 Our modern marriage customs come from the ancients. A man falls from an airplane 15,000 feet high and lives. A revolutionary song of derision is turned into a marching song of victory by an enemy. Can you imagine that? Yes, friends, once more this is Lindsay McCarrie back on your favorite station with more strange facts and fancies with which to amaze you for the next few moments. I hope you won't be too amazed to learn that your own announcer is going to speak to you for a moment or two and then we'll be back with the first can you imagine that item for this session. Did you ever wonder where some of our most enjoyable customs come from? For instance, those surrounding the marriage ceremony. Well, listen to the origin of a few of them. The custom of June weddings originated with the ancient Romans, whose goddess Juno, the faithful wife of Jupiter, was revered as the goddess of marriage and for whom the month of June was named. The custom of throwing old shoes after a bridal couple originated in the Bible, the book of Ruth, 4th chapter, verses 7, 8 and 9. Now this was the manner in former time in Israel concerning redeeming and concerning changing for to confirm all things, a man plucked off his shoe and gave it to his neighbor and this was a testimony in Israel. So the kinsman said unto Boaz, buy it for thee. So he drew off his shoe. And Boaz said unto the elders and to all the people, ye are witnesses this day that I have bought all that was elimelex and all that was chileans and melons of the hand of Naomi. In those days, of course, her wife was considered a chattel and Boaz not only purchased all of elimelex property, but also his widow, Naomi, and signified his purchase by plucking off his shoe. Another marriage custom. The bridal veil also originated with the ancients who believed that every young girl had a demon lover who would be violently jealous when he learned of her forthcoming marriage to a man. In order to avoid the wrath of the demon lover, the bride was always disguised in a heavy veil. Another charming marriage custom also comes from the Bible, that in which the groom gives his beloved an engagement ring to plight his troth and as a token of his everlasting love. But how did that custom of giving an engagement ring originate? Well, listen to this passage from the Bible. You'll find it in the 41st chapter of Genesis, verses 41 and 42. And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, see, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh took off his ring from his hand and put it upon Joseph's hand. Thus did Pharaoh signify by giving Joseph a ring that he was vesting authority and trust in him. Then later, but still in ancient times, this scene took place. I pledge my faith and my love for thee. And I for thee. Then one half of this piece of gold you will keep and the other half shall I keep until our marriage day and let all men know that thou hast my gold and belong to me. The young lady kept half the gold and the young man kept the other half. But carrying that piece of gold around may have been a little troublesome and it wasn't always in plain sight. So what was handier than a ring which could be worn in the finger and which was therefore always in sight? Thus we have antiquity and the pertinacity of custom of our modern customs. Well now a far cry from ancient customs is this little modernism. It seems that winged mercury and slivered of cupid flew hand in hand over a Southern California field on July 23rd, 1938 to assist a young couple to avoid the annoyance of complying with a certain California law. On that day, Edward von Glath, age 32, and Jane Webster, age 24, are riding in a big airliner piloted by Captain Richard Bowman. Captain Bowman, yes? How high are we now? Almost 16,000 feet. 16,000? Well, let's go then. Ready, honey? Uh-huh. Okay, I'll get the barograph, sir. All right, here we go. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this country to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate institution. Solemnly pilot Bowman reaches the marriage ceremony, joining Edward von Glath and Jane Webster. At length, he speaks the final words. For as much as Edward and Jane have consented together in holy wedlock and have witnessed the same before God and this company and there too have given and pledged their fraud each to the other and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring and by joining hands, I pronounce that they are man and wife. And so it was on that day, Edward von Glath and his fiancee Jane Webster were married by the captain of an airliner three miles above the earth. The reason? Well, there's a California law which provides that all couples intending to wed must file an intention at least three days before the ceremony. And von Glath and Miss Webster were married by Captain Bowman in his plane in order to escape the necessity of complying with that law and in order to prove that a marriage ceremony performed by the captain of an airliner three miles above the earth is as legal as one performed by the captain of an ocean liner three miles out the sea. Can you imagine that? There probably have been many aspirants for the title of the luckiest man alive and most of them have good backing for their claims but the can you imagine that palm goes to Captain J. H. Hadley of Chicago, Illinois. Why? Well, listen to this amazing story. It was in the year 1918 on January 6 to be exact that Captain Hadley was flying in the world war. On this particular day he was assigned to the observer's seat in a plane flown by Lieutenant Makepeace, a Canadian flying officer. All went well until at an altitude of 15,000 feet Get a good look at that railroad down there. Looks like a troop train. Yeah. Hey look, German planes. They see us. They're coming in