“It was hard to realize how many fat men make Coney Island a home until last night brought them out.”
Unfortunately for the men of comical bulk who attended a dance given by the Fat Men’s Association of Coney Island in 1890, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle sent a complete wiseass to cover the social event. An excerpt from the August 1 issue of that year:
“Buschman’s Dancing Pavilion at West Brighton bulged out at the sides and the island shook as if suffering from the chill of an earthquake, for the Fat Men’s Association of Coney Island held their annual ball last night, and when large fractions of 25,000 pounds waft themselves over a ball room floor to gentle cadence something has got to give a little bit. It was hard to realize how many fat men make Coney Island a home until last night brought them out. A fundamental rule of the Fat Men’s Association is that no member shall weigh less than 200 pounds and those who weigh 199 gnash their teeth and sit outside the gate. The scales from the coal yard were shifted up for the purpose of proving who was entitled to the pigs which were awarded as prizes to the heavy weights, and it was a wise precaution.
“Seven pigs, twelve ducks and other minor prizes were awarded for proficiency in waltzing, roller skating and weighing.”
When the guests were assembled Ward McAllister Taggart, in the only dress suit on the Island, stood at the entrance and aired his 230 pounds with evident pride. President William Rockwell, the Adonis of the Bowery, smiled disdainfully as he passed in carrying 249 pounds. Treasurer Henry Popper, who is too fat to run away with the money, puts on airs with 284 pounds to his credit. When Special Officer McGinnis wandered around there was a perceptible widening in the cracks along the walls, for McGinnis tips the scales at 399.
A litter of handsome pigs was waiting to be awarded to the men according to their weight, and the contestants took mental notes of their opponents with varying degrees of satisfaction, until Andy Cullen, of Jersey City, came along and made the heaviest of those already there look like consumptives in the last stages of decline.
The only trouble that occurred during the evening was when Special Officer Billy Smith endeavored to steal a pig. The reception committee sat on him one at a time and they gathered up his remains for the inquest. Seven pigs, twelve ducks and other minor prizes were awarded for proficiency in waltzing, roller skating and weighing. The floor groaned under the weight, and it was a satisfaction to know that there was no cellar under it.”