Smithsonian Magazine November 2024

The Path to Independence I thoroughly enjoyed Alexis Coe’s excellent article (“Freedom’s First Draft,” September/October 2024) on the sometimes overlooked First Continental Congress. As we approach the 250th anniversary of our nation, this semiquincentennial provides the perfect opportunity to honor this bold 1774 meeting of the American colonies. Andrew A. Zellers-Frederick | Haddonfield, New Jersey English Roots From linguistics, I must question the concept of a gentle blending of the Germanic and Celtic peoples (“How England Became England,” September/October 2024). Only a few Celtic words have survived into English, as expected for the speech of a subjugated race. By contrast, the Norman conquerors infused the Saxons’ language with their version of French and transformed it to what we call English. As for the proven genetic mix, blending of that sort…

I AM CONTINUALLY IMPRESSED with the Smithsonian’s ability to connect us to the world and each other while tackling our most important and urgent issues. I was reminded of that in May, during my first visit to Brazil, a vast and vibrant country profoundly shaped by slavery. It was the destination of approximately 40 percent of the more than 12 million enslaved Africans who were forcibly brought to the Americas. I grasped the enormity of this history when I visited Valongo Wharf, Rio de Janeiro’s largest disembarkation point for Africans transported to the Americas. The violent history there stands in contrast to the human stories of resistance and resilience I saw reflected in artifacts retrieved from the Valongo archaeological site, including shells, beads and pipes Africans had brought with them. This…

THAT FIRST PARADE, held on a relatively mild Thanksgiving Day in 1924, was extolled as “a marathon of mirth” in splashy newspaper ads. It was actually more akin to a modest church carnival on wheels. Comprising a few marching bands, some clowns, some Mother Goose-themed floats and a small menagerie of animals on loan from Manhattan’s Central Park Zoo that occasionally terrified onlooking children with their howls and growls, the procession managed to trudge a staggering six miles, from 145th Street all the way down to Herald Square, to its final destination: R.H. Macy & Company, America’s largest department store. Despite its modest offerings, the parade still drew a crowd: By the time Santa, pulling up the rear, descended from his sleigh and climbed a ladder to sit on an ornate…

THE MACY’S THANKSGIVING DAY PARADE was a generation-old tradition when organizers decided to dial up the excitement by adding star performers to the event in the late 1950s. But it wasn’t easy to stage a genuine concert on a moving vehicle in cold weather during a live television broadcast. So starting in 1964, the performers would often lip-sync to a playback of music they’d recorded earlier. Here are some of the most memorable musical acts that have gotten America tapping our toes before turkey time. 1958 BENNY GOODMAN AND HIS SEXTET The King of Swing, who’d appeared in the 1934 and 1937 parades as a non-performing celebrity guest, finally got to cook this year on the standard “The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise.” 1973 GEORGE JONES AND TAMMY WYNETTE…

IN THE MID-19TH century, election ballots were created by political parties, not the government. Local Republican and Democratic operatives designed and printed their own ballots, also called tickets, which typically listed each party’s candidates for state, local and federal office. At the polls, voters procured ballots from party workers and, after walking through a crowd, dropped their votes into a ballot box, typically a glass bowl. With no secrecy in how one voted, violence and intimidation became common, particularly in urban precincts. To capture the attention of voters on Election Day, local party organizations often turned their ballots into miniature works of art, using patriotic and partisan symbols to appeal to voters. Such artwork also had practical uses: Illiterate or non-English-speaking voters might be drawn to a ballot that seemed…

EXHAUSTED AND HUNGRY, the prospectors stumbled into Dawson City in the late summer of 1898 after a grueling journey—and found what must have seemed a mirage. Before them towered a three-story hotel, light streaming through the windows from cut-crystal chandeliers and gleaming off the brass and mahogany bar. Inside the Fair View Hotel, its diminutive proprietor, Belinda Mulrooney, proffered menus boasting oysters and steak. Mulrooney’s success, as a woman and an Irish immigrant with little education, was as improbable as the Fair View’s remote glamour. Only 26 when she opened the hotel in July of 1898, in two short years she’d come to be known as the richest woman in the Klondike, overseeing an empire that extended from hotels, restaurants and real estate development to mining companies, banks, even utilities. It’s…