Publication information |
Source: Toledo Sunday Bee Source type: newspaper Document type: article Document title: “City’s Dress of Mourning” Author(s): anonymous City of publication: Toledo, Ohio Date of publication: 15 September 1901 Volume number: 26 Issue number: none Part/Section: 1 Pagination: 3 |
Citation |
“City’s Dress of Mourning.” Toledo Sunday Bee 15 Sept. 1901 v26: part 1, p. 3. |
Transcription |
full text |
Keywords |
William McKinley (death: public response: Toledo, OH); William McKinley (mourning). |
Named persons |
Abraham Lincoln; William McKinley. |
Document |
City’s Dress of Mourning
Scarcely a Store That Is Not Draped in Black
FOR THE NATION’S LOSS
Pictures of the Martyred McKinley Are Numerous All Over the City.
Toledo’s dress of mourning is complete. A great
majority of the business houses of the city, as well as many of the residences
in all parts of the city, by sombre drapings have been bade to bear mute testimony
of the city’s respect and its sorrow in the death of the nation’s president.
Never before in the history of the city has public
sentiment been so universally expressed by the draping of its buildings. In
the hearts of the people of the north the martyred president was second only
to Lincoln, in the hearts of all the people his memory will hold a place all
its own.
A tour along Summit street, through Madison and
along Adams, Jefferson and Monroe last evening was well worth the uncomfortableness
of straggling through the night’s drizzle. No turn could be made but what the
almost universal sorrow was expressed in some way.
Not satisfied with draping their buildings in
great streamers of black, rosetting the windows in the same sombre hue, and
festooning the doorways, some of the retail houses took great pains in arranging
display windows especiall [sic] in view of the national tragedy. One
picture which was greatly admired represented Columbia robed in the flag of
the nation, pointing with tear-dimmed eyes to the picture of the late president,
in a wide, deep setting of black.
Draped pictures of the president were everywhere—the
store without a display of some kind was the exception. From the window of the
city’s chief executive’s office looked down the martyred president. Great placards
were everywhere in evidence. “We Mourn the Loss of Our Departed President” was
a sentence showing from a hundred business house windows.
Even the street fakir with his ever fruitful ideas,
took advantage of the sentiment of the public and disposed of thousands of mourning
buttons of home manufacture, being old campaign buttons on a background of black.
The usual Saturday night rush of trade and commerce
was comparatively hushed—the public had not yet regained its self-composure.
It was an unusual Saturday night. Streets were deserted quickly. Stores were
closed early. The silence of death was in the air.