Mop Shaking

The Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia collection has proven time and again to be a treasure-trove of interesting material, leading to several blog posts on important topics as well as the 2022 Conference on Conditions in Harlem. A surprising entry in the collection guide is named “Mop Shaking” which lists two folders dating to 1944-1945.

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Letter to Mayor LaGuardia, regarding mop shaking, November 28, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

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Letter to Mayor LaGuardia, regarding mop shaking, November 28, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Indeed, mop shaking violated the City’s Sanitary Code as did shaking rugs and dusters. The folders contain several complaints sent to the Mayor, many made anonymously. Consider an excerpt from a letter received at City Hall on November 4, 1944.

“I have a neighbor right next door to me who shakes her dust mop out of her front window every morning two and three times full of dirt and dust. My husband painted our apt. last week and our windows were open with white enamel paint on the wood work and this woman shook her mop out and all the dirt set right in the wet paint. My husband nearly went mad and had to take benzine and clean it all off and paint it over again….”

The frustration oozes off the paper. In response to this and other complaints, the Mayor’s staff would forward the information to the Commissioner of Health with instructions to “Investigate and Report.”

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Referral to Commissioner Stebbins, Department of Health, from the office of the Mayor, November 13, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Health inspectors were dispatched to the address provided and, inevitably, they found no evidence of the dust shakers. Considering the chain of events, that’s not surprising. The complaint was mailed to City Hall, opened by the Mayor’s staff, circulated to the Health Commissioner, the location was added to the inspectors’ route and the inspection took place. The results were relayed to the Commissioner, who, in turn, dutifully reported back to the Mayor the absence of a dust nuisance. Little wonder since days expired between the offending incident and the actual inspection.   

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Report to Mayor LaGuardia from Ernest L. Stebbins, Commissioner of the Department of Health, November 29th, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Reporters seemed to get a kick out of City Hall’s efforts against the shaking of mops out of windows. One report stated that inquiries “received a gentle brush-off from city departments in a survey conducted to ascertain where and how the daunted housewife may legally clean a mop.”  The city recommended wet mopping over dry mopping and pointed to the Sanitary Code which contained a variety of prohibitions including the ban on shaking rags and mops out of windows, hanging bedding from balconies or sweeping sidewalks after 8. a.m. in much of the City. A New York Tribune headline read, “Mayor would Mop Up Practice of Shaking Mops Out Windows” and referenced Mayor LaGuardia’s radio broadcast in which he said “It is very dangerous, because nothing is more dangerous than spreading germs or dust in that manner. Besides, it is a very serious offense.”

The radio broadcast indicates how seriously the Mayor took this issue. Normally his broadcasts on WNYC ran for thirty or forty minutes. In this instance Mayor LaGuardia was in Chicago and was limited to ten minutes for his remarks. Along with reducing the exorbitant interest rates on mortgages, commercial rent, leashing dogs, stopping smoking in the subways and the hazards of gambling, he included shaking mops… “a very filthy thing to do….civilized people don’t do it.”

One letter began, “I live near 180th St and the people around here think your request not to shake mops out windows is silly—all I hear is “what does he want me to do with the dust,” but Sir, judging by some of the dust coming from windows nearby one would think the owners of same were raising a victory garden under the beds.” The writer continued on to make specific complaints and suggest the dust was a cause of polio.

Another plea: “I have hesitated writing you regarding warning people not to shake their dust mops out of windows. However, it has gotten to a point where I must ask your help,” from 115 B West 168th Street, the Bronx. There was an anonymous complaint about a Mrs. Grillo in Woodside who allegedly shook her carpets.  Commissioner Ernest Stebbins reported that Grillo “was instructed not to cause any nuisance.”

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“How to Clean a Mop in New York,” New York World-Telegram, October 26, 1944. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

It’s actually remarkable that any violations were issued at all. Nevertheless, The New York World Telegram reported that in October 1944 two housewives were fined $5.00 each for the violation. The City even included this menace in a public service announcement that also focused on littering on the subways and sticking gum on the seats.  

