2008 Woodie Awards
Before candy and flowers: the gruesome history of Valentine's Day
by C.J. Kershner
Issue date: 2/10/04 Section: Features
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Before you sit down with your sweetie and give him/her the Hallmark card, flowers, chocolates and/or those idiotic "I Luv You" bears that Wal-Mart sells, I want you to stop and think about what you're doing. Participating in the second largest card-giving day before next Christmas? Lining the pockets of the executives at Godiva? Making up for all those nights you got drunk and called him a pig or her fat? People, we've completely forgotten what Valentine's Day is about.
That's right: killing people.
Valentine's Day has a long and joyous history of bloodshed and carnage. There's a reason that everyone associates it with the heart and the color red. Passion and the giving of your love to the one you cherish? No. If pierced correctly, the muscles in the heart will cause blood to shoot upwards of thirty feet out of a person's body, and ask anyone in the Mafia, red is one of the hardest colors to get out of carpeting.
So where does this tale of maiming begin? Well, it all dates back to the story of a young Roman named Valentine. Details are fuzzy, but it's been said that Valentine was a third century Christian under the rule of Emperor Claudius II, and Claudius wasn't exactly a big fan of this Christ character (or any other characters really, I mean, the man's nickname was "Claudius the Cruel"). Whatever the case, Valentine was thrown in jail for refusing to give up Christianity in favor of the Roman pantheon of gods who, actually, were in the middle of having a wild party in honor of Juno or Lupercalia, or something like that (the Roman's liked to party hardy).
While in jail, Valentine fell in love with the jailer's daughter, and on February 14, A.D. 269, the day he was to be executed, he wrote her a love letter and signed it, "From Your Valentine." It was very sweet and touching, and then he got thrown to the lions!
Love hurts, huh?
But the love doesn't end there. Let's skip ahead to Chicago, 1929. The economy is still good, there's no Depression in sight, and bootlegging is in full swing (silly silly Prohibition). On the morning of February 14, seven men in the employment of George "Bugs" Moran waited in a warehouse at 2122 North Clark St. for a hijacked shipment of Canadian whiskey. (See? Canada is good for something.) Moran was going to meet them there, but plans went awry and a police car showed up. Five men exited the cop car - three in uniform, two in plain clothes - and went into the warehouse.
Less than two minutes after entering the building, a cacophony of machinegun fire cracked the silence of the snowy morning. The five men emerged and drove away. When neighbors and authorities went in to investigate they found gangland's most famous massacre. The seven men had been lined up against a brick wall and riddled with .45 caliber rounds. They were all, with the exception of one of the gangster's dogs, very, very, and we're talking on a scale of one to doornail here, dead.
So, for those of you who have someone to cuddle with this Valentine's Day, enjoy it. Tell this special someone that you love him or her, give candy and flowers, and if you have to, those ridiculous stuffed animals. But, for those of you who are going solo this Valentine's Day, don't get yourself all depressed about it because it could be a lot worse. You could be dead.
That's right: killing people.
Valentine's Day has a long and joyous history of bloodshed and carnage. There's a reason that everyone associates it with the heart and the color red. Passion and the giving of your love to the one you cherish? No. If pierced correctly, the muscles in the heart will cause blood to shoot upwards of thirty feet out of a person's body, and ask anyone in the Mafia, red is one of the hardest colors to get out of carpeting.
So where does this tale of maiming begin? Well, it all dates back to the story of a young Roman named Valentine. Details are fuzzy, but it's been said that Valentine was a third century Christian under the rule of Emperor Claudius II, and Claudius wasn't exactly a big fan of this Christ character (or any other characters really, I mean, the man's nickname was "Claudius the Cruel"). Whatever the case, Valentine was thrown in jail for refusing to give up Christianity in favor of the Roman pantheon of gods who, actually, were in the middle of having a wild party in honor of Juno or Lupercalia, or something like that (the Roman's liked to party hardy).
While in jail, Valentine fell in love with the jailer's daughter, and on February 14, A.D. 269, the day he was to be executed, he wrote her a love letter and signed it, "From Your Valentine." It was very sweet and touching, and then he got thrown to the lions!
Love hurts, huh?
But the love doesn't end there. Let's skip ahead to Chicago, 1929. The economy is still good, there's no Depression in sight, and bootlegging is in full swing (silly silly Prohibition). On the morning of February 14, seven men in the employment of George "Bugs" Moran waited in a warehouse at 2122 North Clark St. for a hijacked shipment of Canadian whiskey. (See? Canada is good for something.) Moran was going to meet them there, but plans went awry and a police car showed up. Five men exited the cop car - three in uniform, two in plain clothes - and went into the warehouse.
Less than two minutes after entering the building, a cacophony of machinegun fire cracked the silence of the snowy morning. The five men emerged and drove away. When neighbors and authorities went in to investigate they found gangland's most famous massacre. The seven men had been lined up against a brick wall and riddled with .45 caliber rounds. They were all, with the exception of one of the gangster's dogs, very, very, and we're talking on a scale of one to doornail here, dead.
So, for those of you who have someone to cuddle with this Valentine's Day, enjoy it. Tell this special someone that you love him or her, give candy and flowers, and if you have to, those ridiculous stuffed animals. But, for those of you who are going solo this Valentine's Day, don't get yourself all depressed about it because it could be a lot worse. You could be dead.