Giant 4th of July Parade in Anchorage...100 years ago
The pioneers of Alaska, with packhorses equipped for the trail, awakening the days when the intrepid conquerors of the wilderness first threaded the trails of the great northern empire...
The following is an account taken verbatim from the July 5, 1921 issue of the Anchorage Daily Times. Slurs, punctuation, spelling, etc. all as in the original.
The parade assembled on Fifth Avenue between F and G streets at 10 o’clock a. m. where Ray C. Larsen mounted upon Colonel Frederick Mears’ splendid dapple grey charger, soon had the various divisions assembled in order. Traveling westward to K Street, the parade swung into Fourth Avenue for the march eastward. First came the Marshal of the day, followed by the band with four platoons of soldiers from Company B, U. S. A., following. The pioneers of Alaska, with packhorses equipped for the trail, awakening the days when the intrepid conquerors of the wilderness first threaded the trails of the great northern empire, when to take the little Pac train into the hills meant long, hard days of cutting trails, bridging morasses, creeping along the face of mountains, fording turbulent and treacherous streams and bivouacking beneath the stars.
In regular sequence came the Sundberg float, representing an appeal for more liberal treatment of Alaska. A huge effigy of an elephant stood upon the platform and perched in a posture as if hanging upon his tail, a wee miss, representing Miss Alaska depicted the territory and an inscription asked if it was not about time to give Miss Alaska a lift. Then came the beautiful float of the B. P. O. E., executed in colonnade effect and emblazoned with the colors of the order.
Immediately the serious allegorical presentations were vanquished by the “horribles,” a gathering of comiques calculated to stir the risibilities of the most blasé. There were clowns of various descriptions, some wearing satires upon the sartorial embellishments of the feminine sex--a perfect “36” minus the “30,” rotund beaming females grotesque in their attire.
Then there was Chsey McDannel with an automobile full of kiddies, his chiefest treasures, all gleefully drinking in the panorama of events around them. A wild man from Borneo, simianesque in his grotesque makeup, led by his keeper who had his hands full in keeping his charge from devouring the interested spectators.
Then came the Co-Operative store float, automobile embellished with pond lilies and greenery.
Representative of the Boy Scouts came a bevy of these sturdy young Americans drawing an ambulance cart, bearing their field equipment and insignia of the organization. Beautifully decorated bicycles ridden by boys followed.
Just behind, suggestive of the deep woodland, executed in rustic good taste was the float of Notea Camp Fire Girls, members of which organization, attired to represent the primitive daughters of the native race, lounged amid the leaves and branches. The little wigwam was inviting and suggestive of peace and happy woodland life.
Little bluebirds.
And then came an irresistible picture of all that was lovely and calculated to appeal to the sentiment-- an automobile loaded with the “bluebirds,” diminutive little buds of feminine childhood resembling nothing so much as a bouquet of violets in their dainty little frocks, sparkling eyes and bewitching loveliness. Like Maeterlink’s prototypes, they were destined on a journey of happiness to Earth, strewing flowers and incense in their pathway, their baby voices to ring in dulcet strains throughout the happy homes that gave them being.
And right behind, as if placed there as a guard to shield these young Americans, was the American Legion float, allegorical of its mission, with Miss Romig representing Columbia seated upon the dais superimposed above the platform.
A miniature truck followed, with the anchorage Fire Department truck immediately in the rear.
Helman and Hartley’s float represented a division of the circus parade with clown and stuffed bear mounted atop the automobile and music purely circusesque emanating from within.
Squeezem Sisters.
Then came the scream of the parade—A. A. Shonbeck’s “Squeezem Sisters”--two vampish looking alfresco tightrope performers and dancers attired as if to answer the fair sex in reply to the query:
Where are the things I am want to wear,
Duhickers, cadooeys and things for the hair;
Whatyoumacallems, dooflickers, frills and dingbats,
Jabots, cahooties, tarantas and hats?
They rhaddemon all right--Gus Gellies, a dashing brunette, in a coming out costume, embellished with all the frills that go to make up an irresistible soubrette, and Carl Almy, with his titian locks and his dainty shoulders peeping above the flimsy material like the back of a barnacled whale emerging from the green crest of a wave. While Jack Coffey, the impresario extraordinary of this aggregation, delivered a stirring appeal to the public to take note of his beauties, as they threaded fairlylike along the rope stretched across the float, a simian captive beat the drum. The burlesque made a tremendous hit, especially while the mosquitos pulled off a similar performance along the exposed dorsal fins of the performers.
Bringing up the rear was the Presbyterian Church float representative of the little brown church, and emphasizing its influence as one of the strongest contributory factors in the nation’s life. From within came the sound of voices singing the well-known measures that express thanksgiving for the many good things a wife Creator had bestowed upon a happy citizenry.
After circling through E to Fifth and returning via Fourth Avenue over the old line of March the parade led to Athletic park, where the sporting events and exercises were held.
Caring for the Crowds.
With augmented schedules arranged to meet the exigencies of the occasion the trains began pouring their human freight into anchorage last Saturday, and continued up to Sunday night. Anticipating the inrush the hotels, rooming houses and private citizens prepared to meet the demands that would be imposed upon them. The hotels, augmented their accommodations with cots and improvised all comforts, while the private residencies of many were thrown open to friends and others needing sleeping accommodations.
Business houses suited their hours to the convenience of the visitors, keeping open last Saturday evening and alternative hours thereafter that everyone might do what shopping was necessary before returning to their occupations along the railroad north and south.
Originally published in Anchorage Press