Civil War & Americana – Page 12 – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Canal a Vital Investment that Helped Open the West from Chicago

lockport-il-illinois-and-michigan-canal-at-branch-state-bank-at-chicago-100-post-note — Notes were issued by banks to help fund the Illinois and Michigan Canal Company. This Branch State Bank at Chicago $100 post note is dated Aug. 1, 1839.

By Jim O’Neal

Chicago had a big opportunity buried deep within a challenging situation.

In the early 19th century, trade goods from the Great Lakes region could be shipped on three routes. The Erie Canal got goods to New York, the Saint Lawrence River to the ports on the northern Atlantic, or goods went south on the Mississippi River to New Orleans into the Gulf of Mexico. The last option was best for goods grown or mined around Lake Michigan or Superior.

One issue was the lack of a physical connection to the Mississippi or any of its tributaries. There was a geographically infuriating obstacle in the way: a relatively low plateau with a wide expanse. It was this barrier, just a few dozen feet high, that separated the growing lakeside city of Chicago from the rivers of the west.

As early as 1673, French-Canadian explorer Louis Jolliet had remarked how easy it should be to cut a small canal across the hilltop marsh and make a direct link to the mighty river. Although Jolliet knew very little about artificial waterways, he was aware of a giant canal being built in France, the Canal du Midi, a 150-mile structure linking the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. It had started six years earlier and would take another eight years to complete. But, surely a small waterway here in America would be “trivial.”

Wrong!

Neither the French nor British had pursued a project during their occupation of this land and only when Illinois become a state in 1818 did any serious discussions begin. Finally, on Independence Day 1836, the Illinois and Michigan Canal Company broke ground and digging began.

The implications for Chicago were enormous. Connect to the Mississippi and trade commerce would explode. Immigrant laborers were attracted in large numbers. In the 12 years it took to finish the canal, the population grew to 20,000 and six years later it had tripled.

It took 12 long years because the scope of the canal was much larger than anticipated. It became a fully formed waterway; 60 feet wide at the top, 26 feet wide on the bottom and 6 feet deep. However, it was 96 miles long, had 17 locks, four aqueducts, and a giant pumping station with feeder springs. It allowed vessels to pass without interruption from the Lakes to the new city of LaSalle on the Illinois River.

When the steamer General Thornton arrived in the middle of Chicago on April 19, 1848 (bringing a load of sugar from New Orleans), a cascade of other events followed: Chicago got its first telegraph, the Board of Trade opened, the first steam-powered elevator started unloading on the docks, and the first railroad connection was started.

Suddenly, Chicago was a vital fulcrum for commerce and business – conveniently located between East and West. Journeys that had taken fur traders three weeks or farmers 10 days could now be accomplished in less than one day’s sailing! A torrent of goods flooded in: lumber, wheat, corn, stone, salt and livestock for the packinghouses to fill the nation’s dinner tables.

People quickly found travel into the American interior delightfully uncomplicated since the first half of the journey was easily waterborne. Chicago’s new Grand Canyon was much more than the trivial ditch Jolliet had envisioned, but when gold was discovered in California the following year, the mass migration started, filling in the middle of the country as they went.

This was one “Big Dig” that paid off … big time!

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is President and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as Chairman and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

After Civil War, Challenge Was Putting Pieces of Nation Back Together

gen-william-tecumseh-sherman-four-scarce-cartes-de-visite — A set of four cartes de visite of William Tecumseh Sherman, including this image of the general posed like Napoleon, sold for $2,868 at a December 2006 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

After Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant, the issue of the remaining Confederate armies was now only a question of time. However, the next anticipated surrender of General Joe Johnston and his army of 22,000 soldiers did not go smoothly.

On April 14, General William Tecumseh Sherman received a surprise communique from Johnston asking for a meeting to discuss terms for “exterminating the existing war.” This was a relief for Sherman since he had been concerned about a “guerilla war” and knew how Spain had foiled Napoleon using similar tactics.

Sherman answered immediately and suggested they meet on April 17 halfway between their two armies. However, tragedy struck before the meeting when President Lincoln was assassinated at Ford’s Theatre. When Sherman received the news via coded message, he quickly realized this could escalate into a major disaster. Lincoln’s death was calamitous per se, but it also had the potential to plunge the North into a vengeful bloodbath against a prostrated and fearful South. They would, in turn, fight back the only way they had left: chaos, disorder and continued violence. The war could drag out for a long time.

To Sherman it seemed imperative that he reach a prompt accommodation with Johnston and quell any acts of vengeance.

