The Museum of Hoaxes
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April Fool's Day Archive, Contents:
Before 1900: Origin of April Fool's Day | 1700-1799 | 1800-1899
Early 1900s: 1900 | 1901 | 1915 | 1919 | 1920 | 1923 | 1925
1930s & 40s: 1933 | 1934 | 1936 | 1937 | 1938 | 1940 | 1949
1950s & 60s: 1950 | 1957 | 1959 | 1960 | 1962 | 1965 | 1969
1970s: 1970 | 1971 | 1972 | 1973 | 1974 | 1975 | 1976 | 1977 | 1978 | 1979
1980s: 1980 | 1981 | 1982 | 1983 | 1984 | 1985 | 1986 | 1987 | 1988 | 1989
1990s: 1990 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1994 | 1995 | 1996 | 1997 | 1998 | 1999
2000s: 2000 | 2001 | 2002 | 2003 | 2004 | 2005 | 2006 | 2007 | 2008 | 2009
2010s: 2010 | 2011
category
American April Fool's Day Hoaxes
"The Flume, N.H.—Local boy builds boat, finds it too big, sandpapers it down to fit." [Life, Mar 22, 1937.]
The San Antonio Light revealed that a plot to move the Alamo from San Antonio to Dallas had been foiled at the last minute:
Dallas Foiled In Plot To Remove Alamo
Vigilance of patriotic San Antonians Wednesday was all that saved the historic Alamo for this city. Since Dallas was awarded main Centennial celebration, its citizens have been casting envious eyes on the shrine of Texas liberty. Early rising San Antonians today were astounded to find the Alamo had been loaded on trucks, preparatory to being taken bodily to Dallas for exhibition at the Centennial. Irate citizens and hastily summoned police halted the outrage and restored Alamo to its proper place.
The Philadelphia Record ran a picture titled, "Deep Sea Monster Visits Philadelphia." Although modern viewers have little difficulty in spotting the picture as a fake, it fooled many of the Record's readers.
The Honolulu Star-Bulletin ran a story about the discovery of a Viking ship in Hawaii, accompanied by a picture of the ship. The story played on the popular belief that early Viking explorers landed in America and traveled as far west as Minnesota. However, it is doubtful they ever went as far as Hawaii.
The Madison Capital-Times ran a picture on its front page showing the dome of the Wisconsin State Capitol collapsing. A headline announced, "Dome Topples Off Statehouse," while the subhead read, "Officials Say Legislature Generated Too Much Hot Air."

The accompanying article reported that "Wisconsin's beautiful $8 million capitol was in ruins today, following a series of mysterious explosions which blasted the majestic dome from its base." The explosions were said to have begun at 7:30 AM, followed by smaller blasts that "sent showers of granite chips down upon the heads of pedestrians." Three large blasts finally finished off the dome, though luckily no one was seriously hurt. The article added, "Authorities were considering the possibility that large quantities of gas, generated through many weeks of verbose debate in the Senate and Assembly chambers, had in some way been ignited, causing the first blast." Hot air that had found its way into other rooms caused the following blasts.

Despite the fact that the story concluded with the words "April Fool," many readers were upset. One reader wrote to the editor, "I was filled with indignation over your April Fool joke on the front page of the Capital-Times of April 1. There is such a thing as carrying a joke too far and this one was not only tactless and void of humor, but also a hideous jest."

The photo and story were the work of photographer-reporter Cedric Parker. In 1985 The Science Digest named this one of the world's best hoaxes.
In an effort to sidestep the flood of calls asking for Mr. Fish, the New York aquarium asked the telephone company to disconnect their service for the day. [Oakland Tribune, Apr 1, 1925.]
Undertakers in Reno, Nevada reported that they received calls all day from people asking, "Someone there want me?" The undertakers soon began responding, "If you're a dead one, yes." [Reno Evening Gazette, Apr 1, 1925.]
Over thirty members of Washington's social elite received invitations to attend a dinner at a Washington social club, to be hosted by Dr. Pavel Stransky, secretary of the Czechoslovak legation. Those who were invited included diplomats, debutantes, White House aides, and army and naval officers. Invitations were extended by telephone by a woman speaking with a French accent. She told them that the dinner was to be given by Dr. Stransky at 8 o'clock. "You weel come," one invitee remembered her saying, "or Dr. Stransky weel be ver-ry disappoint. At eight. Au revoir, Monsieur!" Every one accepted. However many, noting the date, decided not to attend. Those who did show up discovered there was no host. Nor had any reservations been made. Dr. Stransky later protested that he was the main victim of the prank since he had organized no such event. He told the press, "I sent no invitations. I am astonished. People call me and say: 'You are giving a dinner.' Today is the 1st of April and I think it is all a joke. But why should they pick on me?" [The Washington Post, Apr 2, 1925.]
Sell! (1925)
Pranksters attempted to deceive some of the larger brokerage offices on Wall Street. Several of the larger houses received telephone messages instructing them to sell large quantities of stock "at the market." Doing so could have caused a collapse in stock prices. However, the brokers, who were familiar with the actual voices of their customers, realized they were being deceived and did not carry out any of the sell orders. [The New York Times, Apr 2, 1925.]
The desk sergeant at the San Francisco police station received a frantic phone call. "For God's sake rush the wagon to 1448 Bush Street." A dozen officers were sent to the address. The local paper reported, "They found 1448 Bush Street. It is a branch police station." [Modesto Evening News, Apr 1, 1920.]
In Milwaukee, Wisconsin the city morgue received over 150 calls within an hour and a half from people asking to speak to Mr. Graves or Mr. Stiff. Consequently "the morgue failed for an hour and 45 minutes to inform the coroner of the death of a patient and asking that the body be removed." The coroner appealed to the public to stop making such calls on April 1st. [Sheboygan Press, Apr 1, 1920.]
Seventeen-year-old William Needham was found hiding in the closet of Brooklyn resident Matthew Cohen. Needham had $1200 in Liberty bonds and two diamond rings belonging to Mr. Cohen in his pockets. When confronted, Needham pleaded, "Don't get mad. It's only an April fool joke; have a cigarette." Cohen had Needham arrested. [New York Times, Apr 3, 1920.]
Categories: Crime, United States, 1920.
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