for combat. We can't beat them home. We'll have to make a running fight out of it. Here we go. Suddenly, in a maneuver calculated by Lieutenant Makepeace to throw an attacker off his tail Hadley was catapulted from his seat and out into the air with nothing below him but space. Machine guns chattered, planes roared and dived and Captain Hadley well listened to the account in the logbook of the flight. January 6, 1918. Machine number 7255. Height 15,000 feet. Lieutenant Makepeace MC reports Captain J.H. Hadley accidentally thrown into air. Afterwards, a lighted on tail, same machine and rescued. Can you imagine that? That brief report in the log doesn't show Captain Hadley's feelings when he was bucked from the plane or does it record what must have been sheer stark amazement when he found himself thrown back onto the tail of the same plane probably drawn in by the suction. Personally, I nominate J.H. Hadley for the office of the luckiest man alive. Do I hear any seconds? Many years ago, Charles A. Dana, famous newspaper editor, made this statement. If a dog bites a man, it's not news. But if a man bites a dog, then you have a story. Ever since Mr. Dana made that statement, people have used it without thinking much about it except to remember that news must be important. But from a newspaper of April 26, 1929, comes a story that illustrates down to the finest detail that man bites dog as news. It was in that month that Mr. Francis M. Eckhart of Denver, Colorado, was walking with his friend, Miss Dorothy Hamm. Gee, this is a fine night, isn't it? Spring just around the corner, the leaves budding out on the trees. Maybe you should have been a poet. Oh, a dog. Say it. I didn't notice him. Gosh, he's a big fella. A police dog. Go on. Go on home, boy. Go on. Go on away. Francis is coming at me. You shouldn't have waved your arm. Look out. He's biting me. Francis, help! The blows delivered by Mr. Eckhart's fists only served to infuriate the beast even more. Then, in desperation, Mr. Eckhart lunged at the dog and... And what did Mr. Eckhart do to that dog? Well, in his own words said that intrepid gentleman, hitting him didn't do any good. I had to do something quickly because he had his teeth in Dorothy's arm. So I leaned over and sank my teeth in his ear, just as hard as I could. He let loose of Dorothy's arm and went howling down the street as if there were a whole flock of tin cans tied to his tail. And there is Mr. Charles Dana's maximum come-to-life and the person of Mr. Francis Eckhart who literally bit himself a niche in journalism's hall of fame by biting a dog. Can you imagine that? At the beginning of this program, you heard the statement... A revolutionary song of derision is turned into a marching song of victory by an enemy. It was previous to the American Revolution that the British soldiers, smartly uniformed, immaculately groomed, well-trained and drills and maneuvers, were stationed on the east bank of the Hudson River in New York in June of 1755 under the command of General Amherst. The French and Indian War was being fought and, of course, the colonial or provincial troops were solicited to help in the campaign. These colonial troops were a motley assortment of men from the early colonies, some in long coats, some in short coats, some wearing their hair along, some short, and some even proudly displaying enormous wigs. They were, quite naturally, the subject of many derisive jeering jibes from the smart British regulars. During this period, a regimental surgeon Richard Schuckberg decided to taunt the Tattered Continentals further by forcing a ridiculous, contemptuous song upon them in the guise of a famous martial heir. He remembered an old English nursery rhyme that went something like this. Lucy Lockett lost her pocket, Kitty Fisher found it. Nothing in it, nothing on it, but the binding round it. And so Dr. Schuckberg wrote some new verses designed to hold the poor, unsuspecting American Continentals up to disparaging ridicule. The joke caught on immediately. The new song spread through the ranks of the colonial troops like wildfire. They worked to it, played to it, marched to it, and fought to it. And all the while, the English regulars laughed up their neat sleeves at the gullibility of the awkward colonials. What the English didn't know then, however, was that this same song was destined to prove a boomerang some years later. For it was this same Yankee doodle, now beloved by all Americans, that was the salute to the retiring English as the Army of Lord Cornwallis marched out of Yorktown in 1781. As the strains of the peculiarly significant tune being played by the British band, the world turned upside down, were concluded. The Continental bands quickly responded with, yes, Yankee Doodle. Father and I went down to camp along with Captain Gooden and there we saw the men and boys as sick as hasty pudding. Yankee Doodle keeping up, Yankee Doodle dandy. Mind the music and the step and with the girls be handy. And there was Captain Washington upon a slap and sally. I'll give in orders to his men. I guess there was a million. Yankee Doodle keeping up, Yankee Doodle dandy. Mind the music and the step and with the girls be handy. And there I see a little keg. It said we're made of leather. They played on it with little sticks to call the folks together. Yankee Doodle dandy. Mind the music and the step and with the girls be handy. And so this homely little melody with its ill rhymed verses intended at first as a taunt has become the symbol of American victory in the war of the revolution. And by the way, the only piece of music to be born of that war which has remained to be sung to this day. Can you imagine that? Well, there it is, ladies and gentlemen, another session of Can You Imagine That Goodbye now.