When they finally met, Sherman had apparently misunderstood the limits of his authority. He offered overly generous terms to Johnston and Confederate States Secretary of War John Breckinridge (who had been vice president for President James Buchanan pre-War). Then all hell broke loose in Washington, D.C., when new President Andrew Johnson and his cabinet learned the conditions of surrender. They canceled the armistice, ordered Sherman to resume hostilities and dispatched Grant to modify the terms of surrender.

Fortunately, there was no more fighting and Grant was able to effect the formal surrender. Sherman was infuriated, primarily because Secretary of War Edwin Stanton had insulted him and questioned his motives and loyalty. Things quieted down, but Sherman and Stanton were bitter enemies for the rest of their lives.

Now all that was left to do was to put all the pieces of the nation back together. Some cynics think this work is still under way.

Decision by General Lee Averted Nightmare Scenario for Nation

robert-e-lee-signed-carte-de-visite — This signed carte de visite of Confederate General Robert E. Lee sold for nearly $9,000 at a December 2006 auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The Civil War was drawing to an end and the first week of April 1865 had been tough on Southern soldiers. After losses at the Battle of Sayler’s Creek, Union General Phil Sheridan wired General Ulysses S. Grant: “If this thing is pressed, I think Lee will surrender.” When President Lincoln read this, he telegraphed Grant, “Let it be pressed!”

On April 7, Grant sent a note to Confederate General Robert E. Lee. In it, he stressed the dire situation of the South and tried to convince Lee that further resistance would only result in more useless “effusion of blood.” If Lee surrendered his Army of Northern Virginia, it could be avoided.

Both Lee and General James Longstreet read the note very carefully and finally decided … “Not yet.”

Lee sent a note back to Grant suggesting the South’s assessment was more optimistic, however, he asked Grant to elaborate on the details of a surrender. There were several more notes, but in the interim, the Confederates held one last War Council before making a decision.

A number of Lee’s top lieutenants decried any surrender, pointing out that Joe Johnston still had his entire army intact, as did Nathan Bedford Forrest in the West and Edmund Kirby Smith and John Mosby in Virginia. More importantly, they could disband into the surrounding countryside. Since they knew the terrain, a full-scale guerilla war could last indefinitely. The North would be forced to eventually give up and go home, even if it took 20 years!

This was the nightmare scenario that Lincoln, Grant and all top military minds had dreaded: a guerilla army of tens of thousands, scattered across the South, living off the land. It would be an impossible war to extinguish completely and the nation would slowly unravel. (We learned a similar lesson in Iraq and are still in the Afghanistan quagmire after 15 years and counting.)

Perhaps in his finest act, General Lee decided the restoration of the United States of America was the right thing to do, despite the bitterness of defeat, after all the sacrifices, and the destruction of their society, economy and culture. Historians credit this one single decision as the most important in the entire war.

Grant and Lee met on April 9 and the terms of surrender were very generous. Confederate officers and enlisted men could take their horses home, all arms and munitions surrendered and all troops were disqualified from the war. At Lee’s request, 25,000 rations were given to the half-starved men. The formal surrender continued for seven hours and at 4:30 p.m., Grant wired U.S. Secretary of War Edwin Stanton a simple message: “General Lee surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia this afternoon on terms proposed by myself.”

Yet for the promise of this day, dire questions remained about the rest of the Confederacy. The war was not over.

More tomorrow.

President McKinley’s Popularity Soared Despite ‘Imperialist’ Charges

william-mckinley-beaver-top-hat-with-leather-traveling-case — President McKinley’s beaver top hat and leather traveling case realized $17,925 at a December 2008 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Exactly 115 years ago this week, on Sept. 14, 1901, the 25th president of the United States, William McKinley, died from an assassin’s bullet. He had been shot on Sept. 6 in Buffalo, N.Y., while attending the Pan-American Exposition.

As he stood shaking hands with a long line of well-wishers at the Temple of Music, a man approached with his right hand wrapped in a handkerchief. As McKinley extended his hand to the man, Leon Czolgosz, a Polish-American anarchist, he was shot twice by a concealed .32-caliber revolver. One bullet deflected off a suit button, but the other entered his stomach, passed through a kidney and lodged in his back.

When doctors operated, they were unable to locate the bullet and he died eight days later from the spread of gangrene throughout his body. It was eerily similar to the assassination of President James Garfield 20 years earlier. He had been shot on July 2, 1881, and did not die until Sept. 19. Again, his doctors were unable to locate the bullet and he suffered for over two months as they probed the wound with their unsanitary hands and instruments until they killed him.

