McClellan v. Coney
Coney Island and the Sunday Laws
Estimated Read Time: 13 min
On Christmas Eve, 1908, New York City Mayor George McClellan took aim at one of America’s favorite new amusements—the movies. Citing the flammability film, insufficient theater emergency exits, and the backlog of safety inspections, McClellan revoked the licenses of all 550 moving picture show theaters throughout the City of New York. The Bureau of Licenses was permitted to begin systematically inspecting theaters and reissuing licenses where safe to do so. But there was a catch—
George B. McClellan Jr., New York City Mayor from 1904-1909. Source: George Grantham Bain Collection (Library of Congress) https://lccn.loc.gov/2014682907
At the same time, Mayor McClellan was listening to testimony from clergymen “of practically all Christian denominations in the city” decry films as harmful to children. After hearing their concerns, McClellan agreed to revoke the licenses of theaters screening films which “degrade or injure the morals of the community.” But furthermore, he agreed to begin enforcing an old Blue Law which forbade non-essential entertainment on Sundays. The law stated: “All labor on Sunday is prohibited excepting the works of necessity or charity. In works of necessity or charity is included whatever is needful during the day for good order, health, and comfort of the community.” Deeming entertainment non-essential, movie theaters, concert halls, and other businesses operating under a “Common Show” license were instructed to close on Sundays or risk civil and criminal charges.
The Police Department was directed to begin enforcement immediately. Movie theater owners fought back, taking to the courts to challenge the Mayor’s actions. For three months, the fight stayed in the arena of moving picture shows. But in April of 1909, the press made the connection that all of Coney Island’s amusements—from traditional “shows”, in circus tents and concerts halls, to walkthroughs, games, and rides—were licensed as “Common Shows”. As The Brooklyn Daily Eagle colorfully warned, if the Mayor interpreted the “day of rest” laws to include Coney Island:
“There will be no ‘shoot the chutes,’ no steeplechasing, no running of Ferris wheels or mechanisms of like character, no visiting of scenic caves, no operating of striking machines, no music, no dancing, no running of carousels or merry-go-rounds, no games, no barking or spielers, no taking of pictures, no clatter of miniature railways, no puppet shows, no switchbacks, or, to sum it all up in the ungrammatical but terse slang of the Coneyite, there’ll be ‘no nothing, nowhere.’”
Amusement park managers’ worst fears would be confirmed on May 17, 1909, when Mayor McClellan announced that the Bureau of Licenses would only issue 6-day licenses to the Coney Island “common shows”. Police Commissioner Bingham was instructed to “enforce the [day of rest] law to the letter”, but there was an admission that it was unclear if the ban on Sunday amusements would hold up in court—and a legal challenge was all but welcomed.
Coney Island spun into a frenzy of panic and protest. As it is for amusement parks today, Sunday was a massive day for business; forcing amusements to close would be detrimental to their very existence. Turning to the press, amusement park managers each responded to the Mayor’s ruling with a different tone. Each argued that Coney Island was essential to the community; that it gave locals a wholesome way to spend their “day of rest”.
Former Senator William H. Reynolds, President of the Dreamland Company, calmly explained, “Coney Island, as conducted today, is the cleanest and most moral resort in the world. With very few exceptions indeed all amusements on the island are instructive, entertaining and character lifting amusements.” He continued, “if they are not these they are amusements that offer health and fresh air, such as the rides and scenic railways.” He also pointed to the Sunday operation of carrousels in New York City public parks as hypocritical. Frederick Henderson, of Henderson’s music hall and restaurant, seemed less assured and announced that he would cooperate with police officers. Others argued Coney Island provided recreation for those who couldn’t afford to travel far, stating the order would bring the “serious detriment of and unwarranted hardship upon the working classes, not only of Greater New York, but of adjoining cities.”
