Peaches and Daddy – A Roaring Twenties Romance

On the evening of March 5, 1926, fifty-one year old Manhattan millionaire Edward “Daddy” Browning, waltzed through the doors of the legendary Hotel McAlpin, and into the life of a fifteen year old high school girl named Frances “Peaches” Heenan. Thirty-seven days later, with the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in close pursuit, they were married. Within ten months they would begin a courtroom drama that would capture the imagination of the American public, and cast their impassioned saga into a national scandal.

Against the backdrop of Prohibition, Hot Jazz and America’s “Era of Wonderful Nonsense,” the odd romance, marriage and ultimate legal battles waged by this publicity craving Manhattan couple would become fodder for a rampaging tabloid media and gossip for an eager public. Together, Peaches and Daddy would become one of the nation’s celebrated icons of the early twentieth century, and their story, a forgotten gem of American history.

The shattered romance of Peaches and Daddy would find its breathtaking climax in a small-town courtroom, packed to suffocation, and stalked through the crosshairs of an expectant world. For five breathless days, hundreds of clamoring newspaper reporters and a wide-eyed public heard “Peaches” make allegations of “depraved tastes” and “abnormal activity,” and they heard an indignant denial of it all from “Daddy.” To him, this was a case of “non-payment of kisses.” The bellowing press coverage and the ramifications of the final verdict would reverberate through the American conscience for years to come.

One commentator described it this way: “They were the most celebrated, if comic, couple of their oddity-obsessed times: He, a flamboyant multimillionaire named Edward West Browning, also known as ‘The Cinderella Man’ for his proclivity for lifting pretty, young girls into the lap of luxury; She, baby-faced Frances Heenan, young enough to be his granddaughter, and digging for his gold.”

To read more about Peaches and Daddy, pick up Michael Greenburg’s book, Peaches & Daddy, A story of the Roaring 20s, the Birth of Tabloid Media, and the Courtship that Captured the Heart and Imagination of the American Public.

www.peachesanddaddy.com

Wireless Radio in 1924

WIRELESS offers more scope for enjoyment than any other hobby. This is a big claim, but any one who has cultivated wireless knows that it is a claim that can be supported by facts.

The one outstanding feature of wireless as a hobby is that it can be pursued anywhere, at any time. In dry summer weather or in the depths of winter, in brilliant daylight or in utter darkness, in the privacy of your own den or in the heart of the country, you can rig up your wireless equipment and listen to messages from the most distant corners of the earth.

You can make a portable wireless receiver which will fit comfortably into quite a small box and which can be taken anywhere without the slightest inconvenience, or you can erect a permanent installation at home.

The science of wireless has been developed to such a pitch during recent years that it is possible to pick up messages to-day under conditions which would have made reception impossible before.

Whilst boating on the river, for instance, you can, by means of quite a simple apparatus, listen-in to wireless signals from any of the high-power stations in the country. Or, with similar instruments, you can pick up wireless messages in a railway carriage as you whirl along at the rate of sixty miles per hour.

Many railway trains and motor cars are fitted with wireless to-day. Then, again, you can take your wireless outfit with you when you go for a ramble in the country, and you can rig it up and listen-in wherever you choose—provided you are not trespassing!

“What is there to be heard on a wireless receiver?” you may ask. Well, there are two kinds of signals to be heard: telegraphic and telephonic. Telegraphic signals are sent in the Morse code, i.e., by means of “dots” and “dashes,” which have to be interpreted before the message can be understood. If you learn the Morse code you can hear (and understand) the hundreds of messages that are exchanged daily between the high-power stations of the world, and between merchant ships at sea.

Without troubling about the Morse code, you can hear plenty of telephonic signals. There are six big broadcasting stations in action at present—at London, Manchester, Birmingham, Newcastle, Glasgow and Cardiff, and it is probable that there will be seven or eight in operation by the first or second week of October. The two new stations will be at Aberdeen and Bournemouth. These stations send out special telephony programmes each evening, consisting of news reports, stories for children, vocal and orchestral music, weather forecasts, speeches, etc.

The London station, for instance, opens up at 5 p.m. each evening, and at 5.30 the “children’s hour” commences, to be followed by an excellent programme for grown-ups. This includes selections from the wireless orchestra, and if you have a sufficiently sensitive receiver the music will be so loud that you can fill a large room with it. In hundreds of homes these musical items are made the occasion for a little “dancing practice” each evening.

Other items on the musical part of the programme include songs, violin solos, duets, etc., which are followed by a special late news report at 9.30 p.m. Before closing down for the night a forecast of the weather conditions likely to obtain on the next day is given. This, of course, is invaluable to people who wish to plan outdoor excursions overnight.