What made holiday headlines 100 years ago?

A somber but joyful holiday greeted Clark County residents 100 years ago this week as the nation celebrated the end of World War I with a national “Victory Christmas.”

News that week — even the usually festive front page of The Columbian on Christmas Eve — remained squarely focused on the wrap-up of the war, which ended at 11 a.m. Nov. 11. Stories of 30,000 soldiers a day returning home, tales of Clark County war heroes and what was likely a most-welcome report that food restrictions had been dropped for restaurants led the news that day.

In an odd parallel to modern day, an anti-discrimination resolution demanding equal pay for female teachers passed the Legislature and was announced Christmas Eve. The legislation came in the wake of similar laws in California and Oregon.

But even with the distractions of the Legislature and the end of the war, holiday charity remained prevalent in Clark County. The Salvation Army fed 25 needy families in Vancouver that year, providing Christmas dinners with “meat or chicken, bread, butter, potatoes, flour, coffee, sugar, milk, apples, celery, jelly, canned fruit, cranberries, canned peas, canned corn, canned tomatoes, turnips, pumpkins, leeks and carrots.”

Most of the vegetables were grown by local school children, and the Salvation Army provided a Christmas tree for poor children at its center, with gifts of clothing and toys for all.

Unfortunately for local booze lovers, though, prohibition was in full effect and had been since 1916. A bootlegger that Christmas Eve was caught in Ridgefield with “suitcases” full of holiday cheer. Headed for Portland with his bags packed up with whiskey, Harry Wright instead was arrested and fined $200. Ridgefield Constable Blackman and his crew poured out all of the whiskey in the suitcases, saving one bag as evidence.

So much for holiday hot toddies.

Here’s more on those and other stories that peppered the headlines 100 years ago:

News from the war

Soldiers were slowly starting to return from overseas, but many were still waiting for ships to bring them home that Christmas.

Private Charles Glenn of Vancouver was cited for distinguished service in action during his time with the 4th Engineers, who trained at Vancouver Barracks in spring 1917. He was awarded for heroism in action near Ville Savoy, France, on Aug. 11, 1928.

“Although his eyes had been burned by gas, Private Glenn volunteered for duty and assisted in the construction of an artillery bridge across the Vesle River under constant machine-gun and artillery fire, setting a conspicuous (sic) of personal bravery and devotion to duty,” the story read.

In another front page story on Christmas Eve, the parents of Howard Zeno shared a letter from their son, who finally told them where he had spent the past two years of the war after censorship was lifted. He was on a minesweeper in the North Sea near Scotland’s Moray Firth inlet.

News from home

A newly launched Washington Public Market on the corner of Sixth and Washington streets was touted as one of the finest “sanitary markets” on the Pacific Coast that Christmas Eve.

“No market either in Portland or Seattle can compare with it. Every convenience for the public is provided for. There will be comfort stations for women and men, sanitary drinking fountain, rest rooms and free telephone,” the story read.

Vendors at the market were mostly local farmers selling produce and other goods, much like the Vancouver Farmers Market today.

A little earlier that December, the paper announced that G.E. Percival had been elected mayor of Vancouver by a vote of 528 to 282. Percival, sometimes called “Vancouver’s Missing Mayor,” ended up the fodder of ghost stories after finishing his term in 1920. He was last seen alive Oct. 17, 1920, his last day of office, strolling through Vancouver’s streets and over the Interstate 5 Bridge. His body was found almost a month later in the woods in Portland, an apparent suicide, on Nov. 22, 1920. But there was no note, and friends said he was not depressed. Years later, some residents still report seeing his eerie ghostly figure crossing the historic I-5 Bridge on foggy nights.

Racism was also far from dead back in 1918. One inside headline in The Columbian on Christmas Eve notes: “Indian is Learning Rapidly: Beginning anew after many years to see that the ways of the white man are good.”

In condescending tones, it reads: “In the old days he depended upon the wild deer and the buffalo for food. He lived in a smokey rogan or teepee, and when anyone died there, he burned it and moved away to keep the ghost of the departed from haunting him. In the old days he fought against the white men and collected paleface scalps. Then he called upon his medicine man to cast spells over the missionary and drive him away. Today he is learning to farm and raise cattle. He builds a home like the white man’s with floors and a cellar for vegetables, and sometimes a corrugated iron roof. In case of a death in his new cabin, he does not burn it, but uses the white man’s disinfectants to fumigate the place. Now he is beginning to understand what the ‘White Father’ in Washington is trying to do for him.”

Ringing in a new year

New Year’s Day in The Columbian featured a host of stories that were equally somber about the war, but a poem on the front page also celebrated what a future without war could bring: “A glorious New Year’s Day — bright, clear and bracing — a day benefitting the birth of a grand New Year with all its wondrous possibilities — with all its promise of joy and blessing to humanity,” it begins.

“And a waiting world welcomes 1919 with open arms, after the years of bloodshed, tragedy and sorrow, the people of all nations have but one desire — to relax from the rigors of war and return to old time pursuits of peace and sweet home life.

“To many it means the joyful homecoming of the boys who have been far away among the dangers and hardships of war.

“To many of these boys it means starting life anew in the face of handicaps imposed through voluntary service of flag and country. Whatever be the task, whatever be the joy or sorrow which the year may hold in store, America hails the day with joy. The bells of our towers, the whistles of our factories, the voices of our merry-makers throughout the length and breadth of this fair land hailed the advent of the New Year with joy, hope and good will.

“The New Year is here — a brand new year fresh from the hand of God — unsoiled, untouched — not a spot to mar on the page. What will we do with it? What will the record of the coming year show upon the page? Every man must write his own story. Shall we resolve to make the record one of accomplishment? Shall we give a creditable report on our stewardship at the end of the year? Will we be able to point proudly at the writing on the page and feel that the year has been worthwhile — that we have made it a better and brighter world by having lived and labored?

“Optimism pervades the air, the spirit of hope and progress and the fires of determination lure us on to greater achievements. Let the watchword be ever ‘Onward and Upward.’ Let us advance into the untrodden field with a holy hope and purpose to keep the record clean and turn a page of which posterity may be justly proud. It is ours to make or mar. Let us each to well the work that lies before us.

“Welcome 1919 with all your coming brings!”

We could say that again 100 years later: Welcome 2019, with all your coming brings!