Arcadia Pub., c2007.
Ann M. Bos and Randy R. Talbot, “Enougn and On Time : The Story of the Detroit Arsenal“, Michigan History, March/April 2001.
Michigan Historical Calendar, courtesy of the Clarke Historical Library at Central Michigan University.
Bystanders near the Straits of Mackinac surely witnessed something remarkable on April 24, 1959.
That’s when Air Force Capt. John S. Lappo, a native of Muskegon, interrupted a calm Friday afternoon in the region by spontaneously flying a state-of-the-art Boeing B-47 jet underneath the Mackinac Bridge.
On this day in 1959, U.S. Air Force Captain John S. Lappo flew a RB-47E under the Mackinac Bridge. He was not permitted to fly for the airforce after that, but continued to serve for a total of thirty years. He retired with honors as a lieutenant colonel. He passed away in 2003.
According to an in-depth account of ordeal written by Danny K. Shepherd and posted by www.north-lights.com, Capt. Lappo and his crew were returning from a routine nighttime simulated bombing and celestial navigation mission when they emerged near the Mackinac Bridge.
Capt. Lappo, a veteran of countless dangerous missions, made a seemingly instant decision to fly the massive bomber underneath the bridge with just 155 feet of clearance.
Traveling at 425 mph with the help of his crew, Lappo navigated the plane above the whitecaps and emerged on the other side unscathed. He was later asked why he attempted such a risky stunt, according to Shepherd.
“Why do men climb mountains? Or what motivates them to go into space? It’s just a sense of adventure that some men have and some don’t,” he is quoted as saying in Shepherd’s article.
“I’ve always wanted to fly under a big bridge. I thought it would be the Golden Gate.”
The stunt was initially unreported but news eventually reached military brass. Unsurprisingly, the Air Force wasn’t thrilled with Lappo unnecessarily putting its expensive piece of military equipment at risk.
On August 10, 1959 it was preordained that he would be found guilty as charged at a general court-martial. He was accused of violating Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
Specifically Air Force regulation 60-16, according to Shepherd. At that time, it stated, “Except during take-off and landing, aircraft will not be flown at less than 500 feet above the ground or water.”
Despite the court ruling, Lappo was supported by many in the military and retired at the rank of Lt. Col in 1972. He remained highly regarded for his service until his death from Parkinson’s disease on Nov. 15, 2003 at the age of 83.
Source: Brandon Champion, “Michigan Air Force pilot flew bomber under Mackinac Bridge on this day in 1959“, MLive, April 24, 2017.
On April 24, 1965, at a carnival in a suburban Taylor Township shopping center parking lot, five children were riding in the “Flying Comet,” a mechanical “maypole” whose arms and attached buckets whirled in circles 10 to 12 feet above ground.
Suddenly, the arm holding the bucket collapsed and the children were dragged around the center pole until the operator shut off the motor. Two kids died and three were critically injured in the tragedy, which prompted the Legislature to enact a safety-inspection law for such rides.
Source: Mich-Again’s Day
Lawson J. Deming (April 23, 1913 – April 24, 2007) was a radio and TV character actor best known in Detroit, Cleveland, Washington, D.C. and parts of Canada as the Saturday afternoon television horror movie host “Sir Graves Ghastly.”
Sir Graves Ghastly began his hosting duties in 1966 on WJBK Channel 2 in Detroit. The show was Sir Graves Ghastly Presents and it ran on Saturday afternoons until April of 1983. He was very popular, especially with kids, probably due to the fact that his character did not appear scary and was actually more cartoonish.
The show featured many other characters as well, including his girlfriend Tilly Trollhouse and Glob, Sir Graves’ mouth filmed upside down. Most of these characters were played by Ghastly himself, Lawson J. Deming.
In all, Sir Graves Ghastly ran for 15 seasons in Detroit. Due to the show’s popularity (it was topping all other programs in its time slot other than live sporting events), WJBK added the occasional after-school or prime time Sir Graves special and, of course, several Halloween specials. The explosion of televised sports in the early 1980s, particularly college football, caused Sir Graves to go into hiatus after airing a show in November 1982. A management change during this time led to the program being “officially” cancelled in 1983 before any other shows were produced. As he did while his show was running, Deming continued to do speaking engagements and personal appearances well into the 1990s
For more information, see SirGravesGhastly.com
Detroit Horror Host Sir Graves Ghastly Show Intro
Sir Graves Ghastly Tibute Video
On April 10, 1872, journalist and newspaper editor J.Sterling Morton established Arbor Day in the state of Nebraska with hopes that it would spread across the country. This first Arbor Day challenged the people of Nebraska who were pioneers and missed the trees and forests of the east.
