Curling Up with a Good Book of Obituaries

I wonder if Jerry Herman knew about that. In the musical Mack & Mabel, Mabel Normand has a lyric to that effect in the song “Wherever He Ain’t”.

From the June 28, 1923 issue (the same week as Bert Savoy’s colorful demise):

Which is a very nice way of saying, “Dat bootleg gin done kil’t 'im.”

I’d just like to pop in and mention that they don’t make names like “Captain Arthur H. Mole” no more.

USD186 for a single volume? Are they nuts? I collect obits, but for free off the net each day.

Jeepers!

Hey! Is that a euphemism?

Seriously though - I wonder how many older obits included euphemistic information about “alternative” lifestyles.

Not in this case—the obit goes on to say that the late Mr. Shea had been drinking heavily since his wife left him.

Unless, of course, she left him because of Captain Arthur H. Mole . . .

Remember how drafty old buildings were? It’d never build up to a high enough concentration before somebody noticed the smell. That’s why you had to stick your head in an oven.

But there were also lots of obits of people who died from accidental gas poisoning, like poor Edith Carper. The room filled up with gas, and they woke up dead the next morning.

I assume gas was used for heat as well as light back then? I can see where the “pilot light” on a lamp might blow out, as it still goes on my gas range. But hotel and boarding-house heat? Not sure how that worked 100 years ago. I thought it was radiators.

In O. Henry’s story The Furnished Room, the main character commits suicide by turning on the gas. IIRC, he prepares by sealing all the cracks under the door and around windows with cloth and newspapers.

But would the gas have been used for light, or heat? I know for a lamp, you turned on the gas jet and lit a flame, like on a stove, then put the glass shade over the light. How did gas heat work—is that what was always killing people unawares?

Or did boarding houses just have gas jets scattered around rooms for down-on-their-luck guests who wanted to kill themselves?

From Fodor’s Guide to Big City Living (1906 edition)

“Today’s modern boardinghouses offer all of the conveniences of home for the world-weary traveller. Many clean, well-appointed establishments can readily be found in almost any modern metropolis. Nourishing, flavorful home-cooked meals, taken “family style,” are almost always included in the nominal charge. The traveller has the extra added attraction of being able to readily interact and socialize with the other patrons of the establishment. For the morose, many boardinghouses now come equipped with in-room gas pipes so that you will never have to suffer the ignominity of being found in the kitchen with your head in the oven. The smart traveller may wire ahead and make sure this feature is available if contemplating a suicide while on an excursion.”

BWA-ahahahaha!

“Our new in-room ‘courtesy iceboxes’ now contain laudanum, and carbolic and prussic acid for demoralized soubrettes who prefer the dramatic exit.”

"Complimentary hotel stationery is available for those wishing to pen a memorable quip before departing this life.

The non-refundability of the room cleaning fee will be considered a moot point for all guests who choose to avail themselves of suicide. However, all guests are asked to remember the effects their departures will have on future occupants of these rooms. This is especially directed towards fans of the late Ernest Hemingway or persons of Japanese nationality."