The sanitary code now is administered by the City’s Department of Sanitation. The penalty for shaking or beating a mat, carpet or cloth that creates litter or dust is punished with a $50.00 fine for the first offense and $100.00 for subsequent violations. There’s no word on whether violations have actually been issued.

Silent Toasts and Solo Flights: Mayor LaGuardia’s Forgotten Fraternity

In a letter dated November 2, 1934, an unnamed writer remarked, “Glad to see La Guardia in again at last Monday’s dinner. His job does not give him many evenings off.” The letter was signed “Cordially Yours, HOUSE COMMITTEE,” and found its way into Mayor LaGuardia’s subject files, now at the Municipal Archives. At first glance, the letter seems ordinary. At the end of 1934, Fiorello H. LaGuardia was finishing up his first year as New York City’s mayor, following a notable two-term stint in Congress. He certainly would have been invited to many dinners, and indeed, did not have many evenings off. Yet the letter becomes more interesting in context. It follows up on an earlier one sent to Mayor LaGuardia’s assistant, Lester B. Stone, which requests:

Some Monday evening, when the Major is not too much crowded and would like to slip away for an hour or two where he will not be under restraint, observation, and can feel free to do what he likes, route him up to the Quiet Birdmen. Better not send him up on the first Monday night of the month because it is pretty well crowded that night. Other nights...would, I think, probably be more agreeable to him; he sees enough of crowds.

Please express our kindest regards and best wishes to the Mayor, and tell him that we all think he is doing a swell job.[1]

The letter was signed by Guy Kelcey, Chairman of the House Committee, and was carefully typed on letterhead of the Anciente and Secret Order of the Quiet Birdmen. These missives are just two among a total of twenty-seven letters Mayor LaGuardia received from the Quiet Birdmen. Yet the Order is not mentioned in biographies of the Mayor.

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Letter from the Anciente and Secret Order of Quiet Birdmen inviting the mayor to attend, May 29, 1934, Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Collection. NYC Municipal Archives

That LaGuardia was a member of fraternal organizations is no secret. Fraternalism was hugely popular among American men in the early twentieth century, and many prominent individuals were members of fraternal societies. LaGuardia himself was a Freemason for most of his adult life, having joined Garibaldi Lodge No. 542 in New York City.[2] The Freemasons are well known, and have included many noteworthy figures, yet the Quiet Birdmen are almost unheard of. From the letters of 1934, it seems the Birdmen were either courting the Mayor as a prospective member, or already included him among their ranks. A look at the history of the fraternity and LaGuardia’s earlier life reveals why.

The Anciente and Secret Order of Quiet Birdmen was, according to its own letterhead, founded in 1921, and headquartered at 220 West 42nd Street. Newsletters received by the mayor over the course of two years shed light on the nature of the group. A two-page description of the order received in December 1935 states, “QB is a wholly social fraternity composed of men who have soloed at least one type of powered aircraft and who have demonstrated exceptional qualities of good sportsmanship and fellowship.” The order was organized into local “Hangars” and claimed to be “without constitution, by laws [sic], officers, dues, or other formal organization.” One of the main customs of the group, mentioned in almost every newsletter, was the Silent Toast to honor those members who had “gone West,” i.e. died.

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Mayor LaGuardia, a pilot and war veteran, was just the kind of member the Quiet Birdman wanted. LaGuardia on Alaskan Highway tour with unidentified officers, 1943. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Photograph Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

As LaGuardia well knew, aviation was in its infancy and deaths of pilots were common. In 1915, La Guardia had taken flying lessons on Long Island, and then enlisted the following year in the US Army Air Service. He served in Europe during World War I, surviving two plane crashes. He did all of this while serving as a US Congressman.[3] LaGuardia loved the danger of flying, even after retiring from the Air Service and becoming mayor. In a letter to Charles Burlingham while in office, LaGuardia wrote of wanting to fly to Floyd Bennett Field for a celebration but being warned of a storm by the Coast Guard. The mayor said he had replied “in my usual boastful manner... that I was willing to take the chance.” The Coast Guard admiral responded, “We don’t mind you taking a chance, Mr. Mayor, for mayors are plentiful, but... good planes are scarce and hard to get in the Coast Guard.”[4] The Mayor was well-qualified for membership in the Quiet Birdmen, who referred to him by his Air Service rank of Major.

