| The Evening Nonpareil.April 29, 1913. |
I really like this early Budweiser advertisement. It shows the Anheuser-Busch Plant in St. Louis, and references the local distributor - Jos. E. Rosenfeld in Council Bluffs, Iowa.
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| The Daily Times. April 15, 1914. |
If you grew up in Iowa anytime between the late
1950s and the late 1980s, there’s a good chance you knew exactly what time The
Floppy Show came on.
From 1957 to 1987, Duane Ellett and Floppy were a
huge part of daily life on WHO-TV in Des Moines. For a lot of Iowa kids, Duane
and Floppy were as familiar as the kitchen table, the school bus, and snow
boots lined up by the back door.
This was back when television wasn’t endless.
There were only a few channels. If you missed something, you missed it forever.
No rewinding. No watching whenever the spirit moved you. If Floppy was on at a
certain time, you got there.
Usually with cereal, in pajamas, and yelling for
somebody to stop touching the rabbit ears because the picture was just right.
Duane Ellett had a face people trusted right away.
Calm, friendly, never trying too hard. He wasn’t loud or fake cheerful.
He seemed like a decent fellow who had somehow wandered onto television and
stayed.
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| The Daily Times. July 8, 1913. |
The show had played in Moline on July 8, then crossed
the river for a July 9 stop in Davenport. The grounds were set up on Telegraph
Road next to the baseball field, but the real action started downtown.
Thousands packed the streets for the parade. Kids climbed curbs. Men tipped hats. Women craned their necks for a better look. Leading the procession were Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill.
The parade had about everything you could imagine.
Cowboys, cowgirls, ropers, riders, old stagecoaches, soldiers, and performers
from all over the world. A cowboy band played on horseback. Mexican Rurales
rode in formation. Elephants and camels lumbered along behind them.
Native American performers were a
major draw. Iron Cloud led the procession. Reports said he had been twelve
years old at the time of Custer’s defeat at Little Big Horn in 1876. Another
man, Yellow Hand, was the son of a chief who fought there.
The Davenport
Democrat and Leader called it “a pleasing blending of the Wild
West.”
After the parade, everybody headed
for the showgrounds. The afternoon performance kicked off at 1 p.m. The evening
show opened at 8.
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| The Daily Times. July 11, 1913. |
This was a new one on me. I'm guessing it was a department store that featured clothing and shoes, but I wasn't able to find much about it online. What I like best is the picture of the building and the owner, Dave Neustadt. The store was located on the corner of Second and Main Street in Davenport.
If you grew up in Iowa anytime from the 1960s
into the 1990s, you probably remember Randall’s.
Once a week, the entire family packed into the
station wagon and headed to the grocery store. Mom followed the sales. Dad
studied the steaks. But us kids. We made a beeline for the cereal aisle—Captain
Crunch. Sugar Smacks. Applejacks. Count Chocula.
And if you were lucky, you got a nickel to ride
the rocket or the race car in the lobby. Or maybe a few cents to blow in the
candy aisle.
That was the kid’s perspective.
Randall’s wasn’t the biggest grocer in Iowa. It
didn’t need to be. It carved out a solid spot, mostly in eastern Iowa, and did
a good business by giving people what they wanted at a fair price.
| Orlando Wilkins pointed a shotgun at Cashier A.W. Leach and demanded the cash |
Orlando Wilkins and Charles W. Crawford
walked into the Adel State Bank on the morning of March 7, 1895, figuring they
could scare one cashier, snatch the money, and be gone before anybody knew what
hit them.
Instead,
they kicked off one of the wildest bank robberies in Iowa history.
The Iowa
State Bystander called it “unparalleled in the criminal annals of the
state.” It sounds like newspaper thunder, but the facts backed it up. Wilkins
ended the day dead after taking three bullets. Six townspeople were wounded,
and for a few minutes, the streets of Adel sounded like open war.
Two men walked into the bank around 8:45 a.m. They told cashier A. W. Leach they wanted to make a deposit. Leach turned toward his desk, expecting coins, paper, and another dull morning. He got a rifle shoved in his face instead.