100 years ago in The Record
Monday, April 9, 1917
Three days after the U.S. declared war on Germany, Troy holds what The Record calls the “Greatest Parade in City’s History” tonight. “What began as a navy recruiting parade terminated in a patriotic assurance that the American cities are not asleep to the situation and that if their country needs them America will have no difficulty getting the men,” our reporter writes after between 8,000 and 10,000 people march through the city. Mayor Cornelius F. Burns, “a consistent dominant figure of patriotism and civic rectitude,” acts as grand marshal. “Never can he recall a demonstration which has so impressed him from the point of view of numbers and spirit displayed.” The line of march “covered the entire distance of Fourth street and Third street from the junction north to Monroe Street….When the mounted police had crossed Monroe street on Third on their way back uptown the last division was just passing into Fourth Street at Grand.” The parade reaches a climax at River and Jacob, when the marchers pass beneath a giant flag hung between Cluett, Peabody and Troy Waste Company. “Calcium lights illumined it and the smart breeze set it in motion. The paraders, or at any rate those up front, uncovered their heads and joined with the band in singing.” While “it is absolutely impossible to record every individual and every organization participating,” our reporter singles out formations of local immigrants.
“Many of them have brothers or other relatives in the trenches of France and Russia, but they have been impressed with the freedom of the ‘ land of the free and the home of the brave,’ and they marched along singing in broken dialect snatches of American patriotic airs, bits of which drifted toward them from bands and the drum corps.
“One with a knowledge of music might have detected an occasional strain that sounded strikingly like the Austrian national hymn,” but while Austria, Germany’s ally, breaks off diplomatic relations with the U.S. today, “there was nothing offensive” to the music.
“It was not intended as unpatriotic; it was simply a spontaneous outburst from the Poles and Russians of Watervliet who, having secured permanent employment at the big industrial plants of Watervliet, will never again seek the fatherland.
“A few years hence their knowledge of English will be broader and the American airs will come easier to them. Last night they were as American as their limitations would allow – but they will learn.”
One spectator is injured slightly when an automobile accidentally runs into a crowd while following a fire engine in response to a false alarm at the Rensselaer Hotel.