However, the Quiet Birdmen were not simply a group of daring pilots toasting the memory of their fallen compatriots—and indeed, they were anything but quiet. Their newsletters abound with complaints about unruly members:

The night of August 10th at the Gotham—just another Great Big Headache for us sober (or at least fairly well behaved) fellows. A 2-½ foot Lion (not Bob) was taken from the Lobby of the Hotel.... We are fairly sure who did this rotten, lousy job, one a QB and one a guest (we don’t know whose). Your hard-working House Committee is on the spot for this. WE WANT THAT LION RETURNED—NUFF said.[5]

That their meetings were raucous affairs with copious libations is obvious in the letters. Prohibition had been repealed in 1933, and the QBs, like the rest of the nation, were thirsty. Multiple times, the cost of dinner and drinks is mentioned, and the members are reminded that the hotel would charge for broken items.  

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Hotel Gotham, where Mayor LaGuardia attended a meeting of the Quiet Birdmen in October 1934. 1940 Tax Photo Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

In May 1934 the address of the QBs was 220 West 42nd Street, Suite 2007. By August, it was given as “Hotel Gotham, Fifth at Fifty Fifth.” Then in September 1936, the House Committee announced a move to the Hotel Algonquin at 59 West 44th Street, Suite 211, stating,

What with excellent facilities, a sympathetic and understanding management, very satisfactory arrangements, and an atmosphere much better adapted to gentlemen who are not yet on crutches, we will be much better off in our new quarters than we have been.

However, it became apparent in the next letter that the QBs had been kicked out of the Gotham for breaking furniture and discarding cigarette butts on the floor. Several members of the House Committee had to pack up the order’s belongings in one long night and had consumed a whole bottle of scotch and another of rye while they worked.[6] 

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Hotel Algonquin, the new home of the QBs after they were kicked out of the Gotham. 1940 Tax Photo Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

The QBs may have had a particular interest in the Mayor given his history with alcohol. LaGuardia had been a vocal opponent of Prohibition while in Congress, even going so far as to mix alcoholic beverages openly as a publicity stunt in 1926. Much to LaGuardia’s disappointment, he could not get a passing police officer to arrest him for this act of civil disobedience.[7] Less than a decade later, he became the mayor of a happily post-Prohibition New York.[8]

Yet, LaGuardia’s relationship with alcohol was more nuanced than could be assumed. In a book published during LaGuardia’s term as Mayor, journalist J.F. Carter claimed that LaGuardia, distraught by the death of his first wife in 1921, had turned to heavy drinking. While LaGuardia’s grief over Thea’s death was well-attested by his friends, the drinking was mere rumor, and the books were recalled after the mayor threatened a lawsuit.[9] Further, even while calling for an end to prohibition, he acknowledged the need for some restrictions, particularly for hard liquor.[10] This attitude would continue into the 1940s. As World War II drew the United States into conflict, LaGuardia spoke at the International Association of Chiefs of Police and called for moderation of hard liquor. “There should be less consumption of liquor now than in peace time,” he declared, adding that “decent people will not tolerate debauchery and excess.” Letters poured into the Mayor’s office immediately afterward, with many citizens voicing support and expressing complaints about drunk soldiers and sailors in the city. A public challenge to these statements was written by the chairman of the liquor board and printed in the New York Times on September 22, 1942. The Chairman insisted that rules were being followed and liquor was not a problem. LaGuardia denounced him unequivocally in a letter to the editor the very next day, citing a specific instance of the board violating its own rules in reissuing a revoked liquor license.[11]

Thus, while he was no teetotaler, neither was Mayor LaGuardia a libertine. For example, during his first summer as Mayor, in 1934, he had banned large jazz dances in Central Park. When critics complained, he stated that he did enjoy jazz, as long as it was not too boisterous.[12] Those around him also noted that despite his loud, aggressive persona, he preferred to keep his social circle small, and associate only with people who had been his friends before his election. As it happened, summer of 1934 was the date of the earliest Quiet Birdmen newsletters in his records. It is quite likely that he was invited to join the group at that time. However, his involvement may have been minimal. A newsletter from April 1935 bemoans that “Some of our members are so constantly importuned for autographs that it becomes a very serious annoyance,” and states that it is “bad form” to ask another member for an autograph. It is reasonable to assume Mayor LaGuardia was one of the members who had expressed serious annoyance and was probably keeping his distance. 

