Publication information |
Source: Brooklyn Daily Eagle Source type: newspaper Document type: editorial Document title: “A Freak Society” Author(s): anonymous City of publication: New York, New York Date of publication: 23 November 1902 Volume number: 63 Issue number: 325 Part/Section: [2] Pagination: 4 |
Citation |
“A Freak Society.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle 23 Nov. 1902 v62n325: [sect. 2], p. 4. |
Transcription |
full text |
Keywords |
Buffalo Historical Society; Leon Czolgosz (popular culture); society (criticism). |
Named persons |
Leon Czolgosz. |
Document |
A Freak Society
The Buffalo Historical Society is alleged to
have put in a request for the personal belongings of the assassin, Czolgosz.
It wants these trifles for its collections. If it does, then the museum of the
society must be the most splendidly uninteresting lot of trash ever gathered
by a company of supposedly sane people. The relics include an old grip-sack,
two towels, some old trousers, writing paper, blacking brush, pair of shoes
and a pair of socks. Conceive the state of alleged mind that would put these
things solemnly on show, in rooms frequented by clean and intelligent citizens!
Czolgosz’s socks! Priceless treasure. Distinguished from the socks of other
tramps by the label.
There is a good deal of this sort of “collecting”
in our country, but one seldom finds a sanction of it on the part of dignified
societies devoted to the study of history and the perpetuation of worthy public
memorials. Unless an article has intrinsic interest or value it is seldom worth
keeping. Yet, how many homes have been disfigured by vandals who cut pieces
from the carpet and curtains, shave wood from doors and window casings in order
to put these scraps into “collections!” On our ships a guard has to be kept
against polite thieves who will otherwise carry off arms, bolts, compasses or
other movables [sic], that they may vaunt them to their friends. They will take
bricks from a chimney, keys from a lock, flowers from a garden, pebbles from
a walk; they scramble for the rope that hanged a man, and a bullet dug out in
a post mortem is a prize to brag about forever. A pest o’ such “collecting.”
It may amuse babes. Grown men should be ashamed of it.