Founded in 2017, Strange Times is a twice-monthly newsletter that explores the weirdest news of 1921, one day at a time. To get free games and the original PDFs of every article that runs in Strange Times—plus stories that didn’t make the cut—back me on Patreon.

Things I Like

The world is a throbbing headache of impotent fury and despair! Here are three things that don’t make me want to scream:

1. Gayest Episode Ever! A deeply researched, long-running podcast about queer themes in classic (and not so classic) sitcoms, Gayest Episode Ever has been one of my favorite listens for the last year or two. From Bob Belcher’s status as a possible bicon to trans representation on Golden Girls, it’s taught me a hell of a lot about TV history and gotten me to revisit shows I hadn’t watched in years, including…

2. Frasier! Almost everything about me can be explained by the fact that when I was 8, my favorite TV shows were The Simpsons, Animaniacs and Frasier. I have a vivid memory of getting a call from a classmate—I was probably in third grade?—with a question about homework and asking him to call me back in 20 minutes, “Because Frasier is on.” I was always afraid to revisit Frasier, fearing it would be creaky and stale, but on rewatching it I’ve found it absolutely razor sharp, often approaching perfect TV farce. So in that spirit, I’d also like to suggest…

3. Revisiting Old Favorites! Other random childhood faves that I’ve recently revisited include the song “Here Comes the Hotstepper”—a song with a crazy story—The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and almost everything ever recorded by Pink Floyd. Two of those three are not exactly deep cuts but I’d thought I’d outgrown them and you can’t outgrow great art. It’s always worth taking a look back, especially if you can do it not from nostalgia but as an older person trying to better understand who you were when you were young and who you are now.

Today we’ve got a criminal dog and a mob of murderous Detroiters. Avoid yappy highwaymen on…

August 8, 1921

• At Chicago’s Pageant of Progress, thousands witness the death of Pat Love, a parachute jumper killed after a collision with the north tower of the municipal pier.

• A Belgian ammunition dump catches fire, discharging 1,000,000 rounds of ammunition and causing local villagers to take cover, believing the war has started anew.

• A man shot dead on the links at the Jackson Heights golf club is believed to be the 15th member of a Little Italy bootlegging vendetta.

• Declaring themselves “a law-abiding, legally chartered, standard fraternal order,” the Ku Klux Klan denounces lawlessness, saying that it has no intention to promote racial or religious intolerance.

• Protesting a 20% wage reductions, the 40 to 70 seat orchestras of the Broadway movie palaces walk out, forcing their employers to accompany today’s showings with organ music or vocal performances instead.

• The Weather: Partly cloudy and cooler today; tomorrow fair.

Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog? Not this one, that’s who! Aw jeez, who am I kidding? I bet it was a pretty good dog after all.

Frank Fels, 26 years old, of 345 East 151st Street, was escorting Miss Jennie Ganley of 480 East 137th Street to her home early yesterday, after a reception, when a little black-and-tan dog ran from a vacant lot on the east side of Southern Boulevard near 143rd Street.

On seeing them about 100 feet off, the black-and-tan stopped, lifted a hind leg, dropped hist ail to horizontal, aimed his nose at them like a pointer and gave two sharp yelps.

The couple was puzzled, but they proceeded toward the dog, which shifted slowly sideways to keep its nose aimed at them. When the man and woman came alongside of the black-and-tan two masked men suddenly jumped from behind a sign board in the lot, where they apparently had been using the animal as a sort of periscope to indicate the approach of hold-up prospects.

“March into that lot. If you make a sound, I’ll shoot you both,” said one of the robbers, who carried a revolver. They were soon about sixty feet from the sidewalk, and the second robber began to search Feis. He had hardly begun when Feis saw across the vacant lot a man walking briskly from the direction whence he and Miss Ganley had come. He had hopes for a minute that the robbers would become frightened and run. Both men looked nervous and watched the dog.

When the newcomer was about forty feet away, the black-and-tan began to bark savagely and make short rushes in the direction of the pedestrian. The black-and-tan was estimated by Feis to weigh about forty karats, but it had a high-pitched snarl which caused the newcomer to bound backward at the first note. When it jumped up on its hind legs, showed its teeth and barked again, the passerby edged out into the street and described a half-circle, reaching the sidewalk again about 150 further on.

The two robbers glanced admiringly at their dog and then significantly at each other, according to Feis, as if to congratulate themselves on the thoroughness of the dog’s tutoring. Then they proceeded with the robbery, taking $43 and a gold watch from Feis.

“Stay here for five minutes. We’ll be waiting out there to shoot you if you come out before that,” said the man with the revolver. Then they started off, petting the dog, who danced frantically about their legs and gave little suppressed barks of delight.

An absolutely terrifying story and an always useful reminder that the South has never had a monopoly on hate. When mob violence is considered acceptable, it’s amazing how little it takes for people to reach for a rope.

DETROIT, Aug. 7.—A fight starting at a baseball game on the outskirts of Detroit this afternoon led to the shooting of two white boys, one perhaps fatally, and an attempt to lynch Sam Griggs, a negro, who is alleged to have done the shooting.

Griggs was saved by the arrival of local police and reinforcements from Hamtramck, a suburb, after a crowd of men and boys and severely beaten him with fists and baseball bats, and had tied a rope around his neck with the announced intention of hanging him.

The boys wounded were Victor Budkuski, and Peter Nadradowski, each 12 years old. The condition of the latter is said to be serious. They were in a crowd that had chased Owen Griggs, a negro, to the home of Sam Griggs, his cousin, after Owen was said to have struck a white child in an altercation over a seat at the game.

Owen sought safety in the house, according to the police, and when Sam Griggs came outside and faced the crowd at his front door, Mrs. Mary Andrews, his sister, handed him a revolver and he fired into the crowd, wounding the boys.

The crowd attacked the negro, and some one brought a rope and put it around his neck.

Stanley Gorlezvk, a Hamtramck policeman, tried to rescue Griggs, but was overpowered. A riot call was sent in, and police reserves succeeded in getting Griggs away from his attackers and dispersing the crowd. The three negroes were arrested.

Griggs is said to have admitted the shooting, but declared he was fired on first.