Eye Witness

the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. But what about Jean Boone. The name might not ring a bell, but Boone was the sheriff's deputy who found Oswald's rifle in the book depository. And then there's Fred Capps. He wasn't witnessed to a presidential tragedy, just missed opportunity. Capps was fairly well known among professional magicians, but very few people today remember his appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show in

nineteen sixty four. Why because he had the unfortunate luck of following up America's first glimpse of a brand new rock band from England, the Beatles. Samuel also seemed like just another bystander. However, he had one heck of a story to tell. He was born in eastern Maryland and grew up in a farm there before moving to Arlington, Virginia with his wife Mary, where they raised their family. Eventually, though,

Samuel moved back to his home state of Maryland. The most incredible thing he ever saw occurred when he was just five years old. His father worked for the Goldsborough's, a rich family in Talbot County, Maryland. One night, Mr Seymour and Mr Goldsboro had traveled to Washington, d C. On business, and young Samuel was allowed to tag along. While the boy's father and Mr Goldsboro were attending to their business, Mrs Goldsboro and Samuel it would attend to play.

They knew it would be an event to remember too, because they were let in on a not so secret bit of information. A very special guest would be in the audience that night. Years later, the year old Samuel was invited to appear on a popular television game show, and he almost didn't make it. Shortly after arriving in New York, he fell and hurt his right eye. He visited a local doctor who cleared him for his TV appearance, although the producers urged him to postpone until he was

fully healed. Samuel, though refused he was too old and he might not get another chance. He wanted to tell his story, so he sat next to the host who introduced him to the audience as well as the panel of celebrity guests. But the host didn't tell anyone why Samuel was there. You see, that was up to them to figure out. The show was called I've Got a Secret, and the goal was for the panelist to ask a series of yes or no questions until they could figure

out the guests hidden identity. Radio and TV star Bill Cullen kicked things by trying to assess Samuel's age. After a while, he deduced that whatever the secret was, it had to do with the American Civil War. One by one, each panelist asked their questions, drilling down to the truth

about Samuel Seymour. They eventually discovered that when he was just five years old, Samuel did more than just to tend a show in Washington, d C. The show Mrs Goldsborough had taken Samuel two was called Our American Cousin. They sat in the balcony directly across from the special guest of the evening, President Abraham Lincoln. Samuel remembered him being tall and serious in his demeanor, although he smiled and waved the crowd before the show. While watching the play,

a shot rang out. A woman screamed, and Samuel looked up to see the President fall forward. Another man, who he had later learned was John Wilkes Booth, leapt onto the stage and broke his leg. Samuel, unsure about what had just happened, felt bad for the man with the injured leg. He begged Mrs Goldsboro to go down and help him, but shouting from the crowd drowned out his cries.

Lincoln's shot, they said. The President's dead Booth slipped away in the commotion and wouldn't be found for another twelve days. Samuel Seymour you See, was born in eighteen sixty and during his appearance on that game show in nineteen fifty six, he revealed himself to the world as the last surviving witness to the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. Curious you better believe it. Oftentimes, when lawmakers try to make a change,

they're met with resistance. Nobody likes to be told what to do, especially by folks who think they know better. Movements have been started and systems have been ended simply because someone stood up and said no. Others, however, aren't so brazen. They rebel more quietly from deep underground, or sometimes from the top of bar stool. In eight nine six, lawmakers in New York State passed to law that affected

both the regular public and business owners alike. New York City had become known as a den of sin, where men and women would drink all night and day. Public drunkenness had become a serious problem to the more conservative legislators up state. It didn't help that the city's mayor and other governing bodies weren't enforcing the strict Sabbath laws. Sunday, you see, was meant for the Holy Spirit, not other kinds of spirits. Meanwhile, an up and coming political powerhouse

was making a name for himself in the city. His name was Theodore Roosevelt, and he threw his support behind a brand new law, the Reigns Law, which would make it impossible for most of the eight thousand bars and dives in the five boroughs to be able to stay in business. Among other things, the Reigns law made the cost of an annual liquor license prohibitively expensive, seedier saloons that catered to crimine knolls and ne'er do wells couldn't

afford to stay open. The law also eliminated the free lunch, a common perk when drinking at Many bars offering complimentary boiled eggs or soda bread kept drinkers fed, which meant they kept ordering drinks as long as they had money. But the law eventually passed, and it worked exactly as they had planned. Bars locked their doors at midnight on Saturday's. Places that did remain open on Sundays had to keep their curtains open so passing beat cops could see inside

to make sure no one was serving liquor. But there was a loophole, one so big the city's elite could drive a train through it if they wanted to. Any hotel or establishment with ten or more rooms could serve alcohol on Sundays as long as lunch was provided well. It didn't take long for the loophole to widen enough for everyone, regardless of social status, to walk on through.

Dive bars Suddenly became private clubs with memberships. Rooms barely big enough to fit a bed were built into add a and basements, and a new sandwich was born, the rains sandwich. It was more substantial than the usual bar fare of peanuts and pretzels, and the authorities didn't mind it. Neither the comps nor the courts fought these new hotels or lodging houses for exploiting the law to their benefit, and as they sprouted up all over the city, the

rain sandwich craze spread with it. Now, the thing about the sandwich was that its ingredients always changed depending on who was making it. Sometimes it would be made with cold cuts that were so old they had shriveled into dried jerky, or cheese covered in spots of green mold. The bread was often too stale and crusty to stay together. At the Waldorf Astoria hotel, where New York society came to schmooze and booze, the sandwich was made with old

meat patties. A few bars even made the rain sandwich using nothing more than a brick and two slices of bread, and as one person finished their drink, the so called sandwich would be whisked off to another table with a fresh glass. The point of the sandwich wasn't to eat it, It was so patrons could order a meal to drink according to the law. Unfortunately, the good times didn't last forever. The man who had written the law, Senator John W. Raines,

realized that he had to close the loophole. The following year, amendments were made that made it almost impossible for the poor and middle class to get a drink on Sundays, and so once again it became a luxury meant only for the rich, and the cops and lawmakers backed off.

Part of the deal centered around the price of the rain sandwich, which skyrocketed by fifty to the era of poor men and women spending their days on a bar stool shooting the breeze had faded into the past, and as most New Yorkers came to realize, there was no free lunch either. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast

dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works, I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show and you can learn all about it over at the world of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious. Yeah,