When Cleveland was hot, literally

         I remember the summer of 1936, as if it were yesterday.

It was hot. I mean really hot.  That was before air conditioning. Before television. Before “global warming.” Before we were bombarded over and over again with pictures of chunks of that same iceberg falling into the sea. The only iceberg we knew about was the one that took down the Titanic.

         Somehow we survived the heat. We put bed sheets in the ice box (the ice was delivered by horse drawn wagon), and cooled off a bit before going to sleep. We sat on the porch.  We went to the lake.

Me, Grandma Kolinsky, my sister Sis and my cousin Mickey at the lake

         Now we hear that “36”, not 2006, was indeed the hottest summer ever, according to the weather scientists. And, as I recall, It was hot in more ways than one.

         The Facists were winning in that bloody Civil War in Spain. Americans in the “Lincoln Brigade” were dying trying to preserve some semblance on democracy. The Fascists in Italy annexed Ethiopia after a grim war.

         Hitler was raging on the newsreels at the movies.  Threatening to exterminate the Jews from the face of Europe.  Cleveland’s Jesse Owens was a big winner in the Summer Olympics in Berlin, and the Fuhrer refused to shake his hand.

Cumberland Pool 1930's

         The depression was at its depths. Unemployment was fearsome. The homeless were everywhere. (not only on Public Square.) Even middle class folks in the Heights were abandoning their homes for lower priced apartment rentals. (We moved to Euclid Heights Blvd.). President Roosevelt had told us in a speech at Chautauqua N.Y. that we had “nothing to fear but fear itself”. Not sure my friends and family really believed that.

Apple picking with my news bag

         The Republican convention was in Cleveland and nominated Alf. Landon of Kansas to challenge FDR.  And the Literary Digest poll showed that he could beat our beloved president. (They were so wrong the magazine went out of business.)

         The Indians were wallowing as usual. The Browns were the “Rams”, and played without significant distinction in League Park. Construction had stopped on some major building including the proposed, lavish Clevelander Club at 107^th and Carnegie. Our captains of industry, including the VanSweringens, were in the verge of  bankruptcy. The banks were closing. I lost my meager savings at the Union Trust.

         It was long, hot summer all right.  But I don’t recall a word about global warming.  We had plenty to worry about besides the thermometer. as the world itself seemed to be collapsing around us, one fearsome chunk at a time.

           

         Bud Weidenthal was a reporter for the Cleveland Press and  until 2005 served as editor of the RC 2000 Urban Report.