City Rejoices, Believing War Is Concluded. Thousands of Pittsburghers Join in Enthusiastic Demonstrations. Parade in Streets. Entire County Swept by Wave of Frenzied Happiness, Noisily Expressed. Denial Is Unheeded. The Gazette Times, 2 November 1918.
An emotional frenzy, culminating in an impromptu celebration of victory that turned into a veritable delirium of joy, swept over Pittsburgh yesterday. All business ended, all attempts at normality ceased, a deluge of confetti and streamers fell from office buildings, hundreds of thousands of city residents and workers rushed into the streets, parades formed spontaneously, bands played, sirens shrieked, and over all the church bells rang out the message that was passing a million times from as many lips.
A report that Germany had signed the armistice and the world war was ended reached the city shortly after noon. For a time the report was stunning in its significance. Men stopped each other to remark that they were taking it too calmly. Then came reaction. Mayor E. V. Babcock set aside the hour between 1 and 2 o'clock in the afternoon for celebration, and the members of the Chamber of Commerce, headed by Nirella's Band, marched through the downtown streets. Behind them filed Red Cross workers, Mothers of Democracy, and later thousands of munition workers from the city plants, beating time on tin pans and kettles, fell in line.
Soldiers Are Honored.
For the first time in its history the chimes of Old Trinity pealed a
popular air and the big bells rang out "Over There." From the stores and
offices poured forth the workers, all thought except of rejoicing
gone.
Over the county the news spread and for hours the telephone wires buzzed with anxious inquiries. Immediately the report was spread further. In every borough, in the townships, even in the countryside, groups of men and women gathered, first to discuss, then to cheer, the report.
Through Pittsburgh drove an Army truck train, and immediately girls and youths jumped to the running boards, the soldiers aiding them. Flags appeared as by magic. The Stars and Stripes, the standard of England, the tri-color of France, the banners of all the Allies materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, and covered the transport train.
Every noise-making utensil imaginable was utilized, and through the pandemonium rang the constant note of rejoicing.
Report Is Denied.
Then like a pall, came another report. Hours had passed and no confirmation of the first report had been received. Then it became known that Secretary of State Lansing had declared the report of the signing of the armistice untrue.
A hush fell over the city. The bells ceased their tolling, the whistles subsided. Men looked at one another in consternation. From the eyes of women, a little while before brimming with tears of thanksgiving, now sprang tears of real sorrow.
Into the downtown churches, as always, open, went hundreds of women, and many men. Quietly they prayed that the report might be true, if not yesterday, at least today, or tomorrow.
Enthusiasm Revived.
But no depression could long endure in the face of the contagion of
enthusiasm.
Reports always spread infinitely faster than denials. It had been reported on apparently excellent authority that Germany had surrendered. Formalities as to time, stickling for accuracy on the part of officials of the Department of State, and established facts, could not hold the joy of anticipation in bond.
From all the surrounding area there flowed into Pittsburgh last night, an ever-growing flood of celebrants, all intent on joining with as many of their fellow beings as possible, in acclaiming the word of victory.
Residents of the city, familiar with the Halloween fetes of former years, had all their memories revived and intensified. Horns blared, the clackers sounded their alarms, confetti was dashed everywhere, and up and down the streets swept the crowd, laughing, pushing, crowding, hurrahing, while the policemen struggled in vain to evoke some order out of the confusion.
Then the olden time march of Pittsburgh in gala time began. Up Fifth avenue, and down, they walked; up Sixth avenue and down, the side streets for the main deserted. There was no rowdyism, no trouble makers, nothing but sheer exuberance, in Pittsburgh last night.
All Sections Celebrate.
For hours the celebration continued, until the merrymakers, hoarse and
exhausted, in little groups, fell out of line. And it was early in the
morning before quiet reigned.
The scenes in downtown Pittsburgh were duplicated all over the city. In East Liberty, on the North Side, on the South Side, in all the more populated communities, the carnival spirit held sway. But the difference between this and former gala moments was marked.
There was reverence and awe, and thanksgiving in the very atmosphere. Joy too full to be restrained, happiness that needed noise and action for expression, pride and humility mixed together in the glory of accomplishment--these made the distinction.
Pittsburgh has had many a fete. It has never known a celebration like that of last night. In the nature of events, if the aims of America and her Allies are not in vain, it can never know a similar one again.
True or premature, the report brought a new sensation to Pittsburgh. Never before had such rejoicing been seen, never so much pure happiness as was reflected in the faces of the thousands who crowded the city streets; never had an entire community become so intoxicated with joy.
Victory Close at Heart.
Formalities were forgotten. Strange men wrung each other's hands in
congratulation; the homage paid the men in khaki was indicative of the
welcome home that awaits the boys now "over there." Cheers and shouts
mingled with breathed prayers. Pittsburgh has done much, suffered much,
sacrificed much to win the war; how much was perhaps never before
realized--only a report of victory could show how close the heart of every
man and woman victory for America lies.
Today, unless the report is denied, the city will celebrate further. A parade will be held in the evening, soldiers from all camps in and about Pittsburgh will participate, many bands will be in line, and a formal, if not less whole-hearted, period of rejoicing will be inaugurated. Council adjourned yesterday morning immediately after the report reached them, and indeed every other business activity of the city and county was suspended.
Nor could Pittsburghers, even though out of the city, be denied a part
in the celebration. From Washington, D. C., last came a message from Miss
Stella N. Marks, now in the service, but formerly a teacher in the
Pittsburgh schools, which graphically describes events in the capital. Her
message follows:
War workers paraded through streets, wild with joy. Soldiers and sailors of every nation joined in the throng and surrounded the White House. President Wilson appears to salute the Allied flags as the echo of the "Star Spangled Banner" carries far over the city. The whole scene is imposing. The department buildings close, and all join the peace parade, while wounded soldiers press the crowds. Tears and cheers prevail.
Pittsburgh & World War I.
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