There has been a line of concerned citizens, amateur historians, and folklorists who have tried in vain to keep the Rain Day memorabilia preserved for future generations – specifically the treasure trove of hats won through the years.
We have done a decent job of chronicling the oral and written history of the celebration. However, I’m talking about an actual display of the trophies accumulated through the years. Unfortunately, these artifacts have slipped through the community’s hands preventing us from creating a proper home in a museum or public site.
Most locals know the familiar story of Rain Day dating back to the latter part of the 19th century at J.T. Rogers’ High Street drug store. Druggist William Allison began observing that it frequently rained on July 29. His informal records of the weather on that date eventually became a town-wide curiosity. Over the years, the tradition has grown into the annual event we know today.
However, the hook that captured the imagination of the “outside world” was the hat bet. Originally, the town “watchers” would sit around a keg of beer and bet with each other on the outcome and times of the rain.
In the early 1920s, the record keeping was taken over by the new owner of the store, Byron Daily. Bryon was a jovial man and started wagering hats and shirts with traveling drug salesmen and eventually local businessmen from nearby towns.
In a fittingly poetic sidenote, Mr. Daily got the only hole-in-one of his life on Rain Day 1931 on the 5th hole at Greene County Country Club.
In 1938, John Daily took over the title of Rain Day Prophet after his father’s death. John was an attorney with the same droll sense of humor as his father. He eventually expanded the bets to Pittsburgh newspaper and radio personalities, which led to national outlets such as the Associated Press picking up the story.
After World War II, the celebrity bets really took off. The first really big name was former heavyweight champion Jack Dempsy in 1946. The hat was auctioned off and Ollie Fox of Fox Motors paid $50 for it with the proceeds going to the new community swimming pool.
The next five years were absolutely the halcyon days of hat bets. Some of the biggest names in the country took part in the wager: including Bing Crosby (1947), Charley McCarthy (1948), Arthur Godfrey (1949) and Bob Hope (1951).
If you are not old enough to remember these people, trust me, they were “A-list” celebrities at the time. Crosby’s signature chapeau was auctioned for an impressive $137, which also went to the swimming pool construction.
In 1954, Bill Corum, the president of Churchill Downs and a prominent sports journalist, bet a Kentucky Colonelship in addition to a hat. Corum played a significant role in the history of the Kentucky Derby and coined the term “Run for the Roses.”
The 1960s and 70s bets were usually with Pittsburgh media celebrities with a few notable exceptions such as the Three Stooges, Cassius Clay (Muhammad Ali), Arnold Palmer, and Johnny Carson. Golfer Tom Kite, and TV personalities Willard Scott and Harry Anderson highlighted the 1980s. (Gen Z’s and Millennials just Google them)
When John Daily’s memorabilia was auctioned off in the 80s, many of the hats he collected were scattered in an unfortunate diaspora. Among the items sold were the Three Stooges felt scarecrow hat, a harness racing jacket from Del Miller, Paul Long’s African safari hat, and Lou Brock’s “Brockabrella.”
That evening, the hats went anywhere from $25 to $200, and the proceeds benefited Hospice. The Behm family purchased the Three Stooges’ hat and donated it to the Historical Society. Unfortunately, it appears the years have claimed these artifacts, and they are probably in somebody’s attic or basement lost to posterity.
We can only hope today’s caretakers of the tradition are more vigilant about preservation.