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Letters to the mayor following his call for greater restrictions on hard liquor. Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia Collection. NYC Municipal Archives.

In any case, the newsletters from the Quiet Birdmen ceased after December, 1936. Whether LaGuardia was a regular or a rarity at their meetings cannot be determined. What is certain, though, is that the Quiet Birdmen were proud to claim him among their ranks. In an undated membership handbook held at the National Air and Space Museum, Fiorello H. LaGuardia is listed as a member who had “gone West.”[13] His death was reported in the Times on Sunday, September 21, 1947, the day after it occurred. One can only assume that on Monday, the Quiet Birdmen drank a Silent Toast to him.

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[1] Letter dated May 29, 1934.

[2] https://www.garibaldilodge.com/garibaldi-lodge

[3] Heckscher, August and Robinson, Phyllis. (1978). When La Guardia was Mayor: New York’s Legendary Years. Norton. 21-22.

[4] Kessner, Thomas. (1989). Fiorello H. La Guardia. McGraw-Hill. 449.

[5] Letter dated September 1, 1936. Capitalization theirs.

[6] Letter dated September 30, 1936.

[7] Kessner, 112-113.

[8] Heckscher, 15.

[9] Kessner, 79.

[10] Kessner, 114.

[11] Mayor Fiorello H. La Guardia Subject files, Box 95.

[12] Heckscher, 69.

[13] https://airandspace.si.edu/collection-objects/booklet-quiet-birdmen/nasm_A19890646000

Policewomen

The history of women in the New York City Police Department is long and heroic. Female officers had to fight for the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with their male colleagues. In honor of Women’s History Month, For the Record celebrates two trailblazers for women’s equality within the ranks of the NYPD. The story of how officers Felicia Shpritzer and Gertrude Schimmel broke through the glass ceiling by demanding the right for women to earn a promotion is one of determination and grit that still has the power to inspire more than sixty years after they took their first stand.

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Brief History of Women and the NYPD

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Letter from NYPD clerk to Mayor Hugh Grant, regarding Mary Dolan, May 28, 1891. Early Mayor’s Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1845, at the urging of women’s social groups such as The Women’s Christian Temperance Union, the New York Police Department hired women as police matrons to improve the treatment of females and children in police custody. In 1888, State legislation permitted female police matrons to work in station houses. New York City hired the first four matrons in 1891.

By the early 1900s, some matrons were allowed to work with the detective squads and conduct undercover investigations. Unlike their male counterparts who could be promoted to the detective squad and were paid $2,500 annually, women could not advance past the matron rank, at a salary of $1,000 per year. In 1912, Isabella Goodwin, a matron for more than ten years, finally earned the title of first-grade detective after her undercover work to crack the case of Eddie “the Boob” Kinsman and the Taxi Cab Bandits. She was the first woman in the United States to hold such rank.

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Unidentified plainclothes detective and Det. Isabella Goodwin, ca. 1915. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

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Unidentified police matron, most likely in the Women’s Motor Corp, ca. 1918. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

During World War I, the Police Department established a non-civil service Women’s Police Reserve. On May 16, 1918, nearly 5,000 volunteers arrived at Speedway Park in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, to begin their training. The Department’s 1918 annual report stated that the women were tasked with “discovering unlawful conditions, teaching patriotism and aiding in the Americanization of the alien element of our city, reporting conditions of disloyalty and sedition and aiding the weak.”

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Drilling the Women’s Police Reserve for an emergency, ca. 1918. NYPD Annual Report, 1918, NYC Municipal Library.

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Instructing members of the Women’s Motor Corps in the use of the fire arm, ca. 1918. NYPD Annual Report, 1918, NYC Municipal Library.

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NYPD Women’s Ambulance Corps, ca. 1918. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The 1920s and '30s saw the introduction of the first Black women to the department, the formation of a short-lived Women’s Police Precinct, and later, the Women’s Bureau where most female officers would be stationed until it was abolished in 1972.

