Maybe the only way to overcome a shameful or humiliating situation is to share it widely, in the hope someone else can relate to it.
In August 1913, the Tribune put out a call asking people to share their sometimes laughable, but never forgettable “The Most Embarrassing Moment of My Life Was When —.”
The response was fast — and in force. “Letters have arrived in bunches and they make good reading. Every one is worthy of publication, but space forbids the use of more than the few herewith printed,” the Tribune’s unidentified “Sunday editor” wrote in the Sept. 7, 1913, edition of the newspaper.
At first, the Tribune published these accounts as weekly features. As their popularity grew, however, the embarrassing moments became a daily treat alongside similar columns compiled from readers’ submissions — bright sayings from small children; a swap meet for discarded goods; and a column for women to share the ways they make money “without interfering with their domestic duties.”
A quick review of the embarrassments shows common themes — slips and falls; mistakes made in front of an audience; and dealings with unpredictable animals and automobiles. By today’s standards, however, most are only mildly humorous.
One thing that never changed in the 17 consecutive years the column was included in the Tribune was its award — $1. In today’s dollars, that was about $29 in 1913, and only $17 by 1930. The paper stopped offering an award in 1931, and continued to sporadically run the uncomfortable moments until 1935.
Tribune TV and film critic Nina Metz unknowingly revived this idea when she began sharing weekly “My Worst Moment” memories from celebrities — actors, singers, comedians, directors and more — in 2017. Famous people — they’re awkward just like us, right?
Here’s a look back at a selection of Tribune readers’ embarrassing moments:
An unexpected acceptance
My pet embarrassment was when I learned that the girl I went around with a little, but did not love was engaged. To give her the impression that I was wasting her time I went over and proposed. My embarrassment can be easily imagined when she accepted me.
— J.A.M. (Sept. 28, 1913)
A slippery slip of a kiss
After being married by a justice of the peace my husband and I went to a hotel to live temporarily. We had just entered our room, when I remembered that I had forgotten to make a certain purchase, so, telling my husband I would be back soon, I started to go out. When I was leaving he said he would wash up a little and shave before I came back.
My purchase made, I returned to the hotel, and rushed into our room, as I thought. Sure enough there was hubby with his face all lather, ready to shave, his back toward the door as I came in. Rushing forward, I pulled down his face and kissed it (what is lather when you are just newly wed?). Next moment I screamed and rushed out of the room. Why? It was not my husband! Embarrassed? Rather.
— G.M. (Oct. 12, 1913)
Next to godliness anyhow
I was all dressed for my wedding, ready to step into the carriage to be taken to the church. One of the party who was to remain at home to greet us upon our return reminded me that I had forgotten my prayer book. I remembered I had placed it among a collection of various articles on the table in my boudoir. I wanted to say one more goodby to the room in which I had spent such a happy, care free girlhood, so insisted that I myself return for it. I hurried to my room, quickly snatched up the prayer book, as I supposed, and rushed back to the carriage.
We were inside the church in a few moments, and I was marching intently down the aisle to the strains of “Lohengrin.” Then I discovered that instead of my prayer book in my hand I was tightly clasping a fresh cake of soap.
— K.Z.B. (Nov. 16, 1913)
New way to descend stairs
My most embarrassing moment was the first time I used the moving stairway in a department store. As I was trying to get on my feet slipped out from under me and I sat down flat. I could not get up and was forced to go all the way down in that undignified position. That was bad enough, but it was worse to find myself flat on the floor when I got to the bottom.
— Mrs. C.W.C. (Feb. 22, 1914)
Surprised the dancers
I was at a masquerade ball and on account of the large crowd a number of us were standing on the seats in order to see the prizes given out. The seats were folding ones like those in a theater, and as I was standing too near the back of it, the seat flew up, my foot went down, and I couldn’t get it out. Six young men rushed to my rescue and with great difficulty pulled me out while the crowd roared and I blushed furiously.
