Just the mention of its name conjures imagery of glaring lights, crowded streets, huge billboards, and outrageous scenes. People from around the world can speak to the location with so much familiarity that one might think the place exists no farther away than their backyard. The area is so well known that no matter how people reference the location, everyone knows of where they speak. The nation’s square, the crossroads of the world, and the meeting place all call attention to the same prized real estate—Times Square. And through the years, whether cheering to celebrate the end of a long world war, bundling up to watch a lighted ball drop from a skyscraper on a frigid night, or peeking at a peep show in the early morning hours, people rush to Times Square to see and give witness.
Despite its historic standing in the nation’s psyche, Times Square’s fabled past runs just over one century. Fewer than five decades before a sailor kissed a nurse on V-J Day, and a few years prior to the time when Time Square’s first multicolored lights glittered, people met at Longacre Square. Outlined more in the shape of a woman’s accented figure than a square, Longacre enticed patrons to New York City’s 7th Avenue and Broadway intersection. Though in the 1800s visitors typically met at stalls and talked about horses, as the nearby theater district’s lights shone closer, the venue and topics of conversation changed. By the late 1800s the area’s country feel could only be found farther north. The urbanization took on greater momentum in 1902 when the New York Times set up shop at the intersection of 7th Avenue and 42nd Street.
The New York Times constructed its new building, the Times Building, on a triangular landmass that looked over the square. The newspaper’s executives chose the location wisely. Not only did the New York Times, 375-foot-high tower look over the entire square, but in 1904 the world’s second tallest building sat directly over the city’s newly constructed 42nd Street subway station. That stop proved to be the busiest hub in New York’s underground transportation system. From that time forward, the 42nd Street subway exit funneled people from all points of origin and every walk of life into Times Square.
In 1904 the area’s new inhabitant petitioned for a name change. They succeeded. Longacre became Times Square. The paper that printed “All the News That’s Fit to Print” wasted no time making their square the nation’s most important civic meeting place. As early as 1904, the Times Tower’s powerful searchlight signaled Theodore Roosevelt’s election to the presidency. The spectacle drew a fascinated audience. The stream of light from atop the building could be seen for at least thirty miles.1 That light show, impressive for its time, would prove primitive compared to what was ahead.
While no sole source can be credited for the dazzling light spectacle that came to epitomize the area, Oscar J. Gude, a German-born entrepreneur, might account more than any other individual for the sea of brightly lit advertising signs. Gude saw Times Square’s phenomenal advertising potential soon after first surveying the locale.2 Not only did the area draw increasing numbers of businessmen and visitors, but its low roofs and wide-open spaces created a visual bonanza.3 In 1904, his first sign for Trimble Whiskey proved an overwhelming success. Propped at 47th Street, right before Broadway and 7th Avenue intersected, its moving light forms amazed Times Square’s pedestrians. Other companies soon approached Gude to enlist his services. By 1912 his signs dominated the Times Square nightscape.4 Advertisements that blinked, imitated movement, and spilled beyond rectangular confines commanded attention. Soon the lit billboards of Times Square competed with the Statue of Liberty and other city attractions for the tourist’s eye.5
Through 1945 Times Square’s fame and popularity grew, undaunted by those who questioned the area’s moral standing, or lack thereof. Over the years live theater, vaudeville acts, and movie houses took turns beckoning crowds to the square. Some motion pictures even advertised Times Square to the nation. In 1942, Yankee Doodle Dandy featured James Cagney singing “Give My Regards to Broadway.” Cagney won an Academy Award for his performance. Thousands followed the Oscar-winning actor’s example and made the pilgrimage to pay their respects to the street that ran through the world’s most recognized intersection.
Three years after the Times Building dropped its first lighted ball on New Year’s Eve, the New York Times added another reason to gather in the square. In 1910 they provided round-by-round bulletins of the Jim Jeffries–Jack Johnson boxing match. The fight’s reporting drew about 30,000 interested followers to the 42nd Street end of Times Square. People liked this immediacy of learning about the news in real time. The news agency took note and built on that notion. In 1919 they constructed an electric scoreboard to report in real time the Cincinnati Reds–Chicago White Sox World Series games. On October 2, 1919, as Belgium’s King Albert I and Queen Elizabeth arrived in New York, men and boys in black and grey top hats and caps congregated around the Times Building to watch play-by-play bulletins.6 In 1928 the instant reporting of news took on greater permanency. In that year the Times invested in an electric board that flashed the news in moving type around the building’s perimeter. The scroll—variously called a news ticker, ribbon, or zipper—became a fixture around the Times building, where for fifty years people gathered to learn about the world beyond the nation’s square.
People continued to gather in Times Square despite developments that could have potentially curbed such behavior. In 1937 Americans spent $900 million on radios. As a result, many thought people would stay home on New Year’s Eve rather than trudge out in the cold to witness another dropping of the ball in Times Square. The odds-setters were in error. Like years before and those to follow, people mobbed the nation’s crossroads.
