When this blog began I thought an article on the successive fountains of Grand Army Plaza would be a good idea--but I found I had nothing to add to the section in the Wikipedia article on same.  Well, finally I do have a little something new to add to the story. This recently acquired photograph looking southeast across the Plaza shows the circular pipes in the empty fountain basin, with the reservoir tower in the background. Just below the tower you can see hoardings around the site of the Central Library, on which my trusty loupe shows a sign reading "To the Museum." This photograph was taken on June 26 1914 at 3:10 p.m.  by photographers of the Public Service Commission only months before the site was excavated for the IRT subway construction, destroying the fountain completely.

There are not too many pictures of the Darlington fountain out there. The fuzzy black and white images in the Architectural Annual of 1900 give no idea of the beauty that attracted crowds to spend the evening watching the display of color and light.  On opening night it is reported that 100,000 spectators gathered  on the Plaza and the berms surrounding it. In fact, if anyone has a color postcard of the fountain we would love to see it. The Bailey Fountain currently occupying the site creates its effects differently, through dramatic sculptural forms complemented by powerful arcking jets.  City Park in Denver Colorado has a Darlington fountain that was renovated in 2008, so I am borrowing it to give an idea of how Grand Army Plaza might have looked at night during the short but illustrious lifetime of our own Darlington Electric Fountain.

Photograph by kind permission of Atlantic Fountains

This sublimely silly program has resided quietly in our ephemera files under the heading "Clubs: Masonic" for quite some years. I am so fond of it that I decided it was time to give it an airing, and in so doing could not help but ask myself some questions. Who were these dudes? What was the  Kismet Temple they occupied? Why are they wearing this curious headgear? And what accounts for the sense of humor so unusual in items relating to fraternal orders?

In 1928 the Kismet Temple was located at 92 Herkimer Street in Bedford Stuyvesant, and the full name of its occupants was  the "Ancient Arabic order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine." This particular program invites members to an initiation and wecome ceremony for the visiting head of the order, "Ill[ustrious] Clarence Martin Dunbar, Imperial Potentate." The "Official Divan 1928" lists members and their functions which include  Alchemists, Imperial Bench Warmers, Camel Milkers, Purveyors of Sneer Zem Zem, Keepers of the Seraglio and Feedologists. The Illustrious Potentate of Kismet Temple for 1928 was Thomas A. Davis, of 151 Columbia Heights.

But by 1928 the Order was already almost 60 years old. One of the founders of the Order, commonly known  as the "Shriners", has a strong connection to Brooklyn--in fact, he is buried in Green-wood Cemetery. William Florence, a well-known actor and a Freemason, was attracted to the idea of a new Masonic fraternity that would stress fun and fellowship. Taking ideas for costumes and ritual from a musical entertainment with a Middle Eastern theme, Florence, along with Dr Walter Fleming, created the ritual and costumes, and in 1871 the first members were initiated.

A Brooklyn Daily Eagle article of 1887 reports that Noble Wayland Trask "has been given the authority to organize a shrine in Brooklyn, to be called the Kismet Temple."  At first the group met at 38 Court Street, but soon meeetings were held at the Aurora Grata Cathedral  (formerly the East Reformed Church) at Bedford and Madison Avenues. Over the following years the newspaper reports on a series of Arab-themed parties, dinners and excursions involving "hasheesh"  "zem-zem water" ball games and all manner of entertainments.

It was in 1910 that the Brooklyn Shriners dedicated the new, custom-built Temple on Herkimer Street near Nostrand Avenue. The architecture was in the Moorish style, and its auditorium seated 2,326. It was equipped with a stage, dressing rooms and an organ, with a basement banquet room and kitchen, a ballroom and a smoking room. The temple was built by Clarke and Stowe and designed by architect R. Thomas Short, (himself a Noble of Kismet Temple,) at a cost of $125,000.

Among 502 candidates initiated into the Shrine in 1923 at the Kismet Temple were Theodore Roosevelt Jr, Assistant Secretary of the Navy and the Rev Dr Newell Dwight Hillis, pastor of Plymouth Church. Other prominent Shriners have included President Truman, General Douglas MacArthur and comedian Harold Lloyd, who was a past Imperial Potentate.

