YESTERDAY'S NEWSREEL - S WWI LIBERTY BONDS & FUNDRAISING BULLETPROOF VEST LONG BEACH, CA.

Television highlights of the news of yesteryear. It's 1917, and here's Treasury engravers first plate for war savings stamps as first of Liberty Loans gets underway. On 31st of March, President Woodrow Wilson had risen from his bed, gone with the White House veranda, and himself typed out the words he read to Congress April 2nd. Said Wilson solemnly, "It is a fearful thing to lead this great peaceful people into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, but the right is more precious than the peace." And on April 6th, Congress votes a declaration of war on Germany. But war is a costly thing, and it's the people who pay the bill. In San Francisco, long lines of war bond booths in guise of battle tanks parade through city streets as West Coast goes all out in war bond drive. With social leaders as saleswomen, people in all walks of life buy stamps and bonds to buy the machinery and clothe the men of war. These were best dressed salesgirls of the year, and best sales stunt in Buffalo, New York was the act of this modern Daniel. He doesn't fear his cage mates half so much as he fears worldwide aggression from the Kaiser and his crew of well-armed bullies, but his audience buys its bonds from outside the lion's cage. In Cleveland, thousands of Buckeyes march in brilliant war bond parade to launch loan that will help save the world for democracy. War workers and war machinery are part of the colorful line, and thousands throw money into this gigantic flag. Hollywood's contribution is enormous. All over the nation, moviedom's biggest people make war bond speeches. Here's Douglas Fairbanks, and here's comedian Charlie Chaplin in anything but a funny frame of mind. In the nation's capital, a big crowd around the Washington Monument hears a voice by loudspeaker from a plane flying overhead. Miss Billie Burke was speaking, and it was a famous communications first. In New York City, some of the theaters' most famous names were war bond buyers. Here, David Belasco makes his purchase from a uniform salesgirl known throughout America as the little colonel. The sale of Liberty Bonds was rolling now, and to keep the army rolling, the sale went on. Here in Denver, Colorado, women on the home front do more than write letters to their men at war. Even children and their mothers buy stamps, for every penny helps buy victory. And in front of the US Treasury Building in Wall Street, men who are used to big money lead big drive for sale of bonds. Here, more dollars bought more bullets. And here in Forest Park, St. Louis, 300,000 people are gathered for gigantic rally to boost sale of stamps and bonds in fifth big war loan. Men and machinery won the war, but dimes and dollars fought the battle, too. Toledo was heavily behind the Liberty Loan and won a flag of merit for aid that won a war. It's March 1922, and here are actual films of historic demonstration of man's latest contribution to longer life. It's bulletproof vest, guaranteed to protect the wearer against injury from ordinary pistol fire. It really works, too, but time proves what this warring world needs is bulletproof people. No, it's not Disraeli, it's George Arliss, British actor famed for his stage and motion picture portrayal of one of England's most celebrated prime ministers. One of the theaters' most famous names, Arliss toured England and America in stage successes, then turned to Hollywood and even greater fame. On historic visit to America in 1924, here's Victoria Feodorovna, the Grand Duchess Cyril, claimant to the Tsarist Russian throne. With her homeland in hands of revolutionists, the Tsarina is living in exile, but is nonetheless royal and regal as befits an empress even without an empire. At Malibu Beach in the early 1930s, here's B.G. De Sylva, songwriter and motion picture producer. With him are the other two members of the tune-making team of De Sylva, Brown, and Henderson. Chief among their triumphs was score for motion picture Sunny Side Up. Remember? It's 1926, and surf is getting best of this swank hotel jutting out over the waters of Long Beach. Surf whipped by storm has applied for admittance, and paying guests have abandoned crumbling structure, and not a bit too soon, for as waves come up, walls of hotel come down. Breakup started with a mere crack in walls of building, but continued pounding of surf finally knocked foundation out from under the $2 million palace, and before the storm was over, the big building has no more appeal than a tank town shanty. It means end of room service. In fact, it means end of a lot of the rooms. A throne is given up for love. It's 1933, and in Switzerland, son of Spain's King Alfonso says, To tell you the truth, I am just living very happily here in Switzerland. To Switzerland, I am doubly indebted, for it has not only enabled me to regain my health, but it has also brought me the chance of meeting my future wife. I'm not this. I placed the affection of my fiance above everything. And I hope that all the young hearts are with me. I hope that you guys will be as lucky as I am someday. In Los Angeles in the middle 1920s, motorists no longer have to go to jail for traffic violations. No, it's not as good as it sounds, for the prison comes to them. This speeder needn't put up any arguments, because he's going to be put up in the city's portable jail for a nice airy ride to traffic court. Now, he probably knows what it feels like to be a canary. He's an argumentative bird, isn't he? Maybe he just ought to take this ride sitting down. Journey's end, the judge and judgment for his crime. It's fine idea, and this fellow is going to pay it, too. Famous flying first. It's February 17th, 1929, and on snow-covered airfield at Concord, New Hampshire, Leo Tremblay, 20-year-old student of aviation, makes successful attempt to fly glider being towed by automobile. Yes, he really got the thing into the air. And though flight isn't long, Tremblay proves it can be done and stays in cockpit for another try. It's bold flying with aviation still in the infant stages of 1929, but with so many new worlds to conquer and Lindbergh's famous leap of the Atlantic still so fresh in memory, the air is filled with pilots flying everything with wings. Cut loose from towline, Tremblay piloted his glider in 3-mi flight. Nice flying for 1929. The fairest at the fair. At Swank's, Southampton, Long Island in the middle '20s, society's most social and the royally rich hold a benefit raise money for a hospital. These cigarette girls are heiresses. And these highly treasured young women bury treasure for children to find for a fee. At own booth, Mrs. Enrico Caruso helps her famed husband with the decoration. And here the famous artist is sketching the famed social beauty, Mrs. Oren Root. She's pretty as a picture, too. Here are our wealthy waitresses, the Mrs. McKay, Ogden, and Quick. And here the children of the rich enjoy a tent show that has all the trimmings of a full-fledged circus, even the tent. Acrobats raise Cain with the law of gravity, while mid-'20s socialites raise money for a worthy cause. But the fun didn't get anything from these admissions. They're in for free. Sisters on first, mothers on second, and grandmothers on the mound. The late 1920s, and here's that famed all-girl baseball team, the Bloomer Nine. All joking aside, this is serious business with these girls, and their opponents know it, too. For Bloomer Nine is champion girls team of the time, a diamond aggregation that gave many an all-male team too many runs for their money. Where are the girls holding batting practice? Yes, you guessed it, in Brooklyn, of course. For where but in Brooklyn would you find a ball team called the Bloomer Nine? And a wild, woolly, and winning ball club, too.