Both men would have easily survived if they had the benefit of modern medicine. By the time of McKinley’s death, the X-ray had been invented and doctors in the Balkan war in 1897 were using it to “see inside patients’ bodies.” However, the possible side effects of radiation were not yet recognized.

William McKinley had entered politics following the Civil War and at age 34 was a member of the House of Representatives for 14 years before losing in 1890. He then served two terms as governor of Ohio and by 1896 was the leading Republican candidate for president. Aided by wealthy Ohio industrialist Mark Hanna, he easily defeated Democrat William Jennings Bryan by the largest margin since the Civil War.

During his first term, McKinley earned a reputation as a protectionist by advocating high tariffs to protect American business and labor from foreign imports. He was a staunch supporter of the gold standard to back up paper money. However, foreign policy became a major issue in April 1898 when the United States intervened in the Cuban struggle for independence from Spain. The Spanish-American War was over in a quick three months and Cuba became a U.S. protectorate. This was followed by the annexation of Puerto Rico, Guam and the Philippines.

Suddenly, the United States had become a colonialist power, with a big interest in Asia, especially China.

President McKinley’s popularity soared during these economic boom times, and despite charges of being an “imperialist,” his margin of victory over William Jennings Bryan was even greater in the 1900 presidential rematch. Theodore Roosevelt was selected as McKinley’s vice president – against Mark Hanna’s strong objections – and naturally became president after McKinley’s unfortunate death.

Teddy “The Rough Rider” Roosevelt, who had charged up San Juan Hill, would bring a new level of energy and spirit to the White House. All Mark Hanna could do was watch and grouse, “Now look! That damn cowboy is president!”

The nation seemed to do just fine.

After Civil War, Centralization of Government Changed Fabric of Society

texas-confederate-bonnie-blue-flag — This Texas Confederate “Bonnie Blue” flag, carried by the 3rd Texas State Cavalry, is one of the rarest Confederate flags in existence. It realized $47,800 at a June 2007 Heritage auction

By Jim O’Neal

On May 10, 1865, President Andrew Johnson announced that armed resistance to the federal government had officially ended. However, on May 12-13 in the Battle of Palmito Ranch, a modest force of several hundred Union cavalry attacked a Confederate outpost on the banks of the Rio Grande, 12 miles from Brownsville, Texas.

Confederate troops had done nothing to break an unofficial truce with the Union forces, but after two days of fighting, they forced Union soldiers to first withdraw and then retreat. The skirmish is generally recognized as the final battle of the Civil War.

Before all the Union Army went home, there was a Grand Review in Washington on May 23-24 when Johnson and General Ulysses S. Grant watched the march of the triumphant Union armies down Pennsylvania Avenue from the Capitol. This great procession of 150,000 men would take two full days, while thousands hoisted flags, hummed patriotic songs and showered the troops with flowers. Here was the titanic armada of the United States, the mightiest concentration of power in history. The first day was dominated by the Army of the Potomac, Washington’s own army. At 9 sharp the next day, General William Tecumseh Sherman’s great army took its turn. They were sunburned and shaggy in stark contrast to the crisp and well-kept group from the previous day.

The demobilization was completed very effectively. Within two months, more than 600,000 troops had been discharged and a year later, the million-man army was down to a mere 65,000 men. Further, the number of warships was reduced from 500 to 117 by the end of 1865. Thus, the armed forces did not remain a permanent power and the mustered-out military readjusted to civilian life quite easily. This was much different from those returning from World War II or Vietnam, or the 3 to 4 million still rotating from Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria (some on their fifth and sixth deployments in this l-o-n-g war).

Still, life after the Civil War was profoundly different. Aside from the human carnage and dismal impoverishment of the South, the centralization of the government changed the fabric of society. Until 1861, the only direct contact with the federal government was usually the postal service. Now, the War Department controlled state militias, direct taxes were imposed, national banking instituted, and federal money printed or minted.

The most radical change was naturally in the South. All seceded states were under martial law, an occupation force maintained law and order, and 4 million blacks were neither slaves nor citizens. The North imposed no organized vengeance; no Confederates were tried for treason – the only Southern war criminal was Henry Wirz, commander of the prisoner-of-war camp near Andersonville, Georgia, who was hanged in November 1865. And a military court dispensed swift justice to the Abraham Lincoln assassination conspirators, with four hanged at the Old Penitentiary on July 7.

