Riding in a “Machine,” But Watch Out for Pigs, 1916
Times change, and words change as well. When a new invention or technology is introduced, we loquacious humans invent changes or modify words to describe them. The changes can be abrupt or stretched out over time. Some will flourish and last for generations; some will last a decade or two, then slowly fade away. Such is life - or in this case, language.
The same process happened with one of our favorite toys, the automobile, or more commonly, the car. We all know what a car is, and how mind-bogglingly important they are to our modern society. Love them or hate them, they have created the mobile world in which we live. But they have not always been called “cars,” at least not universally. In the 1900s and 1910s, they were often called “machines.” Your great-grandfather might have bought a new “machine” at the local Ford dealer. His elder daughter might have invited her chums out for a spin in Daddy’s “machine.” Grandma never did like riding in a “machine;” she preferred her buggy.
At the same time as Westervillains were dealing with nomenclature, they were also adjusting to another newfangled idea, the car accident. Two Westerville fender-benders appeared in the news in July of 1916. Five “youths,” led by driver Delmar Andrus, were driving from Columbus to Westerville at one in the morning when their “machine” sheared off a telephone poll. The machine was badly damaged, but remarkably, no one was injured beyond some bruising. No word on whether the youths (all boys) faced parental sanctions.[1]
That same month, another accident took place with more serious results. A group of four automobilists were motoring from New Albany to Westerville, with a Mr. B. F. Ranney at the wheel. According to the news,
. . . a hog ran across the road directly in front of the machine, causing it to turn turtle. Mrs. Ranney was thrown about ten feet and rendered unconscious. . .[2]
Despite being airborne, Mrs. Ranney was well enough to be taken home by a New Albany physician. Another passenger, Charles Fitzmiller, was taken to a Columbus hospital in the doctor’s “machine.” No word on injuries to the hog.[3]
In the hundred and ten or so years since, we have become so blase about car accidents that they barely register in the news. A fatality is still newsworthy, but probably not on page 1. A century’s passage has done away with the slang “machine.’ Now omnipresent, the car is both a favorite and a danger, call it what you will. Just ask the pig.
- Alan Borer
Photo of a car on the street, 1916 - Source: Westerville History Museum Media Collection