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PM, December 26, 1940 pp.16-17

Quakers March on New York with placards urging that America feed Hitler’s victims…

Christmas Pudding for these wounded British soldiers was served a few days early – so that this picture, sent from England by ship nail, could get here on Christmas day…

A Hitler Greeting of holiday ill-will toward England is loaded under a German bombing plane…

Loose Locomotive without a crew ran down spur in Chicago…

Nazi Troops are stationed in key spots throughout Rumania…

Union Label is the name of this strip act…

President Roosevelt Takes His Family and Guests to Church on Christmas…

Trans-Atlantic Greetings… are broadcast by Mayor LaGuardia and Lily Pons…

American Refugees arrive on S.S. Washington from the Orient…

First Aid fails to revive Paul Ryan, killed by a gas explosion in his apartment at 865 First Ave. Police said it was apparently suicide. The Christmas night blast shook the 17-story building and injured two house employees. PM photo by Weegee

PM, December 26, 1940 pp.16-17

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865 First Ave., December 25 or 26, 2012


865 First Ave., December 26, 2020


PM, December 24, 1940


(Only six hours, and one time zone, seperates Weegee Creek, OH, and Santa Claus, IN…)


Weegee, Naked City, 1945, pp.158-159

Not so long ago I, too, used to walk on the Bowery, broke, “carrying the banner.” The sight of a bed with white sheets in a furniture store window, almost drove me crazy. God… a bed was the most desirable thing in the world.

In the summer I would sleep in Bryant Park… But when it got colder I transferred to the Municipal Lodging House… I saw this sign on the wall there. A Sadist must have put u=it up. I laughed to myself… what Cash and Valuables… I didn’t have a nickel to my name, but I was a Free Soul… with no responsibilities…

Slumber-time in a mission… it’s Christmas.


PM, December 23, 1940, p.1

Boy Meets Girl – and that’s no posed meeting as he came home last night on Christmas furlough with 5000 other soldiers. That’s not anguish you read in the face of the woman at the right. The Christmas package in her hand as she waits for her soldier is the tip-off. She too, is overcome with joy. (See page 15.) Photo by Weegee
PM, December 23, 1940, p.1

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PM, December 23, 1940, p15. PM photos by Weegee

Home For Christmas Are the Soldiers From Alabama.
For nearly seven hours wives, girl friends, mothers and fathers swarmed into Pennsylvania Station to greet 5000 men returning from Fort McClellan, Anniston, Ala., on Christmas furlough. The special sections ran far behind schedule but the festive spirit of the crowd overwhelmed any feeling of boredom at the delay. The off schedules were caused by heavy traffic on southern routes of other trains distributing the new trainees throughout the country for the holidays. Then, too, special stops had to be made to take aboard more drinking water and sandwiches. Here, part of the crowd waits.

Marie Buoragura of 69 Marcy Ave., Brooklyn, trusts that there are not too many soldiers named John but the signal, written in lipstick on a newspaper carries her message.

What their names are is not particularly important. The picture of Him meeting Her is eloquent enough in its bliss and perfect obliviousness to thousands of others who gave and received similar greetings at the station. The soldiers will remain here for none days, then entrain back to Alabama.
PM, December 23, 1940, p.15.

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Grand Central Station, December 23, 2012

…People swarmed Grand Central Station… the Apple store overwhelmed any feeling of boredom. (Weegee, a wartime photographer…) Here, part of the crowd walks, waits, and photographs…



Grand Central Station, December 24, 2020


PM, December 23, 1940

These Pictures Are PM’s Gift to You…
They are being given to readers who give PM Christmas gift subscriptions. Page 7 gives details.


Weegee (1899-1968), Naked City, 1945, pp. 226-227 (Odds and Ends chapter)


PM, March 9, 1941, p. 18

This Time It Really Snowed in New York – 12 Inches, More to Come

A commuter from New Jersey opened her umbrella as she left the 125th St. ferry, had it turned inside out by a 35 m.p.h. wind.

Thousands of automobiles parked overnight were found like this by owners Saturday morning.
PM, March 9, 1941, p. 18


Screen shots from Stanley Kubrick’s “Killer’s Kiss” (1955).