The challenge was to plant as many trees as they possibly could. The citizens of Nebraska answered the challenge by planting more than 1 million trees that first Arbor Day.
Arbor Day, a tree-planting holiday was recognized in Michigan for the first time on April 15, 1876, when it was designated by Gov. John Bagley, who requested that trees be planted in recognition of the nation’s centennial celebration.
Today Arbor Day is normally celebrated on the last Friday of April.
| Year | Arbor Day |
| 2020 | Friday, April 24 |
| 2021 | Friday, April 30 |
| 2022 | Friday, April 29 |
| 2023 | Friday, April 28 |
To learn more about the history of National Arbor Day visit the website at www.nationalarbordayfoundation.com.
Sources:
National Arbor Day entry from the National Day Calendar
MIRS Capitol Capsule, April 15, 2020
This lithograph from the Detroit Historical Society shows Phoenix Steam Fire Engine No. 3 as it appeared in Lincoln’s funeral procession in Detroit.
On the morning of April 15, 1865 President Abraham Lincoln died of a gunshot wound he suffered the night before while watching Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C. Even by 19th-century standards, word spread quickly throughout the shocked nation, and Detroit deeply grieved the fallen 16th president. Mourners gathered in Campus Martius on April 16 and soon a memorial event with a funeral procession was planned for April 25.
A photograph of the firefighters of K.C. Barker Company No. 4 with a horse-drawn fire engine carrying a young girl with a harp, a flag, and a small portrait of Lincoln as it appeared in Lincoln’s funeral procession in Detroit.
In his 1890 book History of Detroit and Wayne County and Early Michigan, Silas Farmer described the solemn affair: “Everywhere stores and residences were draped in black, and loving, tender, and patriotic mottoes, displayed in many forms, relieved and enforced the somber hangings.”
When Lincoln’s body was transported from Washington, D.C., for burial in Springfield, Ill., the funeral train stopped in several cities, though Detroit was not among them. Still, the respect Michigan paid to Lincoln (the state lost nearly 15,000 lives in the Civil War) was undeniably heartfelt. That affection was mutual. At the outset of the Civil War, when Michigan sent more men to fight than he had expected, Lincoln remarked, “Thank God for Michigan.”
This article appears in the April 2015 issue of Hour Detroit
Opening Day is special. Every team and every player starts out with a clean slate. If your team wins that day, you secretly wonder: can we win ’em all? Is this the year? Hope truly springs eternal.
The Detroit Tigers played their first opener back on April 25, 1901, at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull at Bennett Park. That day they squared off in their first American League game against the Milwaukee Brewers, a team that moved to St. Louis the following year to play as the Browns.
The Tigers have had some exciting home openers in their history.
But the first one may have been the best of them all.
The Detroit Tigers were one of the flagship members of the brand-new American League. The team played at rickety wooden Bennett Park, at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull.
The roster was sprinkled with names like Pop Dillon, Doc Casey, Ducky Holmes, Sport McAllister, and Davey Crockett. It also featured three guys named Kid (Kid Gleason, Kid Elberfeld, and Kid Nance). The manager was 33-year-old “Gentleman George” Stallings.
The opener was originally scheduled for the 24th, but heavy rain caused a postponement until the next day. The weatherman eventually cooperated, and a bright, sunny afternoon made it a perfect day for a ballgame, despite the still-soggy infield.
Opening Day was a special event even back then, as a parade that included both the Tigers and the visiting Milwaukee Brewers made its way up Michigan Avenue, before finally ending at the ballpark. (The Brewers, by the way, played only one season in the Cream City, before they relocated to St. Louis and changed their name to the Browns. They moved to Baltimore in 1954 and became the Orioles.)