The most inventive response came from Frederic Thompson of Luna Park. Leaning into the Mayor’s statement that “there is no restriction against educational or religions entertainments anywhere, even at Coney Island”, Thompson asserted it was always his intention that Luna Park’s mission be an educational one. In an attempt to pad his park with legal insulation (and generate some satirical press in his favor), Thompson hung a sign over the park entrance broadcasting: Luna Park — Institute of Science. He then placed signs in front of each attraction, steering patrons to whichever lesson the attraction allegedly taught. Examples include:
Chute the Chutes: An exhibition for the practical demonstration of rapid transit as applied to elevated communities
Virginia Reel: A temperance institute demonstration by an intoxicating ride, to prove the effects of reeling
The Tickler: A medical institute for the cure of indigestion
Helter Skelter: A study of lingerie and anatomy
Mountain Torrent: The institute for the illustration of a mountain logging sluice
Monitor and Merrimack show: A picture lesson of the first iron clad vessels ever built
The Dragon’s Gorge: An illustration of gravitation
Additionally, Thompson prepared badges for park guests in red satin and gold lettering, with the the words: “Professor, Luna Park Institute of Science.” Walking back satire with sincerity, he went on to argue “When we opened Luna Park six years ago our motto was: ‘A resort for mothers, wives, sisters and sweethearts,’ and we are still sailing under that motto. We have handled thirty millions of people in Luna Park since we opened without one act of disorder.”
A stereograph of Luna Park in 1909. Source: Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Online Catalog: https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/92508752/
As City Hall and amusement managers swapped arguments, there was an impending sense of a showdown on Sunday, May 23. Earlier in the week, Police Commissioner Bingham visited Coney Island to survey the space and prepare for enforcement of the Sunday law. He shared that more plain clothes officers would be in use and that “public performances on stage are prohibited by law and are to be stopped.”
Still, cracks began to emerge in City Hall’s resolve. The first was an admission that most amusement parks were still operating on unexpired 7-day licenses, from last year. Perhaps for this reason, a more relaxed stance was taken on “automatic shows”—or rides. Police Inspector Russell clarified: “The intention is to stop Sunday shows, for that is necessary under the construction of the law. But the shows that might be called automatic, the roller coasters, the slides, the chutes and other things of that kind in the larger amusement resorts are not to be interfered with.” Additionally, several injunctions had been filed in courts against police interference at Coney Island. In these suits was included a decision by Supreme Court Judge William J Carr, which threw uncertainty into the Mayor’s 6-day license strategy.
As a result, Sunday, May 23 came and went with little fanfare. An estimated 150,000 people turned out to play at Coney Island and all parks and most attractions were open to receive them. Still, some concessions were made to appear more law-abiding. Some performers ditched their colorful costumes in favor of street clothes (perhaps to appear more inconspicuous) and the free circuses were closed. The police appeared to take the position of non-interference, attributed to the multiple court injunctions. But on Monday, their strategy was revealed as warrants were issued for five businesses that operated the previous day. The amusements included moving picture shows, a concert hall, a shooting gallery, and a “double whirl”—a diverse, perhaps-carefully selected spectrum of amusements to serve as test cases for the further enforcement of the law.
But the court wasn’t having any of it. The five test cases were presided over by Magistrate James Tighe, later that week. Tighe dismissed all five cases within 45 minutes. The press depicted the affair to be somewhat tongue-in-cheek and low energy on both sides. Representing New York, Louis Hahle stuck to the health and safety intentions of the Sunday law, arguing “it was not good for the human being to work seven days a week”. Hahle cited a previous judgement on the day-of-rest law which dictated: “the State was interested in having its citizens strong and robust that they might be able to defend the State and contribute to its good welfare by their well-being.” Magistrate Tighe sarcastically suggested that the shooting gallery (a horribly racist game called ‘Hit the N****r in the Eye and Get a Good Cigar”) would hone New Yorker’s shooting skills to “make men capable defenders of the State”. In the moving pictures cases, Tighe grilled the City on the contents of the films—once deemed appropriate, those cases were dismissed as well.
A 1909 rail advertisement, highlighting Sunday fares to Coney Island.
The following Sunday came and went, much as the last one did. The Coney amusement parks celebrated their win, but remained cautious with their operations. Circuses remained closed, though their horses would still be paraded for daily exercise. Police Commissioner Bingham announced that the amusement parks would not be harassed; police efforts would be redirected to seedy amusements and dive bars. This pivot likely garnered support from the larger amusement parks, which knew the less “legitimate amusement enterprises” tarnished the reputation of Coney Island. Bingham declared, “In our crusade against the dives we have the people with us, and also the proprietors of the big, legitimate, and clean amusements. My sole desire into make Coney Island more enjoyable for decent, clean-minded people.” While this was happening, Mayor McClellan made no comment about Coney Island Sundays, but the Blue Lawman had one more tactic to deploy—his own police department’s right to a “day of rest”.