During the latter half of the 1930s, opportunities for women improved. Men and women could not train together in police academy classes until 1958, but beginning in 1934, they could participate in pistol practice with male trainees. In 1938, the Department administered the first civil-service exam for the title “Policewoman.” In addition to passing the exam, female candidates were required to hold a college degree while men only needed the exam and a high school diploma or proof of military service.

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Probationary Policewomen taking oath of office at Headquarters, March 9, 1939. Municipal Archives Collection.

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From left: Detective Mary Sullivan, Mayor LaGuardia, and Paul J. Kern of the Civil Service Commission watch as NYPD Commissioner Valentine addresses a room of probationary policewomen and men at headquarters, March 9, 1939. Municipal Archives Collection.

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Twenty Policewomen graduates salute at City Hall Plaza (in pouring rain), April 1939. Municipal Archives Collection. Policewomen were issued a black shoulder bag filled with their gun as well as a tube of red lipstick and powder compact. (Mayor Fiorello H. La Guardia is quoted as saying “Use the gun as you would your lipstick, don’t overdo either one.”)

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The Glass Ceiling Breakers

Gertrude Schimmel and Felicia Shpritzer began their training with the NYPD in 1940 and 1942, respectively, with Schimmel earning the prestigious Police Inspector’s Trophy for excellence in her class at the academy. Like most women, after graduating Schimmel and Shpritzer were assigned to the Bureau of Policewomen. In their early years with the department, both women worked in the Juvenile Aid Division, which found temporary shelter for children whose parents were unable to care for them. At that time, female officers could not be promoted above the entry-level post of policewoman, or go out on patrol; most women could expect to spend their entire career working in an office setting at the Bureau.

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Swearing-in of Probationary Policewomen at Court of Peace, World’s Fair, June 1940. Municipal Archives Collection.

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Mayor LaGuardia shaking hands with Probationary Policewoman Gertrude Schimmel, winner of the Chief Inspector’s Trophy, Madison Square Garden, September 26, 1940. Mayor LaGuardia Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

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Female cadet demonstrating self-defense techniques at the Police Academy show at the New York World’s Fair, June 28, 1940. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Felicia Shpritzer had served almost 20 years as a policewoman in 1961 when she and five other women applied to take the promotion test for sergeant. They knew the exam was not officially open to policewomen. Two weeks before the test was held, all six women’s applications were rejected. Despite their years of service, Police Commissioner Michael J. Murphy maintained that women lacked the physical strength and endurance to be sergeants.

Shpritzer sued the city’s Department of Personnel, arguing that to deny policewomen the opportunity to become sergeants was “discriminatory, archaic and illegal.” Taking the battle all the way to the New York State Court of Appeals, Shpritzer won the case in June 1963. As a result, 126 policewomen took the sergeant’s exam for the first time in April 1964. After the exam, Policewoman Shpritzer told the New York Times, “Pass or fail, I will never regret having made the opportunity available to women.” Of the test-takers, only Shpritzer and Gertrude Schimmel passed. They became New York City’s first two female sergeants on March 13, 1965.

In their new roles, the sergeants alternated supervising about 160 policewomen. In an article titled “The Police Give In, Name Two Women Sergeants,” the New York Times quoted Commissioner Murphy as saying “This day marks a significant milestone in our department’s history—the emergence of our policewomen from our ranks. For the first time two of our policewomen will wear three stripes. We welcome them and wish them well.” The article concluded by stating that no policemen would be supervised by women.

The two women didn’t stop there. In 1966 they took and passed the lieutenant’s exam and were promoted the following year. Felicia Shpritzer would remain in the title until she retired in 1977, while Gertrude Schimmel continued to make gains for women’s equality in the NYPD. On August 26, 1971, the 51st anniversary of women’s suffrage, Gertrude Schimmel became the department’s first female captain. At her swearing-in ceremony, Schimmel stated that it was Felicia Shpritzer who won the landmark case and that she should be the one receiving the praise.