However, reconstruction of the pre-war Union of the United States was under way and Lincoln’s most fervent prayer – reunification – finally a reality despite the horrendous loss of life involved. Peace had been restored.

Proponents Were Convinced Prohibition Would End Violence, Create Jobs

This “Happy Days Are Here Again” Prohibition repeal pitcher and mug set (Stangl Company, 1934), showing caricatures of Franklin D. Roosevelt and other prominent Democrats, sold for $1,015.75 in June 2008.

“There is as much chance of repealing the 18th Amendment as there is for a hummingbird to fly to the planet Mars with the Washington Monument tied to its tail.” – U.S. Sen. Morris Sheppard of Texas, known as “The Father of Prohibition”

By Jim O’Neal

The crowd that assembled at the First Congressional Church in Washington, D.C., shortly before midnight on Jan. 16, 1920 was filled with anticipation of a new era. Summoned by the imminent arrival of Prohibition, as sanctioned by the 18th Amendment in 1919, thousands had gathered to usher out the sinful past and greet the arrival of a new nation.

At the stroke of midnight, one by one, speakers made their way to the pulpit, decrying the awful demon rum which, with God’s help, had finally been put to rest. And as they did, the wide-eyed audience dreamed of the world that would now emerge, a place where prisons would be turned into factories and slums would be nothing more than a memory.

“Men will walk upright now,” preacher Billy Sunday declared before a similar congregation in Virginia. “Women will smile and children will laugh. Hell will be forever for rent.” In the Washington audience was the beaming U.S. Sen. Morris Sheppard of Texas, author of the 18^th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution establishing America as a “dry” country. Sheppard listened as Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels described their purpose as the greatest reform movement in the history of the world. The National Prohibition Act (aka the Volstead Act) was effective at midnight Jan. 17, 1920.

The first violation occurred 59 minutes later. In Chicago, six armed men stole $100,000 of medicinal whiskey by emptying two freight cars filled with booze.

And so it would continue throughout the 1920s. The advocates of alcohol prohibition thought they were making America a better place – an alcohol-free zone, a land without alcoholics or family violence, a land where ruined lives would be eliminated, a more stable society.

But they were wrong. Prohibition did little to reduce the demand and simply replaced legal brewers, distillers, vintners and liquor stores with moonshiners, bootleggers and smugglers willing to risk prison. People still wanted bars and restaurants that served alcohol and such places continued to operate as speakeasies by paying off police, prosecutors and judges. The alcohol industry became the province of gangsters, and law enforcement was overwhelmed by illegal, wide-scale alcohol distribution. A new morality was easier to declare than maintain as Sen. Sheppard discovered when a moonshine still – churning out 130 gallons a day – was discovered on his Austin, Texas, ranch.

The “Nobel Experiment” finally ended in 1933 when President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed an amendment to the Volstead Act and declared, “I think this would be a good time to have a beer.”

Cheers!

Jack Johnson at the Center of 1910 Sports Spectacle

A collection of 118 postcards from the 1910 Jack Johnson vs. Jim Jeffries match sold for $6,572.50 at an October 2006 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

On the Fourth of July in 1910, the sleepy little frontier town of Reno, Nev., became the setting for a dramatic sporting event that riveted the nation. “Reno Now Center of the Universe” read the headline in the Chicago Tribune. John Arthur “Jack” Johnson, the first black boxing heavyweight champion of the world, was going to fight James Jackson Jeffries for the title.

Jim “The Boilermaker” Jeffries had retired as undefeated champion six years earlier and he had been lured back into the ring to prove that the Johnson championship was a fluke and white boxers were still the best in the world. Emotions were running high and Jeffries was being billed as the “Great White Hope” to restore white pride.

What many didn’t know was that Jeffries was about 130 pounds overweight despite working on his alfalfa farm, and Johnson was the epitome of a world-class athlete in prime condition. There was so much hype that it was estimated over $3 million would be wagered.

James Earl Jones and Jane Alexander starred in the 1970 film *The Great White Hope*.

The stage for the bout had been set two years earlier when Johnson had defeated Tommy Burns in Australia, prompting calls for Jeffries to restore the indignity suffered by the white race. Since then, Johnson had further alienated whites with his flashy manner, strutting confidence, lavish spending and cavorting with women. Novelist and journalist Jack London wrote several articles trying to coach Jeffries out of retirement with a rallying cry of “Jeff, it’s up to you!”