Screen shots from “Killer’s Kiss.” Mannequin factory owner, played by Skippy Adelman, and mannequins.


PM, October 1945. Photo by Skippy Adelman.


New York Age, May 1950. Photo by Skippy Adelman.



PM, 1945. Photo by Skippy Adelman.



Weegee-esque screen shots from “Killer’s Kiss.”


PM, October 1944. Talking dog for the war effort story. Photo by Skippy Adelman.


PM, August 31, 1941

Holiday Accidents took their toll as motorists started their Labor Day week end. Early yesterday Joseph Morris and his brother’s wife, Charlotte, were killed when his car overturned in Bronx Park. The driver, Anthony Morris, Navy purchasing agent, was overturned was injured. Three other auto deaths had been listed last night; the Motor Vehicle Bureau says about 40 will die before Tuesday7 in New York State. PM, August 31, 1941


PM, September 6, 1944, p. 16

“Take heed! New York will be bombed tomorrow!” Thus called Mrs. Elizabeth Lassen, 54, as she sat nude on the roof parapet of her apartment house at 1 W. 30th St., with her legs dangling over the edge. A neighbor induced her to leave her perch by offering her a cup of coffee. She drank the coffee and returned to the edge, but was coaxed back to safety by police who took her to Bellevue for observation . Neighbors said Mrs. Lassen had expressed concern over the safety of her husband a merchant ship caption who is at sea. PM, September 6, 1944, p. 16

And so the 24‐year‐old Parsons graduate decided to find a niche of his own. “I’ve always loved environmental fabrics,” he explained. “When I was a kid, I had swatches’ pinned all over my room.” The fabrics led to pillows and Mr. Carrieri opened his Pillow Salon at 1 West 30th Street last year. NY Times, May 18, 1968.

Living Amid Office Buildings With a Legend of Lillian Russell

George Washington never slept at 1 West 30th Street. That’s one fact accepted by the tenants of one of Manhattan’s most romantic and most improbable apartment houses.
NY Times, May 18, 1968.


WEEGEEWEEGEEWEEGEE, September 6, 2020

Fifth Avenue and Thirtieth Street Corner Sold for One Million Dollars — Deal for Grand Street Corner — Sales by Brokers and at Auction.

Frederick Fox Co. have sold the eight-story Wilbraham building at 284 Fifth Avenue, northwest corner of Thirtieth Street, opposite the Holland House. The structure, which covers a plot 40 by 125, was one of the first and finest bachelor apartment houses erected in the Fifth Avenue section, and was owned by Mrs. Emily H. Moir. NY Times, January 3, 1908.


PM, May 28, 1941 (One Weegee photo made in Times Square)

World War Two (and Murder Inc. and bird) news… (Important day in the history of WWII and the U.S.)


PM, May 23, 1941, p. 10

There’s something for everyone on this “Record of a New York Day”… Bowery news, bridges, scattered pies, dough, ice cream, crime in Brooklyn, the Bronx, hot weather, tenements, the Lower East Side, kids, a kitten, euthanasia… And more apple news… If the Civil War ended in 1865, then… in 1941 the Civil War was more recent, more contemporary, then 1941 is to us today, in 2020. (A mere 76 years versus 79 years ago…)

A photo that is similar to Weegee’s photo of kids and kitten on a fire escape appears in Weegee’s recently republished book Naked City


Naked City, pp. 22-23

(Speaking of a Naked City:)


PM, May 23, 1941, p. 13 (Photo by Gene Badger)

“Scene: East River. Time: 3 p.m. Temperature: 90.7

Yesterday’s 90.7 degrees made it the hottest day of the year… The Bronx was bombarded by a freak hailstorm… Cvek, the convicted strangler asked Sing Sing officials why the prison wasn’t air-conditioned.”


