| Original caption: “This general view of Times Square, New York, was made at 1100 Hours on May 7, 1945, and shows New Yorkers jamming the streets to cheer the news of the unconditional surrender of Germany.” The Times strived to provide comprehensive reporting, not just of the local celebrations, but of world events. Associated Press Correspondent Edward L. Kennedy (June 26, 1905 – November 29, 1963) broke the news of the surrender prematurely, violating a 36-hour embargo. To restore confidence with Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force (SHAEF), the Associated Press fired Kennedy. On May 10, the New York Times ran a series of articles criticizing Kennedy; Brigadier General Frank A. Allen (June 19, 1896 – November 20, 1979), Director of SHAEF’s Public Relations Division, wrote an article that claimed there was no public announcement, when SHAEF authorized the Nazi Germans in Flensberg to announce the surrender. This broadcast, from Hamburg, convinced Kennedy that the embargo was lifted. The New York Times editorial page savaged Kennedy, claiming the incident “has done grave disservice to the newspaper profession.” Because Kennedy had waited for the Nazi German announcement, and the embargo was politically, not militarily, motivated, the Associated Press apologized for firing him. “It was handled in the worst possible way,” said Associated Press President Thomas Curley (born July 6, 1948). “Officially,” wrote the New York Herald Tribune next day, “it was V Day minus one, but to these New Yorkers, it was The Day.” The New York Times described what happened as the news spread: “It swept the city with gale velocity. Men and women, utter strangers, shouted it to one another…housewives screamed it from the windows. Clerks and typists shrilled it from the skyscrapers. River craft east and west took it up and fed the din with siren and whistle blasts. Cabbies pounded it out on their horns. Women ran down 23rd Street and Eighth Avenue excitedly shouting, ‘It’s over! The war’s over!’” “People stared at one another…Then the great paper and cloth throwing orgy began. Paper in every possible form and description cascaded from a hundred thousand windows – scrap paper, ledgers, playing cards, torn telephone book fragments, stationery, streamers, ticker tape.” By 1000 Hours, paper was piled high in the street, but more solid symbols of celebration followed from the windows of dress manufacturers and wholesalers, whose workers ‘threw bale upon bale of textiles into the street: rayon, silk, woollens, prints, foulards – every conceivable remnant in every possible shade and hue – turned and squirmed in the thin morning sunlight. Within the hour, 6th, 7th and 8th Avenue and Broadway were 8 to 10 inches deep in multicoloured fabrics. Thrifty passers-by forgot their delirium long enough to salvage some of the larger remnants…Passing trucks, pleasure cars and cabs were draped with the material. It clung to ledges, sills and cornices and the wind played with it and tore at it. Men and women in the streets tore it from their hats and shoulders. This was not the only largesse available in New York, not usually the place to give much away, that day. Opposite Macy’s women hung from windows waving bottles of liquor, screaming “Hey, soldiers! Hey, sailors! Come on up and get a drink!” A Times Square jeweler, seized with the common fever, ran up to a passing news photographer shouting, “I have two sons overseas. They’ll come home to me now.” He dashed into his shop, came out with a handsome wrist watch and pressed it on the photographer. “Keep it,” he cried, “I want you to have it.” The bewildered photographer had not quite absorbed this welcome shock when a few yards down the street a stationer charged up to him with a carton of cigarettes and thrust them at him. The stationer was in much the same state of hysteria as the jeweler. “Take that, keep that,” he insisted. By lunchtime, Times Square was thronged with joyous crowds and people trying to pass a movie theatre encountered an unfamiliar obstacle; the whole queue was on its knees uttering prayers of thanksgiving. The incomparable New York Telephone Company found its switchboards swamped as rejoicing subscribers broke the news to their friends. The rejoicing continued into the afternoon, observed by the correspondent of the Manchester Guardian: “In Times Square thousands of people, yelling ceaselessly, packed the streets, stopping all traffic as far as the eye could see. Milling crowds blocked all thoroughfares. Press photographers clambered on to window-ledges to snap the fantastic scene of men and women going wild in the mid-morning sunshine…Outside one Broadway hotel a group of allied servicemen, Americans, British and Canadians, formed a grinning line while an endless queue of girls marched past to give them congratulatory kisses.” The city authorities described the celebrations as “bigger than 1918” and the New York Times estimated that, between 1000 Hours and 1700 Hours, “a million or more New Yorkers danced in the streets.” Then came retribution, a stern telling-off from Mayor Fiorello La Guardia (December 11, 1882 – September 20, 1947), as the New York Times recorded: “I want all the people of the City of New York who have thoughtlessly left their jobs, to go home…Maybe there’s still some fighting going on. You don’t know and I don’t know…Let’s be patient for just a few more hours.” A hush closed on the Square and men, women, soldiers, sailors, marines, bobbysoxers and high school freshmen in the tremendous throng looked sheepishly at one another. Salty O’Rourke is a 1945 American sports drama film directed by Raoul Walsh (March 11, 1887 – December 31, 1980) and starring Alan Ladd September 3, 1913 – January 29, 1964), Gail Russell (September 21, 1924 – August 26, 1961) and William Demarest (February 27, 1892 – December 28, 1983). Produced and distributed by Paramount Pictures, it was nominated for an Academy Award in 1946. Photo by Harry Harris (March 25, 1913 – February 13, 2002). In 1944, his 2 brothers already drafted, he volunteered as a photographer in the Signal Corps. On the evening of June 6, 1944, he crossed into France with the U.S. 1st Army and over the ensuing weeks documented the Battle of Normandy and the liberation of Paris. | |
| Image Filename | wwii0895.jpg |
| Image Size | 275.50 KB |
| Image Dimensions | 1500 x 1125 |
| Photographer | Harry Harris |
| Photographer Title | |
| Caption Author | Written or Adapted by Jason McDonald |
| Date Photographed | May 7, 1945 |
| Location | |
| City | New York |
| State or Province | New York |
| Country | United States |
| Archive | |
| Record Number | |
| Status | Caption ©2026 MFA Productions LLC Please Do Not Duplicate or Distribute Without Permission; Image in the Public Domain |
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