There are no cobwebs in the grand attic of Maryland history housed at the Central Enoch Pratt Free Library. Jeff Korman, its manager, has the answers to obscure points of local fact based upon a well-organized, rich and deep inventory of newspaper clips, old photos and printed materials.
He has created an informal talk, "Life in Maryland during World War II," which he'll be giving next week at the Village Learning Place in Charles Village. He is bringing some portable treasures from his collections, wartime food ration books and photos of Liberty ships at Fairfield. He says it will be anecdotal and reflective of all the odd and wonderful collections the Pratt holds.
This man has the answers and can tell you, for example, where the air raid shelters were in downtown Baltimore. If the sirens went off in 1944, wardens instructed you to huddle in the Bromo Seltzer Tower, the Two O'Clock Club or the Yale underwear factory on Hanover Street. My preference would have been to gather at another approved location, the old Horn & Horn restaurant on East Baltimore Street.
The level of preparedness for an attack that never happened was extensive. I'll confess to using my imagination when I heard that my neighborhood air raid cellar was in the old Homewood Apartments at Charles and 31st. A woman known only to me as Miss Hicks presided over a large spaghetti-plug manual telephone switchboard. I can only envision her grinding a siren and then calling out the all-clear.
Korman likes to tell of the confusion that happened on the No. 26 Sparrows Point streetcar line when a precautionary air raid alarm sounded. A woman jumped off the streetcar, then doubled back when she had forgotten to pick up a paper check given to permit riders to continue their trips after the all-clear whistle sounded. She went the wrong way to get her pass and blocked the vehicle's exiting passengers. The newspapers covered this little event seriously.
There were 20 prisoner-of-war camps in Maryland. German captives were housed at Fort Holabird, Logan Field in Dundalk, Westminster, Edgewood and in Pikesville at what had been the old Confederate Home and Armory.
Fort Meade housed three political internees' camps. This is perhaps a less well-known story. According to published accounts, Korman found that people of Japanese descent were housed in one section, Germans and Italians were in another and a group of German sailors from the German commerce raider Odenwald, captured by the crew of the cruiser Omaha in the South Atlantic and taken to Puerto Rico in 1941, were in a third part. The Sun reported the Germans and Italians were morose and not permitted beer or wine. The reporter praised the "industriousness" of the Japanese, who sought scraps of wood to make artwork.
Marylanders could not enter "prohibited zones" along the Atlantic Coast. Ocean City got a small dispensation, but only from sunup to sundown. No photos were allowed of shipping and military vessels.
Korman will be showing original documents from the period, including the ration stamps necessary to purchase food. While women's nylon stockings might have been in short supply, menswear was plentiful at the old Brager-Eisenberg store on Eutaw Street. London might have been in ruins in 1943, but this merchant was advertising "Englishtown" and London Hall men's suits and topcoats. Korman has a letter sent to good customers advising them of the inventory.
As Korman pointed out, there were pages of government regulations about life during the war. Block air raid wardens were supposed to know the residents and which houses had sleeping porches and fire escapes.
Blackouts were enforced. The National Window Shade Co. offered roll-up blinds in ecru, black and cream. The idea was to block out the light so an enemy could not make a sighting. Even the sprawling Glenn L. Martin plant in Middle River was camouflaged.
Victory gardens, where people raised their own produce, caught on. Henry P. Irr, president of Baltimore Federal Savings and Loan, sponsored a statewide competition and offered bonds as prizes. Constance Black, wife of Baltimore Sun executive Harry Black, tilled a hill behind her palatial Guilford home on Warrenton Road. She had her place done up in boysenberries, currants, red-leaf cabbage and rhubarb chard and fruit trees. She had such a green thumb she soon had an abundance. She opened a neighborhood farm stand and sold $500 worth in the 1944 season.
Her husband made more of a statement. To conserve gasoline, he rode to work in a horse and carriage.
The government issued a call for "Dogs for Defense." Officials sought Dobermans, shepherds, Chesapeake Bay retrievers, collies, chows, St. Bernards, German shorthairs and Norwegian elkhounds to use as patrol dogs.
A business that called itself the Canine Canteen, on the part of North Howard Street then called Oak, advertised dog "blackout blankets" made in three sizes. These coverings were heavy blue wool and, of course, had patriotic red and white trim, too.
"Life in Maryland during World War II" will be presented from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday at the Village Learning Place, 2521 St. Paul St.