Some 20,000 people crowded into the arena for “The Fight of the Century” and most of them were Jeffries fans. When Johnson entered the ring first (it was a superstition), he was wearing a gray business suit over his boxing trunks, with an aide shielding him from the blinding 110-degree sun with a 5-foot-round paper shade. According to The New York Times the crowd gasped when he stripped to his fighting attire.

Tex Rickard, the legendary boxing promoter, ended up being the referee after failing to recruit President William Howard Taft or writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In the end, it mattered not. Johnson scored a 15-round TKO that some say was over as early as Round 4 and the balance was just showboating punishment.

Later, Johnson was sentenced to jail by Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis (future baseball commissioner) for violations of the Mann Act (“transporting women across state lines for immoral purposes”). He served a year or so and resumed his lifestyle as before, unrepentant or apologetic.

A fictionalized version of his life was the 1970 film The Great White Hope, with James Earl Jones and Jane Alexander, both of whom were nominated for Oscars.

When Nation Faces Uncertainty, Good Leaders do What They do Best

Merritt Mauzey’s Depression-era oil on masonite, *Uncle Fud and Aunt Boo*, realized $77,675 at a December 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In January 1931, a 46-year-old tenant farmer drew the nation’s attention to a small event in rural Arkansas. Homer C. Coney harvested corn and cotton on land he rented for $8 an acre. But a tremendous drought the previous summer meant that most farmers had no crop, no money and no way to survive the winter.

Coney tried to sell his truck for $25 … no takers. So he and his family – trapped in a one-room shack – tried to exist on a Red Cross relief ration of $12/month. Coney, his wife and five sons lived on beans mixed with lard (to “give it flavor”).

A young neighbor mother visited the family frantically seeking help because her children had not eaten for two days. Coney said, “Lady you wait here. I am a-going to get some food over at Bells – the Red Cross man that never give out nothing.” In England, Ark., Coney discovered a big crowd of people, hungry since the Red Cross office there was out of food vouchers. Soon, there was a crowd of 500 people who confronted the mayor and chief of police. “We’re not beggars and will work for 50 cents a day, but we will not let our families starve.”

All over the country, people read about the brave souls who gathered to demand food. “500 Farmers Storm Arkansas Town Demanding Food for Their Children,” read the front page of The New York Times. “You let this country get hungry and they are going to eat, no matter what happens to budgets, income taxes or Wall Street values,” wrote populist Will Rogers in his newspaper column. “Washington mustn’t forget who rules when it comes to a showdown.”

The Great Southern Drought of 1930 was a catastrophe, to be sure. But this act of desperation was only a small part of the bigger issue in the new decade. In 1930, 26,000 businesses collapsed. In 1931, 28,000 more, and by the beginning of 1932, 3,500 banks, holding billions in uninsured savings, went under. 12 million people (25 percent of the workforce) were unemployed and real earnings fell by one-third. In some cities, it was worse; 50 percent of Chicago was out of work, 80 percent of Toledo.

Soup lines stretched as far as the eye could see. America the land of possibility was the land of despair. In 1931, the people of Cameroon in West Africa sent a check to the people of New York for $3.77 to aid the “starving.” About 20,000 veterans of WWI arrived at the U.S. Capitol to demand early payment of their pensions. On July 28, 1932, General Douglas MacArthur – side by side with Major Dwight Eisenhower with a parade of infantry, cavalry and tanks – routed the squatters as ordered.

Today, it is hard to imagine the level of expectation that greeted President Franklin D. Roosevelt when he took the reins from the much-maligned Herbert Hoover. However, the Democratic platform in 1932 was much the same as Hoover’s: a balanced budget and a curb on spending. Even the term “New Deal” was a fluke line from a nomination acceptance, until it surprised everyone and became popular.

But Roosevelt had a supreme confidence, enormous energy, and a determination equal to that of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. He quickly cribbed a line from Henry David Thoreau (“Nothing is so much to be feared as fear”), began fireside chats with the American people from a room with no fireplace, and started leading.

That’s what good leaders do.

Idea of a ‘United Nations’ Enthralled the Country … but Surprises Remained

A print of the famous “Dewey Defeats Truman” photo dated November 1948 and inscribed by Harry S. Truman sold for $10,157.50 at an April 2013 Heritage auction.

“If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.”

“The buck stops here!”

“Give me a one-handed economist. All my economists say, ‘On the one hand … on the other.’”