A total of 10,023 Tiger fans came out for the event (actually they were called “cranks” back then). Pregame festivities included the Brewers marching onto the field, followed closely by the home team, which sported bright red woolen coats. The grandstand crowd cheered, and the Tigers showed their appreciation by doffing their caps.
Civic luminaries gave the usual boring speeches that nobody really wanted to listen to. Stallings, along with James Burns, co-owners of the Tigers, were presented with an oversized silver cup. The City Council President threw out the first pitch. Finally, the Tigers sprinted onto the field, the band played “There’ll be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight,” and the game was ready to begin.
So really, things haven’t changed all that much on Opening Day in Detroit. It is an afternoon of pomp and circumstance, to be sure, but mostly it is a day to welcome back that old friend, baseball, after a long winter of hibernation.
On that afternoon in 1901, Tiger fans saw the comeback to end all comebacks.
Down 13-4 heading into the last of the ninth, Detroit scored ten runs to win its first American League game, 14-13.
One newspaper account the next day called it, “The most magnificent batting rally ever seen.”
Today, we call it a walk-off win. So some things do change.
The victory sparked the Tigers, who went on to win their next four games, by such scores as 13-9 and 12-11 (And I thought they called it the Deadball Era?).
But by season’s end, Detroit had to settle for a record of 74-61, good for third place behind the Boston Americans and A.L. champion Chicago White Sox.
Today, Opening Day in Detroit has taken on a whole new meaning. It is as much a day for calling in sick to work and joining a party downtown, as it is for going to a ballgame. Bars and restaurants around Comerica Park are standing-room-only with revelers who don’t even have a ticket.
That’s a good thing. It means that people in this town care a lot about the Tigers.
So just like cranks at the turn of the 20th century cheered on Kid Gleason, Kid Elberfeld, and Kid Nance, today’s Tiger fans can yell and scream for Victor Martinez and J.D. Martinez.
And hope and pray for a thrilling ninth-inning comeback.
Sources :
Dan Holmes, “These players started the most opening day games for the Detroit Tigers“, Detroit Athletic Company, April 5, 2016.
Scott Ferkovich, “In their first game in the American League, Detroit thrilled their fans on Opening Day“, Michigan Athletic Company, April 4, 2015.
On April 25, 1907, occupants of the women’s annex at the Soldiers’ home in Grand Rapids were compelled to take a bath once a week, but some occupants objected to the commandant’s stand for cleanliness.
Those who didn’t bathe at least once a week risked not having meals at their home or eat at the restaurant near the home. Residents also objected to a nurse attendant being at the bath with them.
One 75-year-old woman spent each Sunday and Monday in the city to avoid that bath and change of underwear.
Source: The Detroit Free Press
Esther Gordy Edwards (April 25, 1920 – August 24, 2011) was a staff member and associate of her younger brother Berry Gordy’s Motown label during the 1960s. Edwards created the Motown Museum, Hitsville U.S.A., by preserving the label’s Detroit studio. She also served as President of the Motown Museum and has been called the “Mother of Motown”.
Everyone knows of the legendary Berry Gordy Jr., but not all know of his business-savvy sister, Esther Gordy Edwards. She was the woman behind the man, who just happened to be her younger brother. During Motown’s “hayday” Gordy Edwards served as a company executive, managing artists such as: Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye and the Supremes.
Her legacy was that she understood the value of high standards and legacy. Her brother, Berry Gordy released in a statement upon her death, “She preserved Motown memorabilia before it was memorabilia, collecting our history long before we knew we were making it.” For those of you who don’t know, Esther Gordy Edwards turned the Motown offices/Hitsville USA into the Motown Historical Museum.
“We used to laugh at Mrs. Edwards because everywhere we went on those tours, she saved everything. She saved all the pictures, all the placards,” Robinson told the Detroit Free Press in 2005. “But what a wonderful thing she did. Because of her we have that museum, we have that place where people can go and see that history.”
While working as an executive at Motown, she helped artists manage their money, arranged for tutors, and directed the company’s international operations. Apparently she also negotiated a contract with future royalties, when her brother Berry asked for the $800 loan from his family to start Motown Records, a scene included in Motown the Musical..
Sources :
Esther Gordy Edwards wikipedia entry
Tatiana Grant, Women’s History Month : Esther Gordy Edwards, Detroit News Blog, March 18, 2015.