TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT DECEMBER 9, 1918 P. 8
My Dear:
France is crazy. I have never seen anything like the last two days in my life and simply have no words to describe it, but will begin with Monday morning and try to give you some idea of the celebration.
At 11:20 Monday the guns in the forts near Paris all went off, which was a signal, and almost immediate from every window popped a bunch of allied flags.
The people rushed out into the streets, grabbed each other, and danced, laughed, sang and kissed each other, and anyone else who may have been around.
I was going just across the street from Maxins at the time. By 12 o’clock the stores were all closed and the streets and boulevards were a solid mass from building to building. The boulevards are all very wide, but all traffic was stopped except the trucks, autos, taxis and wagons that joined the parade. People piled on promiscuously. The American uniform was a signal to everybody to yell “Viva La Amerique,” and it was a continuous hugging and kissing match. The girls would stop you and say “Will you kiss me, please?” and, of course, I didn’t refuse, for that would not have been either polite or following out the spirit of victory.
There have been a bunch of German cannons on exhibition, and the crowd pulled them up and down the streets loaded down with people, singing and yelling in every direction. All that was necessary was to get a big flag and start anywhere and you had a parade in a very few minutes, the direction making no difference, and such enthusiasm I never expect to see again. The people would form circles in the streets and play “ring around the rosie,” until they almost dropped. As I said before, I never saw anything like it. Yesterday it was just the same and they say they are liable to keep it up for a week. I think I will go in with an undertaker, for I think they will all be dead by that time. When the lights were turned on the people let out grand yells. I saw people holding the little children up to see the clusters of light. They had never seen anything like it, for Paris has been almost totally dark for four years.
The fountains were turned on in the Palace of Concorde yesterday, and they were beautiful. Monday night the opera stars sang from the balcony facing the street for almost three hours.
When they sang the national hymns the crowd would join in, and it was wonderful. They sang the “Marseillaise,” “God Save the King” and the “Brabanconne.”
About 9 o’clock I went out to the Latin quarter to see how they were celebrating. There were very few foreigners out there, and the French were celebrating in their own way. They didn’t make as much noise as the American or as was being made downtown. They were in groups singing or would have an accordion or dancing in the streets. If it interfered with traffic the traffic had to either stop or go around.
This all somehow made you feel that France had suffered more than anyone else, and she has suffered, too, for four long years.
In a few days they will have the organized military parade, and I know it will be great. I feel fortunate to be in Paris at such a time, for it will be many years before they have just another such celebration. I will write you again tomorrow. Now that I have the time will try and write some of our friends.
With all my love and a big kiss for you and Puddin.
NOTES: Forrest Newton Croxson was writing to his wife, He sailed onboard the Lapland and arrived in Liverpool, England on July 18, 1918 as part of a large group of Y.M.C.A. workers. He was born on December 10, 1876 in Green County, Indiana and died in September 1969 in Little Rock, Arkansas. He is buried in the Oakland & Fraternal Historic Cemetery in Little Rock.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
My Dear:
France is crazy. I have never seen anything like the last two days in my life and simply have no words to describe it, but will begin with Monday morning and try to give you some idea of the celebration.
At 11:20 Monday the guns in the forts near Paris all went off, which was a signal, and almost immediate from every window popped a bunch of allied flags.
The people rushed out into the streets, grabbed each other, and danced, laughed, sang and kissed each other, and anyone else who may have been around.
I was going just across the street from Maxins at the time. By 12 o’clock the stores were all closed and the streets and boulevards were a solid mass from building to building. The boulevards are all very wide, but all traffic was stopped except the trucks, autos, taxis and wagons that joined the parade. People piled on promiscuously. The American uniform was a signal to everybody to yell “Viva La Amerique,” and it was a continuous hugging and kissing match. The girls would stop you and say “Will you kiss me, please?” and, of course, I didn’t refuse, for that would not have been either polite or following out the spirit of victory.
There have been a bunch of German cannons on exhibition, and the crowd pulled them up and down the streets loaded down with people, singing and yelling in every direction. All that was necessary was to get a big flag and start anywhere and you had a parade in a very few minutes, the direction making no difference, and such enthusiasm I never expect to see again. The people would form circles in the streets and play “ring around the rosie,” until they almost dropped. As I said before, I never saw anything like it. Yesterday it was just the same and they say they are liable to keep it up for a week. I think I will go in with an undertaker, for I think they will all be dead by that time. When the lights were turned on the people let out grand yells. I saw people holding the little children up to see the clusters of light. They had never seen anything like it, for Paris has been almost totally dark for four years.
The fountains were turned on in the Palace of Concorde yesterday, and they were beautiful. Monday night the opera stars sang from the balcony facing the street for almost three hours.
When they sang the national hymns the crowd would join in, and it was wonderful. They sang the “Marseillaise,” “God Save the King” and the “Brabanconne.”
About 9 o’clock I went out to the Latin quarter to see how they were celebrating. There were very few foreigners out there, and the French were celebrating in their own way. They didn’t make as much noise as the American or as was being made downtown. They were in groups singing or would have an accordion or dancing in the streets. If it interfered with traffic the traffic had to either stop or go around.
This all somehow made you feel that France had suffered more than anyone else, and she has suffered, too, for four long years.
In a few days they will have the organized military parade, and I know it will be great. I feel fortunate to be in Paris at such a time, for it will be many years before they have just another such celebration. I will write you again tomorrow. Now that I have the time will try and write some of our friends.
With all my love and a big kiss for you and Puddin.
NOTES: Forrest Newton Croxson was writing to his wife, He sailed onboard the Lapland and arrived in Liverpool, England on July 18, 1918 as part of a large group of Y.M.C.A. workers. He was born on December 10, 1876 in Green County, Indiana and died in September 1969 in Little Rock, Arkansas. He is buried in the Oakland & Fraternal Historic Cemetery in Little Rock.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT