100 YEARS AGO IN THE SARATOGIAN
Wednesday, April 24, 1918. As of 3 p.m. today, Saratoga Springs residents have purchased or pledged to purchase $313,000 worth of Liberty Bonds as part of the federal government’s Third Liberty Loan campaign.
The total, comparable in buying power to $5,500,000 in 2018 money, is slightly less than half the Spa City’s $636.500 quota for the latest drive. It’s a disappointing number for local organizers, especially considering how much the city’s quota has been reduced from the previous drive.
“MUST SPEED UP LOAN SUBSCRIPTIONS” is The Saratogian’s headline for the story. “The local campaign has been in a slump for two days,” a reporter writes for tomorrow’s edition, “and it is time for the exercise of a great deal of energy and enthusiasm and speed if the quota is to be reached.”
Considerable energy and enthusiasm will go into Liberty Day events scheduled for Friday, April 26. “Tents will be erected at different points along Broadway and committees of women will be in charge of them,” the paper reports, “Every person who has not subscribed is urged to patronize one of the tents.”
A total of 1,896 Saratogians have subscribed to the Third Liberty Loan as of this afternoon. The government is financing its war against Germany partly through the sale of Liberty Bonds that can be redeemed with interest after the war is over.
Letters From The Boys
George J. King, the son of Saratoga Springs police chief James H. King, is currently stationed at the U.S. Naval Reserve Training Station in Newport RI. His recent letter home appears in today’s Saratogian.
“Some life, this – nothing like it! We have just finished another day on the island, and now all we have to do is go to bed, or ‘to hammock,’ to be exact,” the younger King writes. Military life has given him a modest lesson in American diversity.
“Our company sure is some motley crowd. We have a darn good-hearted bunch, but they are from all walks of life, coal miners from Shamokin, wood choppers from Maine and Vermont, cattlemen from Texas, farmers from Ohio, clerks from New York, and college fellows from Alabama and Georgia, and several from towns around here. Some gathering, what?
“When the officer calls out the name you hear a choice collection of sounds. Sounds like a cracked record, or a car with a flat wheel. Some we gargle, others we sneeze. The kids with the funny names get kidded to death.
“We wash about twice a week, and that job is not so hard as I thought it would be,” King adds. In case you’re curious, he means washing clothes.