In June, Luna Park’s Frederic Thompson filed an injunction against the Mayor forging ahead with only issuing 6-day operating licenses. Louis Hahle, once again represented the Mayor, argued that that the Sunday operation of Coney Island not only denied Coney Island employees a “day of rest”, but also denied the policeman who had to patrol Coney a “day of rest”. Coney Island was a unique space that required quite a bit of police protection
After hearing both sides, Brooklyn Supreme Court Justice Kelly approved Thompson’s injunction against closing on Sundays. In his decision, Kelly wrote: “[Luna Park] has been open on Sunday since it began operations seven years ago. Sunday in summer time is the great holiday at Coney Island. The Mayor is beset on the one side by people who insisted that any recreation on Sunday violates the law of the state and is contrary to religious principles…there are many others, however, who believe just as honestly that places such as Luna Park violate neither the law of God nor man.” However, perhaps frustrated by the overuse of court injunctions and inability of Coney Island managers to find a proper resolution, Kelly demanded that the situation be retried in three months to answer the question of Coney Island Sundays once and for all—“The motion is therefore granted upon condition that plaintiff stipulates to move this case for trial at the October special term and to be then ready to try it.”
As best as I could find, there would not be an October rematch. That October, the Coney Island amusements would finish their 1909 season and on December 31, 1909, George B. McClellan Jr. finished his second and final term as the New York City Mayor. The following day, on January 1, the new Mayor William Jay Gaynor addressed the City, proclaiming: “I enter upon this office with the intention of doing the very best I can for the City of New York. That will have to suffice; I can do no more.” The application of Sunday laws at Coney Island would not occupy Gaynor’s attention. In the spring of 1910, Coney Island’s amusement parks would open, once again, for another 7-day-a-week season.
I came across this anecdote while performing research on Luna Park’s The Dragon’s Gorge. I found reference to the ride’s science-y label as “an illustration of gravitation” and assumed the whole “Luna Park - Institute of Science” thing was some weird, turn of the century marketing ploy. It also reminded me of the famous anecdote that Walt Disney had horticulturist Bill Evans label the early Disneyland weeds with their Latin names, suggesting the unsightly plants were intentional and educational.
But as I dug further and further into this story, it began to feel strangely reminiscent of the COVID-19 reopening dialogue taking place between governments and theme parks, today. That’s not to suggest that the enforcement of outdated, unconstitutional, religious laws and an earnest attempt to keep a population safe from infectious disease are the same thing. But even then, some of the same themes echo through, such as the argument over jobs, privilege, and what is “essential” to a community. And reading through the protest reactions of the Coney Island proprietors—each with different tones and arguments, but aligned behind a unifying message—I was reminded of the CA Major Theme Parks Respond to Guidance Zoom Press Conference hosted in October of 2020. This press conference, organized by the California Attractions and Parks Association, gave a platform to theme park executives to make statements on Governor Newsom’s COVID-19 guidelines and the ongoing shuttering of California theme parks.
But ultimately, to me, this story is an encapsulation of the growing role of the weekend in America, and the emergence of amusement parks as a new, undefined medium for recreation. Attractions and moving picture shows were relatively new in 1909 and thus, fell under a “Common Show” license and regulations (a classification initially created for vaudeville acts). I imagine that, as The Amusement Archives post library grows, I’ll cover the transition to more a specialized legal classification of amusement parks (at least in some states). Finally, it’s clear that Coney Island amusement parks fought so hard against the “day at rest” law for themselves because they benefited from others having the day off, searching for something fun to do. I imagine I’ll cover the growing emergence of the American weekend and options for recreation, as a driving force in the history of amusement parks.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed today’s tale. I’ll return to the archives, soon!
Cover photo: Eugene Wemlinger. Luna Park, 1909. Cellulose nitrate negative Brooklyn Museum, Brooklyn Museum/Brooklyn Public Library, Brooklyn Collection, 1996.164.10-20 (Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 1996.164.10-20_IMLS_SL2.jpg)