Looking Back: Chillicothe Sales Week was a boon for business
Almost 100 years ago to the day, beginning Wednesday, Oct. 4, and ending Saturday night, Oct. 7, the city was alive with shoppers searching for deals as it celebrated its first Chillicothe Sales Week.
During the four-day affair, shoppers packed the sidewalks on Main Street clutching packages of all sizes and shapes and threading their way through throngs of people. Small groups of women clustered around elaborate window displays designed to lure them inside.
The Penny Store displayed dishes in its window and promised that any set could be purchased at cost. Chandler’s Music Store guaranteed that any purchase of a Player Piano Roll at regular price got you a second one for a penny. Kerns Furniture store enticed people in with savings on locally built tables and chairs. Bargains could be found in nearly every store on both sides of the street.
It wasn’t just Main Street, though. Eager shoppers crowded the sidewalks on Paint Street as well, toting shopping bags and sniffing out deals.
Henn & Haynes offered 10 percent off on any piece of jewelry purchased in its store. Minces Underselling Store and The Chillicothe Bargain Shoe Store Company promised savings from 25 to 50 percent. Chillicothe Hardware Store tempted shoppers inside with marked down prices on everything from tools and blacksmith’s supplies to footballs and guns.
As bargain hunters streamed in and out of stores, live music echoed up and down Paint Street from a bandstand erected in front of City Hall. The band could be heard playing popular tunes every afternoon and evening during the event.
The biggest attraction by far, though, was one block further south on Paint Street, on the square between Fourth and Fifth Streets. Parked in neat, angled rows under a gigantic canvas tent and surrounded by crowds of onlookers was an array of shiny new 1923 cars.
The first year of the Chillicothe Sales Week celebration was in 1922, replacing the Farmers Fall Festival, which had been inaugurated in 1913.
The first three years of the Farmers’ Fall Festival were a big success and attracted some of the largest crowds in Chillicothe’s history. After America entered the World War in 1917 and thousands of soldiers descended on Camp Sherman, however, the festival was cancelled for the next few years. The city tried to recapture the magic in 1920 and 1921. It didn’t work.
As preparations for the 1922 Farmers Fall Festival began, a letter to the editor in the Gazette brought planning to a halt.
“Why not put the rollers under the Farmers’ Fall ‘Fizzle?” the anonymous writer asked. “Let Chillicothe get away from the ‘hick town’ stuff! Of course, it may do the merchants some good, but for God’s sake, have mercy on the poor patient public.” The letter hit a nerve.
Chillicothe’s storeowners, although not thrilled about the “hick town” comments, mostly agreed with the letter writer’s assessment. Richard Schachne, a merchant and member of the festival planning committee, summed up the sentiment.
“I have yet to find more than two or three in the retail business,” he admitted, “who are in favor of having the Fall Festival conducted along the lines of earlier years. It is not up-to-date and does not meet with the support of either the farmers or merchants, or the general public.”
Shortly after, the Chamber of Commerce arranged a meeting and invited the unsatisfied merchants to share their ideas about how to improve the festival. A group of men representing the Chillicothe Auto Dealers’ Association showed up in force, determined to put their stamp on the event.
There was no better way to prove that Chillicothe wasn’t the hick town the author of the letter thought it was, the automobile dealers argued, than showing off their latest models in an extravagant auto show right on Paint Street. Car ownership, after all, had come to define modern life.
By the end of the meeting, the merchants agreed to change the name of the event from the Farmers’ Fall Festival to Chillicothe Sales Week. The store owners enthusiastically agreed to decorate their shop windows and mark down merchandise, but the new auto show created a buzz in the city and breathed fresh life into the Fall celebration.
At the same time, Ross County Auditor Walter S. Barrett, head of the automobile association and owner of the local Buick dealership, assumed a noticeable leadership role of the event.
“It will be the best auto show ever,” he promised. “And as for the other features, our merchants are taking an interest in the matter that means that nothing will be left undone on their part.”
Imagine the scene on the morning of the first day of the celebration. Merchants put the finishing touches on their special window displays, men pounded their hammers outside City Hall, erecting a bandstand, and a gigantic tent stood tall over South Paint Street.
That tent was soon filled with shiny new Buicks, Chevrolets and Fords but not until the machines paraded through the city.
“The long string of handsome machines,” the Gazette reported, “made a fine appearance and attracted much favorable comment.”
After the line of cars reached the big tent, drivers parked in their assigned spots, and Chillicothians oohed and awed for four days. The auto show was a hit.
The magic was back. All thanks to an anonymous letter to the editor 100 years ago.
This article originally appeared on Chillicothe Gazette: Looking Back: Chillicothe Sales Week was a boon for business
