Census Humor: Behind the Statistics

In a previous blog post, we looked at what it took to be a US census taker. In today’s blog we’re going to have a little fun with the census by looking at some actual enumerator experiences, plus some humorous information that some of them were asked to record. Most examples were found using one of Grapevine Library’s subscription databases, Newspapers.com.

1840

In 1840 New Orleans, one census taker had a hard time finding any women who would admit to being over 30. One wonders if this clipping from the June 20, 1840 issue of the Baton Rouge Gazette had anything to do with it:

1870

In Chicago, one census taker encountered a vicious dog that broke its rope and would have “pinned him by the throat to the floor had he not beat a swift retreat from this den of wild beasts.” This was likely not humorous to the census taker at the time

1880

In Wisconsin, a census taker ran for his life when an irate citizen sicced his bulldog on him.

One of the questions in 1880 was whether anyone “mentally deficient” lived in the home. Female census taker did not ask this particular question and resident accused her of not asking all questions. She said, “I haven’t asked you whether you were an idiot, because that is unnecessary.”

In Columbus, OH, a woman that insisted she was 32 years old, even though her eldest daughter was 26 and she had been married for 27 years.

Someone at the North Carolina Chatham Record of July 22, 1880 decided to have some fun with two local families. In the first, there was a family named Meal, with a mother, father, and three children. The paper suggested that in the final report they be listed as two square meals and three lunches. In another instance they suggested that one child’s name was given prematurely. The oldest was James, 14; Donequit was 11, and Robert was 7.

1890

In 1890 New York City, census taker Louis Marks went into a saloon to enumerate the owner, who lived on site. As he started asking questions, someone hurled a beer glass at him, but he ducked in time and thought it best to make a fast retreat. The owner’s wife launched a second glass at him before he reached the door. Mr. Marks returned later with a police officer, who convinced the owner he needed to cooperate with the census taker.

On September 25, 1890, the Inter Ocean Post reprinted a heartfelt newsbyte from The New York Sun about the importance of accurate census counts: “Lost, Strayed, or Stolen—On or about the 1^st of June, 100,000 residents of New York City. The Police department is respectfully requested to keep its eyes open and restore, if possible, these missing, men, women, and children to their sorrowing friends.”

In Sacramento, one interview went thus: “What is your husband’s trade or profession, madam?” “Oh, he’s an idler.” “What does he do for a living?” “He drinks whiskey.” “Months unemployed during the past year?” “Twelve months, sir.” “What do you do for a living?” “Take in washing to buy him his whiskey.”

One Sacramento child told the census taker that her mother had just laid down for a nap, and asked if he could return later. He said, “Yes, miss, in June, 1900.”

A father of two in Pennsylvania was asked the names of his children, to which he replied, “Blamed if I know what their right names are. Their mother had them christened and I never asked her.”

From a letter written to the Census Bureau in 1890, from the The Philadelphia Inquirer, October 5, 1890:

1900

In Akron, OH, a census taker sought police assistance in getting the name and age of a woman who said she could carve out his heart.

A woman in Chicago was asked how many were in her family. “Four—my husband, myself, the cat and the canary.” “We can leave out the cat and the canary,” the census taker said. “That’s strange,” she remarked. “You haven’t left out anything else.”

1910

A Chicago respondent was asked if he was divorced. He said, “Not yet, but very soon.”

An Indiana resident was asked if he could read. “Yes, except the sort of stuff [a contemporary writer] writes.”

A New Yorker’s answer to the question about his profession: “Professional crook.”

A New York woman admitted to being divorced but insisted on being listed as a widow because it sounded more stylish.

A woman in New York agreed to be listed as divorced only if the phrase “with alimony” was inserted because “I am not going to spoil my chances of getting married again.”

A man in New York, when asked if he fought in the Civil War, said, “No, I have never been married.”

A New York woman would admit to being divorced only if census taker wrote that she was granted the divorce, not her husband.

When a New York man in a breadline was asked where he lived, he said, “In whatver park the cops aren’t.”

In Omaha, NE a woman refused to answer marital status question because she was a recent arrival posing as a divorcée with a large alimony so she could get credit on a large scale from local merchants.

A woman in St. Louis refused to answer because she was divorced a year ago, but she and her ex were thinking of remarrying and didn’t like the sound of “divorcée.”

A Toledo woman said if census taker didn’t indicate that she got custody of the kids and that her ex-husband was “a brute,” she would see to it that he “lost his job.”

1930

1930 in St. Louis. A 40-year-old bachelor proposed to his “peppy” female enumerator, who pointed to her husband in the background. Much to his dismay, he “went down in the 1930 Census as single.”

The Bridgeton Evening News in New Jersey noted one census taker who couldn’t seem to handle the question on relationship:

1990

One man answering the question on commuting said his wife traveled by broom.

Last, but by no means least, the Gentry, Benton Co., Arkansas Journal-Advance of April 25, 1940 has the best census humor idea yet:

Of corse.