Home Biography Discography Photos Filmography Radio Archives Recordings Labels Sheet Music Family Links Contact

DINNER TO MR. EDISON The entire civilized world knows Thomas A. Edison for his achievements and for his great contributions to the welfare of mankind. To millions of people his name is almost a household word. Probably the career of no man living to-day is better known than that of Edison. Several thousands of persons have met him personally, but the men who know him in his everyday working life are few. They are confined to those engaged in his laboratory work and the men whose duties as officers and department managers of the various Edison companies bring them in contact with him. These men know him for all that the outside world does and for many other things that to them are an inestimable privilege. They know him as the man who esteems those who are loyal to his interests, who can and will work, who do things and who "make good." They know his kindly eye, his winning smile, his willingness to meet and listen to them. They know him as one who would rather meet them as man to man than receive the homage of kings. To know Mr. Edison in this manner must, therefore, be our apology to the Edison Phonograph trade for this article about ourselves. We would not publish it did we not feel so deeply honored by our association with him. As all the world knows, Mr. Edison reached his sixtieth birthday on February 11th. In honor of the event an informal dinner was tendered to him at the Krueger Auditorium, Newark by the officials and department heads of the Edison Companies. Knowing that the more democratic the affair was the better pleased he would be, no attempt was made to arrange a formal banquet. The affair was a simple breakfast dinner and was attended only by those identified with his interests. Mr. Edison was among the first to arrive. A red rose adorned his coat and he declared that he felt no older than a man of thirty years. He was the only guest. His hosts were the following: William E. Gilmore, President and General Manager of the National Phonograph Co. and the executive head of the other Edison Companies; Alphonse Westee, Secretary; C. H. Wilson, General Manager of sales of National Phonograph Co.; Frank K. Dolbeer, Credit Manager of all companies; William Pezler and John E. Helm of the Legal Department; Peter Weber, Superintendent; Walter Stevens, Manager Foreign Department; L. C. McChesney, Advertising Manager; A. T. Moore, Manager Kinetograph Department; William M. Brodie, Manger Battery Department; F. A. Burnham, Jr., Sales Manager Bates Manufacturing Co.; Nelson C. Durand, Manager Commercial Department; Walter H. Miller, Manager, and W. H. A. Cronkhite, Critic of the Recording Department; J. H. Moran, Manager Purchasing Department; H. F. Miller, Cashier; A. M. Hird, Order Clerk; E. F. Aiken, Assistant Superintendent; A. C. Ireton, Assistant Sales Manger National Phonograph Co.; C. S. Osborne, Assistant Credit Manager; R. B. Bachman, Laboratory Superintendent; Fred Ott, Assistant to Mr. Edison; H. I. Moyer, Engineer of concrete construction, [sic] William Bee, Sales Manager Edison Storage Battery Co. Three hours of jollity and good fellowship followed the dinner. Stories were told by Mr. Edison, Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Moore and other, all of these being of a reminiscent character. Byron G. Harlan, Arthur Collins, Billy Murray and Steve Porter sang solos; Mr. Collins and Mr. Harlan sang duets and all sang quartettes. Mr. Porter gave some of his Flanagan recitations. Eugene Jaudas played violin solos. Mr. Frantzen played piano solos and accompanied the singers. The surprise of the evening was the singing of two parodies, in which Mr. Edison, Mr. Gilmore and various of their assistants were referred to in a manner that provoked much merriment. One of these was sung by the quartette to the tune of "Everybody Works but Father." This was the contribution of W. H. Miller. The other was sung by Mr. Collins and Mr. Harlan to the air of "Arrah Wanna," the words being "composed" by Messrs. Cronkhite and Hird. We print the words of both below, again apologizing for the personal equation: (Tune: "Everybody Works But [sic] Father.") A man who liked work came to our town, a wonder, you all know. His name is Thomas Edison, full of push and go. He hired a lot of farmers, see them all around; Ask him what he pays them for, and you'll never hear a sound. CHORUS. Nobody works but the old man, He's at it all night long, Tinkering with experiments Until the break of dawn. Gilmore just gives orders, Weber does the same, Nobody works but the old man, Ain't that an awful shame. There was a time when Edison would give no room to work, He'd only build a lot of shacks, no wonder we did shirk, But now it is quite the reverse, new buildings are his hobby. He's always, always at it, it's a wonder he ain't dead, With only five hours sleep at night, so it has been said, But if this sleep is not enough and of the proper kind, He takes more in the day-time, but we're all bind. He's working on a battery, perfect it soon will be, He's trying every kind of dope to get electricity, We'll put them in your autos and send Gilmore the bill; If they can't climb up the steepest grade, Just watch them go down hill. (Tune: "Arrah Wanna.") At the factory in West Orange, seated in his chair, You can find the chief "Heap Big Smoke" tearing out his hair. Each day comes little Westee with a segar [sic] fine, Cries the Boss in accents frenzied, "Can't you read that sing?" CHORUS. Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore, we are proud of you, You are tried and true, You will never fret and stew. In an office built of concrete strong, You could make your henchmen smile, If you'd only set us rules to let us smoke a little while. At his desk he ponders deeply, letters by the score, Mr. Gilmore, gen'ral manager, gee, but he gets sore, In comes Walter Stevens with an armful of old truck, Walter says, can you see me now, I can't go on, I'm stuck. CHORUS. Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore, up in the air you go, It his hard we know, Your job is a peach, oh, oh, In a year or two your golden locks All white will brightly shine, Then the 5:10 train boys, come in late boys, may work overtime. When you run a great big factory, you must have the dough, Mr. Gilmore, heap much big chief, knows that it is so, The Jobbers to the Waldorf came, from far and near did hike, F. K. Dolbeer said to them, you may go as far as you like. CHORUS. Mr. Gilmore, the Committee, did their work up fine, At the bar on time, Didn't wait to get a shine, They set the guests a lively pace, In booze there was a boom, Cocktails plenty, then said gently, charge it to the room. Wilson, Dolbeer, Weber, Pelzer, Walter Miller, too. Cronkhite, Hird and Len McChesney put it up to you; Shall we list the latest balled, "Pedro and the Monk?" Comes your answer, short and heated, "No! that thing is punk." CHORUS. Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore, we're surprised at you. We thought it would do. It should sell a few, and when you Found the sales reached fifty-two Said with a smile so bland, "It's the worst thing, but the rank thing sells to beat the band." Source: Edison Phonograph Monthly, March 1907, pages 3 & 4.