But as with any organization, there was controversy among the Shriners. In 1929 the U.S. Supreme Court overturned a decision of the Texas Supreme Court, in the question as to the right of African American Shriners to organize lodges and use emblems, regalia and constitutions similar to those employed by whites. The Eagle noted: "So the Texas Negroes may be Shriners, if they flock by themselves, and no dignity that costume and formalities can lend to them can be abridged. The decision is a just one." There is much more to be written on this, as on the whole notion of a vaudeville-flavored oriental theme that reads so differently today than it did in the 1870s--but I'll leave that to someone else.

By 1966 white flight from Brooklyn was in full flood. The nobles of Kismet Temple  decided to sell their Brooklyn property to the Friendship Baptist Church and establish a temple further out on Long Island.

Behind the brass bands, the games, the costumes and the fun of the Shriners lay a serious purpose. The organization has created 22 children's hospitals in the United States, Mexico and Canada. There is never any charge for treatment at Shriner's hospitals, which treated 125,125 patients in 2007 according to the Shriner's web site.

The Brooklyn Navy Yard wasn't the only workplace taking in women during the war.  Brooklyn's bar scene was also reliant upon the female workforce.  In 1939, a group of female bartenders formed Bar Maids Local 101, an official union for women who had taken on the important duty of pouring drinks and lending an ear to war-torn Brooklyn. 

To legitimize their work, members of Local 101 completed three months of job training before they were employed.  They were also agreed not to work past midnight or give their last name to patrons.  Local businesses praised these women for maintianing the industry and creating a comforting atmosphere during a time of stress.  By the end of the 40s, the union included over 100 barmaids working in 75 Brooklyn bars. 

When the original workforce returned, the bartender and barmaid unions seemed to coexist peaceably.  But in January 1950 Assemblyman Alfred A. Lama of Brooklyn proposed an amendment "barring barmaids from bars" (as the Eagle so eloquently put it).  The female response made the cover of the Eagle, calling Lama a "chaser" and an "old meanie."  The head of Local 101 explained that the unions had been working together without any conflict.  But within two days, the Bartenders Union was singing a different tune.  With political backing, they took to the streets and protested against their female counterparts: 

Barmaid Lorretta (below) argued, "A woman has to make a living, and what's wrong with bartending?  During the war it was patriotic for us to work."  Another union member, Lee (at top), stated that she had two children at home and found that tending bar was more lucrative than other jobs.  The protesting bartenders claimed they were not starting a battle of the sexes - they just wanted their jobs back.  The secretary-treasurer of the Union claimed that he was "100 percent behind this amendment," but when he was asked if a woman's place was in the home, he had no comment.

Not everyone was so shy about defining the roles of women and bar employees.  In early February, the Eagle polled eight Brooklynites and asked for their perspectives.  Charles Snyder of 470 Eastern Parkway stated, "When I'm out bending the elbow the last thing I want to see is a woman - unless she's Lana Tuner."  Suzanne Pfeiffer offered an interesting compromise, "Maybe there should be handsome men bartenders to wait on women cutomers and pretty barmaids for the boys.  Then everyone would be happy."  Charles Roberts explained, "It's fascinating as the devil when women are behind the bar.  They combine sympathy with charm and eye appeal.  What more can a guy expect of any bar?"   Other articles noted that it was inappropriate for women to work in bars, that women could not mix cocktails as well as men, that women working in bars would "encourage prohibitionists" and that men were better able to handle the occasional barroom brawl.  Each of these arguments was countered by women (and men) who believed these views to be "old fashioned." 

Eventually, the Brooklyn stories died down, suggesting that Lama's bill lost steam.  But Brooklyn was not alone in this battle.  That same spring, Manhattan bar workers entered a dispute when five barmaids were refused admittance to the Manhattan Bartenders Union (which already represented female waitresses).  The union picketed the barmaids' bar at 711 Eighth Avenue and took the case to the New York Supreme Court.  A lawyer for the Union argued that barmaids were "Un-American" and noted that many other cities, includuing Chicago, had already banned female bartenders.  The court did not force the union to admit the women, but it upheld the idea that women had the right to work behind the bar.  The decision didn't quite give barmaids equal rights, but it did allow them to continue serving.