While the day’s news often drew people to the intersection of Broadway and 7th Avenue, Times Square’s greatest attraction had nothing to do with headlines. More than anything else, the area’s free and dazzling light show lured visitors. Continuing the tradition of the square’s theater entrances on The Great White Way, storefront signs and advertising billboards lit the area with a spectacular colorized glare. Prior to World War II, signs such as the Bond clothing store’s large neon lettering stood out as recognizable landmarks. Throughout Times Square, visitors of all ages gaped at the carnival of lights and special effects. The manifestations never got old, and never remained exactly the same. As early as 1906, atop the Knickerbocker Hotel, advertisers erected electric spectacles that drew world attention.7 From 1916 to 1921, lower energy costs and new technology encouraged Times Square businesses to install bigger and higher-wattage signs.8 In 1933, visitors to the nation’s meeting place came to see Douglas Leigh’s enormous, steaming cup of A&P coffee. In 1942 Leigh added the Camel man, puffing cigarette smoke rings.
Up until World War II the light show grew larger and brighter. However, in the early 1940s, the war’s effect on the home front extended to Times Square. During those years the square’s luminosity dimmed. Defense necessitated the darkening. Even miles out at sea, Times Square’s glow outlined ships against the skyline. The background light made American Navy ships easier targets for German submarines. After the sinking of several Navy ships, in April 1942 the U.S. government ordered the lights above street level turned off in Times Square for most of the war.9 Even the Times ribbon had to sit still and dark until 1945.
But the dimmed skyline did not deter crowds from gathering in the world’s meeting place during the early 1940s. In fact, just the opposite occurred. In a similar fashion to what happened during World War I, people flocked to Times Square during World War II. Throughout the war Times Square was the center of the world’s most popular liberty port.10 New York’s vast harbor, the Brooklyn Navy Yard (the nation’s largest),11 and military training posts along the Northeast coast provided an ever-replenishing source of servicemen. And whether they anticipated their fighting days apprehensively or enjoyed their long-delayed and deserved leave, Times Square’s free public shows, often attended by celebrities to sell war bonds, created an irresistible attraction. In 1944 approximately 25,000 screaming fans stormed the Paramount Theater to see Frank Sinatra.12 Other excited visitors during that same year came to see movies such as, Our Hearts Were Young and Gay. During the war, Times Square gained a reputation as a B-movie paradise.13 In the warehouse of attractions, no single draw stood out among others. As one visiting soldier’s New York Post itinerary testified, the nation’s square brimmed with a litany of enticements: “I’ll go to Times Square and stand there practically all day smelling the frankfurters and breathing in the cold air from all those air-conditioned movie houses. And one of the things I want to do is yoo hoo at every pretty girl who passes by.”14 Rather than declining, Times Square’s crowds rose to unprecedented levels during the war years.15
While the growth in servicemen traffic created a local economic boom in New York, arriving sailors and soldiers taxed business facilities. To meet the demand, 200 military service centers of one kind or another sprang up to feed or otherwise meet the needs of the 93,700 servicemen and women who circulated through New York every week.16 In Times Square, sailors dropped into the Pepsi Cola Service Center to shave, shower, or write letters. New York became a home away from home for many servicemen.17
During the war, Times Square functioned as the thumping heart of the nation’s war bond drive. In fact, in 1943 Times Square was temporarily renamed “Bondway” to promote war bond drives.18 Government-sponsored radio broadcasts from Times Square encouraged war bond sales and metal scrap drives. In 1944 President Franklin Roosevelt lighted a six-floor-high Statue of Liberty replica that sat on an oversized cash register, located about a hundred feet from the 42nd Street subway entrance. For the seventh war bond drive, a statue depicting the famous flag-raising photo at Iwo Jima was erected in front of the 43rd Street war bond station. That famous scene stood proudly in front of Childs Resturant until after the war ended.
On August 14, 1945, what turned out to be the last day of World War II, Times Square anticipated good news. Business owners, residents, and visitors readied for the biggest celebration in the square’s history. New York had lifted the restrictions on lights. The Times ribbon, again operational, informed onlookers of the day’s news. Activity at the crossroads carried on briskly. Handsome servicemen and pretty girls filled the streets. Shows and spectacles invited every passerby to have a look. As the day progressed, anticipation of the war’s end built. Holding back became increasingly difficult. With Japan’s imminent surrender still unannounced, New Yorkers and visitors in Times Square wanted to let loose. They waited anxiously for word of victory.
That day, postcards for sale in many of the square’s stores depicted the area’s past and hinted at its future. Most shone brilliantly and colorfully, but none captured the square’s infectious spirit and effervescent soul. They couldn’t. Up to that moment, no image taken in Times Square could make the heart race. There was, as of yet, no defining kiss.