In her new position, Schimmel helped lay the groundwork for assigning women to street patrols and radio cars. Again, there was pushback on expanding the roles of female officers. This time, the Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association and wives of some officers maintained that women were not capable of providing adequate backup for their male partners. Schimmel, now in a command position would have none of it. When she spoke to the Times in November 1974, she said “nothing is factual, it’s all emotional.”

In 1978, Gertrude Schimmel was promoted to deputy chief and served as commander of the Community Affairs unit until she retired in 1981. When she left, she expressed no regrets, but did wish that she had been able to take part in the kind of police work that has become routine for women today. She said that she “never answered a call on the radio and ran up five flights of stairs and called the ambulance. When I was starting in the department, women didn’t do that. And by the time they did it, I was already promoted. I’m sorry I missed that, but you can’t have everything, right?”

The Alien Squad

The Municipal Archives collection of Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia’s papers includes a series, titled Public Meetings. It contains reports from the New York City Police Department (NYPD) on public meetings between 1940 and 1945. The bulk of the reports date from 1941 and 1942. Like the records in the NYPD Special Investigations Unit (a.k.a.) Handschu Collection in the Municipal Archives, these reports offer a glimpse into the activities of New Yorkers across the political spectrum.  

Memorandum, December 12, 1940, Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The reports were created by precinct-based officers and those in the so-called “Alien Squad” within the Bureau of Operations. Reports of upcoming events were also sent to Mayor LaGuardia’s secretaries, indicating that City Hall was keeping a keen eye on political gatherings. A summary of meetings reported that there were 866 meetings resulting in 23 arrests between January and September 30, 1941, in Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx.  

Some years ago, the Municipal Archives offered an exhibit, Unlikely Historians, that provided access to materials gathered in the 1960s and 1970s by undercover NYPD officers. The Alien Squad monitored people and events perceived to be left or right of the center. Based on the LaGuardia records, that appears to have been the case in the 1940s. There are reports about a broad array of organizations: several different Communist Party groups; labor unions; the America First party opposing any intervention in World War II; the American Appeals Forum with the opposite viewpoint which supported “Americanism vs. All other Isms;” the Committee to Defend America supporting the Allies; organizations supporting President Roosevelt; one group of Italians supporting the war effort and another opposing Italian soldiers in the Allied army killing Italian soldiers under Mussolini’s command; the American West Indian Association opposing racism; and more.

German American Bund rally, Madison Square Garden, February 20, 1939. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

German American Bund rally, Madison Square Garden, February 20, 1939. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mostly, the reports record the date, name of the officer making the report, the name and address of the organization, location of the meeting, the speakers, number of attendees, topic discussed and whether there was disorder or arrests. One exception seems to be reports of meetings of the German Bund, which go into more detail, all of which seems mundane. Consider this from November, 1940: “A dance ensued for which a four man band furnished the music, all members of that local. It lasted until 12:45 a.m. the following morning. There was no disturbance at any time.” Another exception is a thirteen-page memo to the Police Commissioner from October 1941 that summarized the development of the nativist Christian Front between 1938 and 1941. It differs from all other reports in its format, analysis and length.

The earliest item in the files, dated September 13, 1940, summarizes an interview that Detective Stanley Gwazdo from the Alien Squad conducted with Joseph Loeb, resident of 85th Street. The report concerned the activities of Joseph E. McWilliams and his group. McWilliams was a notorious anti-Semite who held nightly street-corner rallies filled with hateful tropes. An August, 1940 New Yorker article described him as the “handsomest and meanest-talking man ever to run for a public office.” As the leader of the American Destiny Party and a failed Congressional candidate, this former follower of nativist Father Coughlin intended “to do in the United States what Hitler has done in Germany,” according to the New York Times. 

Speaker at the meeting of Christian Mobilizers taken at Innesfield Park for the Alien Squad, September 20, 1939. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In the report, the detective relates his advice to Mr. Loeb: freedom of speech was protected by the Constitution. “The police department, he was told, had no power to prevent any one from exercising his right of free speech and that it was up to the courts of law to decide whether that privilege was being used or misused.” The detective offered Loeb several suggestions for objecting in court to McWilliams nightly sidewalk meetings, including organizing the property owners to ask for an injunction, applying for the courts to issue a summons for violating the Public Nuisance Law, and business owners petitioning the magistrate to consider the impact of McWilliams speeches in front of their establishments. He further noted that McWilliams had been convicted of disorderly conduct and awaited sentencing for his second disorderly conduct conviction.