— B.G. (April 5, 2014)
A solo and recitative
Some years ago I gave a cornet solo at a religious meeting held at the home of a minister whose flock was of the long faced, never smiling variety. As I took my position to play, I noticed that I stood beside the cage of a wicked looking parrot.
I blew the first note and was startled by hearing a disgusted “Shut up!” from the parrot. It was with difficulty that I kept on playing, but when a second and more disgusted “Shut up!” came, I broke down completely and laughed, actually laughed, while not a smile showed on a single face in the congregation. Greatly embarrassed I took up the solo once more.
The parrot started in again, and its mistress covered the cage with a cloth, whereupon the parrot yelled with a world of gratitude in its voice. “Thank goodness!”
The result of this was a loud blast on the cornet caused by a spasmodic laugh into it. The startled congregation looked at me pityingly, and, embarrassed and disgraced, I went to my seat.
— B.A.F. (May 10, 1914)
Amused the crowd
I had never passed through a turnstile, when my sister paid my fare in a south side elevated station one night at the rush hour. She passed through and pushed the contrivance around once and a half ways, so that one of the spokes pointed at me. I pushed the stile around so I could fit in one of the right angled spaces, and by so doing I registered my fare. I hadn’t a cent of money. The cashier suggested my climbing over. But how could I with a tight skirt? I got down on my hands and knees and crawled under, and the hearty laughs of the spectators greatly embarrassed me.
— F.F.J. (Aug. 30, 1914)
And he’s bald now
In the boarding house that I patronized a good many years ago was a man whose head was as barren of hair as a billiard ball. We made a great deal of sport of him, unknown to him, of course. One day as I passed behind him on my way from the dining room I picked up a bottle of catsup from the next table, and, presuming that it was corked, shook it over the head of the bald man in imitation of a barber applying a hair tonic. A stream of catsup flew from the bottle and covered the man’s head. I was too embarrassed to even attempt an explanation. I am now as bald as that man was, and I presume that is my punishment.
— A.S.K. (Sept. 20, 1914)
Too much makeup
In my first year at college the literary club gave a play. In the first act I was a courtier in black silk short clothes, a mustache and a very much be-powdered wig. In the second act I took the part of a lady in waiting, a very dignified and, in this instance, a very dramatic part.
As all the changing I had to do was to slip my court dress on over my short clothes, change wigs, and leave off my mustache, I had a little time for my friends in between these two acts. These friends stayed for quite a time, consequently I was somewhat hurried in my changing.
When I heard my cue I hastily changed wigs, rushed onto the stage, and started my most dramatic speech. When I turned to give full emphasis to the most important part I heard a shout of merriment from the audience and saw a look of consternation on the faces of my fellow actors.
I could not imagine the cause of it all. Then, putting my hand up to my face in a confused way I had, I found that I had left my mustache on.
— H.P. (Nov. 15, 1914)
Kept them under his hat
When employed by a loop firm some years ago, my employer was the recipient of four boxes of cigars from a customer to liquidate his debt. Not being a smoker he divided them among the office clerks, each of us receiving from twenty to twenty-five cigars.
Not having sufficient room for them in my vest pockets, I put the balance in my hat before leaving the office.
Being unconscious of their presence there, and meeting two lady acquaintances, I tipped my hat. As this happened on a crowded street, you can imagine my embarrassment on seeing my cigars fall about the sidewalk.
— J.O.L. (Nov. 22, 1914)
Horse ate hat
It was when a horse pulled a green “stickup” off my hat while I was waiting for a street car on a busy corner.
— A.H. (Jan. 23, 1916)
Just then it squawked
I visited some friends at La Grange and while there I purchased a large chicken and thought I would take it home alive. I tied its feet together and wrapped a white woolen shawl around it, allowing its head near the top so it could get air.