– Quotes attributed to President Harry S. Truman

By Jim O’Neal

It was during Harry S. Truman’s years that America irrevocably joined the community of nations. The phrase “United Nations” had occurred to Franklin Delano Roosevelt in the middle of the night during the bleak Christmas of 1941, while Winston Churchill was a guest at the White House. In its Jan. 10, 1942, issue, Time reported that “a new phrase, the United Nations” had slipped into the world’s vocabulary.

The year before, a Fortune survey had found that barely 13 percent of the electorate wanted to see the United States in any international organization. However, by 1944, 68 percent did and college students endorsed the proposal to send a U.S. delegation to a permanent U.N. by 50 to 1. The House, on a motion by J. William Fulbright from Arkansas to support “the creation of appropriate international machinery to establish and maintain lasting peace among the nations of the world … and participation by the U.S. therein,” resolved 360 to 20 to do so.

In the Senate, the measure also had bipartisan support.

Competition was fierce between Philadelphia, Atlantic City, Chicago, San Francisco and the Black Hills of South Dakota versus New York for the honor of providing the U.N. headquarters with a tax-free location. Only tiny Greenwich, Conn., voted not to receive it, probably more about an anti-One World sentiment.

Then there was the dramatic speech by U.S. Sen. Arthur Vandenberg making his historic pivot toward the viability of international independence that was given a standing ovation by senators of both parties. The press hailed him for delivering a speech of “unquestioned greatness” … “the most important address to come from the senate in the last 80 years” … “a courageous pledge to meet all aggression with force” … “a promise on no more Munichs.”

In the excitement, no one heard a shot fired on the other side of the world. Returning from Paris in a rage, Ho Chi Minh declared the independence of Vietnam, proclaimed himself president and took to the hills. The State Department yawned. After all, these were only natives who could be handled by a few companies of U.S. Marines and even that wouldn’t be necessary. The French Foreign Legion was on hand to suppress any issues.

Besides, we had more important work to rescue and rebuild our Allies in Europe with the new Marshall Plan. Remote places like Korea and Vietnam could wait as we established world order and focused on our domestic priorities. War was now passé and polls confirmed we would have peace for the rest of the 20th century.

As usual, the future would be laden with surprises.

As America Played, Europe’s Dictators Set Stage for World War II

This 1939 edition of *New York World’s Fair Comics*, featuring a blond Superman on its cover and graded CGC VF/NM 9.0, sold for $25,300 at a July 2002 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Spring 1939 was a season of triumph for Europe’s trio of new dictators. Francisco Franco finished up his work in Spain at a cost of 1 million dead. Benito Mussolini seized Albania and Adolf Hitler marched unopposed into Prague and claimed the rest of Czechoslovakia. Neville Chamberlain and his Munich Pact would be enshrined in the hall of naïveté for eternity. Another diplomatic fantasy dashed.

War fever was ratcheted up a notch, but most of the world pretended not to notice.

In the United States, people sought escape in entertainment, particularly in New York, where the flashy World’s Fair offered them a glimpse into “The World of Tomorrow.” The pavilions of 33 states, 58 countries (minus Nazi Germany) and 1,300 companies filled the imaginations of visitors with modern marvels like television, nylons, robots and man-made electricity.

The popular General Motors “Futurama” exhibit drew 28,000 visitors daily and featured their vision of life in 1960, where everyone would be fit and tan, take two-month vacations and drive cars powered by “liquid air.” Visitors left with a button reading “I have seen the future” — wandering the 1,200 acres like members of a congregation that had witnessed a divine miracle.

The 1938 film *Love Finds Andy Hardy* marked the second pairing of the popular Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland.

In June, the King and Queen of England came to America and their parade in New York attracted over 3 million people (second only to Charles Lindbergh) and another 600,000 in Washington, D.C. Eleanor Roosevelt famously served them genuine American hot dogs when they finally made it to the White House.

Fantasy also reigned at the movies, where Walt Disney in 1937 introduced his first full-length cartoon, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and was hard at work on an animated paean to classical music, Fantasia. But the hottest box-office draw in 1938 was the freckle-faced teenager Mickey Rooney and his small-town exploits as Andy Hardy. Then came the most anticipated event in movie history, the premiere of Gone with the Wind and its epic romance in Civil War Georgia.

Awash in fairy tales and cartoons, science-fiction and nostalgia, people had little patience for bad news. However, when it started, there seemed to be no end. A surprise agreement between Germany and the Soviet Union and on Sept. 1, 1939, the killing began. After a faked Polish invasion of Germany, they unleashed 1½ million German soldiers in “response,” backed up by the most powerful war machine ever known to man.

Fantasy time had ended.