The New York Times reported that Magistrate Edgar Bromberger committed McWilliams “to Bellevue Hospital for ten days’ examination as to his sanity.” But McWilliams returned to the streets and public stage. In September, 1941, he was a featured speaker at a meeting at the Astoria Casino where the topic was “Praising Lindbergs (sic) speech and criticizing the New Deal and the Jews.”

America First rally at Madison Square Garden showing speaker and other persons in audience, May 23, 1941. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

September 14, 1940, was a big night for meetings and generated seven separate reports of events including a Communist Party meeting against conscription, the Socialist Labor Party discussion of Capital and Labor, the American Destiny Party meeting that included McWilliams as a speaker on “Anti Roosevelt – Anti Conscription – Protesting the delivery of U. S. destroyers to England,” the American Communist Party on “Keep America Out of War,” another Socialist Labor Party Meeting at Union Square whose topic was “No Peace Without Socialism,” as well as a pro-communist independent group at the same location that discussed “Keep America Out of War” and the Young Communist League that met at Steinway St and 31 Avenue in Queens where speakers were “against conscription.”  The Remarks section of the report noted “this meeting was becoming disorderly at 9.30 PM. and Capt. Zimms in command of the police detail broke up the meeting and dispersed the crowd at that time.” 

1941 began slowly with a January 9, 1941 report on a New Masses Forum at Webster Hall, with the chief topic being Russia’s part in the World. Initially a lefty magazine it eventually because closely tied to the Communist Party. In its heyday acclaimed writers and artists contributed work. New Masses author Joseph North who edited the magazine, chaired the meeting which also dealt with increasing the periodical’s subscriptions. There was neither disorder nor arrests.

Communist meeting at Madison Square Garden for Alien Squad, Earl Browder at podium, May 26, 1938. NYPD Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Things picked up. By September 1941, police officers documented ten or more meetings some nights. Held at Carnegie Hall, Madison Square Garden, the Hotel Diplomat, Manhattan Center, Town Hall, as well as on street corners and in parks, many of the events attracted hundreds of attendees. A September 1941 meeting of the Citizens Committee to Free Earl Browder held in Madison Square Garden feature attracted 21,000 people to hear Congressman Marcantonio and labor activist Elizabeth Flynn among others demand the immediate release from federal prison of Browder, the head of the Communist Party-USA. 

As late as December 4, 1941, the America First Committee was attracting thousands of people advocating to “Keep America Out of War.” After December 7, the tenor of meetings changed. Reports more likely concerned meetings “Supporting America in the Present War,” backing President Franklin D. Roosevelt and “Giving all out aid to our allies to defeat the Nazi, Japs and Fascists.”

Detective Gwazdo and a colleague reported on the March-On-Washington Movement which met at Madison Square Garden in June,1942, with 15,000 in attendance to rally “Against Negro Discrimination.” Speakers included Dr. Mary Bethune, the Reverend Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. as well as the President of the Baptist Ministers Alliance and the associate editor of the Jesuit magazine, America.  

Even a meeting at which Mayor Fiorella LaGuardia promoted the sale of war bonds is recorded as a meeting “protesting the atrocities against the Jews in the conquered nations by Hitler in July, 1942, attended by the Mayor, Governor Lehman and Rabbi Steven Wise.”

Report of Meeting, July 21, 1942, Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The number of reports dwindled in 1942. None are filed for 1943 and only a few in 1944 and 1945. Many record meetings of the Communist Party advocating for a second front and continuing to rally around Earl Browder. Other meetings are labor rallies and events opposing racism. 

Detective Gwazdo filed the final report in the series on December 10, 1945, months after the end of the war. By this time, he had moved to the Public Relations Squad from the Alien Squad. The Seaman’s Club of the Communist Party NM and the Chelsea Club of the Communist Party held a “Memorial to Pearl Harbor and Merchant Seamen who died there” on December 10, 1945. No disorder: No arrests.