Everything went well from La Grange to the loop. But when I got on my (train) car I found it well filled up. I had been standing a few minutes holding my chicken like a baby, when a gentleman saw me, and rising, quickly offered me his seat.
I thanked him, and sat down, and just as I did the chicken poked out its head and let out a loud squawk, much to the amusement of the crowd in the car.
— E.M.R. (March 19, 1916)
Cackled and laid egg
I was going out to Maywood one day on a West Madison street car when along the line somewhere an Italian woman got on carrying a chicken with its legs tied.
She sat next to me, putting the chicken under the seat between us. The car was one of the old type with long seats facing each other and comfortably filled.
As I was about to leave there was a great flutter of wings at my feet and on looking down on the bottom of my gown was a new laid egg. The woman’s face had a broad smile as she picked up the egg and chicken and she said: “Good—a chick.” The car was simply in an uproar as I stalked out.
— Miss G.L.K. (May 7, 1916)
Bringing home a chicken
Mother sent me to buy a live chicken at a butcher’s three miles away, as there was a sale. Returning on the (train) car I was about a block from home, when a woman beside me gave a yell, for there was my chicken standing in her lap. I had not seen it, as I was looking out of the window. Needless to say I could not get out of the car soon enough.
— B. (Oct. 12, 1919)
Poor John, Poor John
My name is John Skelton. I am not much of a praying man, at least not in public. Recently I had business in Chicago, and, being in the city on Sunday morning, I went to one of the big churches. Just as the usher had seated me the minister said: “We will (now) be led in prayer by John Skelton.” Embarrassed? I was stunned! Just as the cold sweat began to break out all over me, some one in front began to pray. My life was saved! There was another John Skelton.
— Put. (Dec. 10, 1916)
Safest way out
One evening after dinner I went out to our little garage to back out our new car and the kids followed me. I started the engine, but instead of backing out as I intended I became confused by the thought that I might run over one of them and butted out the end of the garage. Our neighbors heard the crash and came running over to learn if anybody was hurt. It certainly was my most embarrassing moment when I told them how it all happened.
— J.G. (Nov. 3, 1918)
Waiting for a buyer
I was leaving the city and having a sale of my household goods with all my bric-a-brac conspicuously displayed on a shelf waiting for a buyer. An intimate friend happened in to say goodby and as we were talking I noticed she kept looking at a pair of vases. I laughed and said, “I’ll see you those antiques cheap.” When she coldly replied that she recognized them as her wedding gift to me, it was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
— S.M. (Nov. 17, 1918)
Being a good Samaritan
I was walking along the railroad with my husband one afternoon, when we came upon a fish flopping breathlessly on the bridge. Thinking that it had leaped upon the bridge, and wanting to do the Good Samaritan act, I picked the fish up and tossed it back into the water. I had no sooner done so than a head was thrust up from under the bridge, a fishing pole bobbed around, and a gruff voice shouted at me: “What the deuce did you throw my fish away for?” My husband kept me from jumping into the lake after the fish.
— V.M. (June 22, 1919)
The last of the lilies
One day at a circus I had on a hat the crown of which was covered with lilies and green leaves. I was standing in front of the lions’ cage when I felt something pulling at the top of my hat and every one was laughing. When I looked up to see what was wrong the giraffe in the next cage was just swallowing the last of the lilies of my hat.
— M.F. (July 27, 1919)
Solemn as could be
When quite young I was called to testify in a lawsuit. I never had been in a courtroom before.
When I was called to the witness stand to give my testimony the officer whose duty it was to administer the oath began: “Raise your right hand.” Then, “Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”
I raised my right hand and repeated it after him as solemnly as could be: “Raise your right hand, do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”
The jurors wiggled in their seats, the court acted as though they were witnessing the movies, and the judge pounded his desk with the gavel.
If it hadn’t have been for the cold look that our lawyer gave me I might be wondering what they were laughing at yet.
— D.F.G. (Aug. 7, 1921)
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