PM, May 20, 1943, p. 18. (Photo by Weegee, PM)

Potatoes au Bay Rum

If you think the potatoes you buy during the next few days smell like hair tonic, chances are they are part of the batch of 17,000 pounds Mayor LaGuardia, the cops, Market Dept. inspectors and the Office of Price Administration found in a midtown barbershop. Yesterday the jobber who brought them here agreed to sell them. They are being taken to Bronx Terminal market for distribution to retailers. The jobber is out on $300 bail for having put the potatoes in bags labeled wheat, oats and bran. PM, May 20, 1943, p. 18

Speaking of apples… Seventy-seven years ago today:

Potatoes with Cologne and Aftershave Lotion
might be a contemporary version of the title of this story. (“Bay rum is the name of a cologne/aftershave lotion. Other uses include as under-arm deodorant and as a fragrance for shaving soap, as well as a general astringent.” Wikipedia.) Why in the world were there tons of starchy, perennial nightshades in a midtown Manhattan barber shop? Why did Weegee take a few photos of the edible tubers leaving a midtown Manhattan barber shop? The Charles Barber Shop was at 1221 Sixth Avenue. And why was this newsworthy?

We wanted to get to the root of this potato mystery, or at least chip away at the truth. After spending a fruitful few hours planted in front of a microfilm reader at the NYPL in Midtown Manhattan, we now (our salad days) know a little more about the spuds in sacks on Sixth…


Daily News, May 20, 1943 (front page of two different editions)


Daily News, May 20, 1943 (NEWS foto)

Next! Some 18,000 pounds of tough-skinned potatoes, that haven’t even been shaved, get the vagabond’s rush from a barbershop at 1221 Sixth Ave. yesterday. The spuds, headed for a Bronx market, eventually will have their eyes picked out by New York housewives. City bought them. Benjamin Caplan, custodian of the potatoes, won a parole… $49.95 profit.


New York Herald Tribune, May 20, 1943, p.20, Herald Tribune-Acme

Sixth Avenue Barber Shop Loses Its Potatoes
Some of the 17,000 pounds of potatoes found in the barber shop of Charles Falcone at 1221 Sixth Avenue on Tuesday being removed yesterday by Bronx Terminal Market wholesalers for resale to the city’s closed markets.

The wayward potato story was front page news in The Daily News and New York Herald Tribune, while The New York Post covered the story, sadly it was photo-free. The Herald Tribune’s coverage was more digestible as it was a little more factual and less tongue-in-cheek. (The photos published in the News and Tribune are not credited to a photographer, were they made by Weegee?)

Apparently the potatoes, described as “scarce, more valuable than diamonds, and vital to the war effort” by Magistrate Anna Kross, were bought by Benjamin Caplan from a farm outside of Plattsburgh, New York, for 2 cents a pound (about 29 cents today) or $343.75 (about $5,036.21 today), where they were at risk of spoiling. Anthony Zubinsky drove them down to Manhattan, for $120 (about $1,758.10 today). Caplan asked his friend Charles Falcone, the barber, if he could store the spuds in Falcone’s barber shop while he tried to sell them, presumably legally, and not on the black market.


PM, May 20, 1943, p. 19

Apparently unloading 157 bags of the scarce, luxury food, in mislabeled bags, in the middle of the afternoon in midtown Manhattan caught the eye and ire of passersby who notified the authorities. The authorities came raining down on the Charles Barber Shop. Mayor Fiorello La Guardia (1882-1947), with a chip on his shoulder, the Commissioner of Markets , the Commissioner of buildings, (due to the weight of the potatoes, the barber was charged with violating a building code), fire and police departments, and members of the press, descended on the Charles Barber Shop, on Sixth Avenue, near 48th Street.

Mr. Caplan appeared before Magistrate Anna Kross at the Jefferson Market Court. In the end, the Office of Price Administration exonerated Benjamin Caplan, he sold his spuds for a legal price, they were brought to the Bronx Terminal Market, and were sold at the city’s markets below the maximum of 6 cents a pound.

A quote, almost like dessert, from The Herald Tribune, May 20, 1943: “You probably never want to see another potato,” a reporter said to Mr. Caplan.
“I’ll be back up there tomorrow,” he replied wearily, referring to his upstate source of supply, “and if there aren’t any potatoes, I’ll get apples.”


PM, May 20, 1943, p. 19