Above: Asa Candler, Jr., shown 5th from the left, as manager of the Emory College Bicycle Club. 1898 Emory Zodiac
In 1895 Asa Candler, Jr., went away to college. Following in the footsteps of other Candler men, he moved east of Atlanta to a tiny town called Oxford and began life as a freshman at Emory College. His brother had already spent a year there, his cousin Milton enrolled the same year, and his uncle Warren was the college president.
Family correspondence combined with commentary in the annual Emory Zodiac yearbook paint a picture of a young man who marched to the beat of his own drum. He didn’t join student organizations, which made him an exception. He didn’t join a fraternity, which put him in a minority. He smoked and skipped classes and brought home poor grades. He changed his major when his grades proved too slippery to meet expectations. He simply wasn’t as engaged as his father had hoped he would.
Then in 1896 he discovered something that lit a fire inside of him: bicycling.
It’s a common misconception that bicycles preceded automobiles by a significant length of time. In reality bicycles are fairly contemporary machines, and the familiar “safety bicycle” design that we still use today only came along in the 1880s, right around the time that automobile prototypes were first hitting roads in the US and Europe. The invention of this new style of bike, with a chain drive and pneumatic tires, resulted in the 1890s bike boom. Bicycles became a massive fad at the end of the 1800s, so much so that cities invested in roadways that were dedicated to what seemed like a permanent popularity of this form of mechanized transportation.
Bicycle clubs, bicycle races, cross-country bicycle tours, and even cyclist celebrities were born. An African American racer named Major Taylor, also known as “The Black Cyclone” broke color barriers. Historians have argued that the bicycle paved the way for women’s rights. But when bicycles first became a fad, the wealthy were the only ones who could afford them. Brands like Overman Victor were highly desirable and could cost $200 at a time when that was a huge chunk of change.
1896 was peak-boom, and everyone who was anyone wanted a bike. Bicycling premiered as an Olympic sport that year. Then the Panic of 1896 hit and the economy took a dump, driving mass unemployment and financial instability. Since bikes remained popular through the slump, manufacturers shifted resources into bike production and flooded the market with affordable options. By the time Buddie fell in love with bicycling, mass manufacturers like Sears had made prices accessible to average people.
All of this is worth noting because Buddie and Howard didn’t live like royalty at college. Sure, they lived with the school president and their father was raking in money from nickel sodas, but that didn’t mean they had endless means. At least in theory. Asa, Sr., expected them to learn financial management and to demonstrate responsibility by living on a budget. They received a wired monthly stipend and were expected to keep strict records of their income and expenses in a log that their father would review. They knew what their approved purchases were, and knew every penny should be accounted for and would be scrutinized. Howard, by his own account in his 1950 biography, “Asa Griggs Candler”, meticulously tracked his funds as required. Dutiful by nature, although not immune to the lure of skipping class and fighting with his brother, Howard managed to avoid any significant money problems during his school years.
Buddie, on the other hand, did what Buddie always did: exactly what he wanted to do. In Elizabeth Candler Graham’s “The Real Ones,” the author notes that if Buddie had a theme song, it would be Frank Sinatra’s “My Way.” This certainly is true of his decision to buy a bicycle in 1896. Family lore says his father was opposed to the notion of spending money on such frivolity. Additionally, his Uncle Warren had banned bicycle traffic on campus after a crash between a cyclist and a carriage demonstrated the danger posed by the newfangled machines. Many older people at the time regarded bicycles as dangerous contraptions and wanted nothing to do with them. But Buddie wanted one, and he wasn’t about to deny himself what he wanted.
So, the story goes, he spent his stipend on a bicycle. There wasn’t much his father could do about it once the money was spent. And as was typical of Asa, Sr., he abandoned his opposition once his son showed that he wouldn’t listen to reason. But Asa, Sr.’s relationship with the bicycle was terse at best in family correspondences.
In a letter sent to Howard on December 1, 1896, Papa crammed in a side note at the bottom of the page, telling him, “We tried hard to get Buddie’s bicycle. It has not yet been returned.” On Sept 24, 1897, he wrote to both boys, acknowledged that he received Buddie’s last letter, and simply said, “Sorry to hear he broke his bicycle,” before moving on with other matters. He told Howard, “Let Bud buy the book he wants Pay for it with cash from home.” Followed by the advice, “You boys must be economical. Don’t buy everything that occurs to you.”
But family lore suggests that Buddie did exactly that and bought his bike of his own accord, even though Papa didn’t approve.
By 1898 he was fully into the sport of bike racing. This is evidenced by the photo of his bicycle in the Emory Zodiac.
Note the downward curved handlebars, which was a style associated with racing bikes. The downward curve enabled the rider to hunch low over the front wheel and apply more power to the fixed gear pedals, as well as achieve better aerodynamics. This is notable given his later interest in auto racing, and later still in setting aeroplane speed records. His tires are also clearly pneumatic tires. The rectangular shape to the left of the forks of the front tire is a pedal, not brakes. The lack of a thumb lever or a rod descending in front of the head badge suggests that this model had no brakes.
I’ve searched around a bit for a head badge that matches the one visible in this photo. Oval, relatively smooth border, with a small, dark detail in the center. So far I’ve been unsuccessful in matching his badge up with manufacturers of the time period. But local and regional bike manufacturers sold their own makes and models, which could make his bike brand somewhat obscure. If you have any guesses about the make and model of his bike based on the head badge, please contact me.
Bicycling Gallery
Bicycling Resources
Headbadges: the lost, gorgeous bicycle hood ornaments of yesteryear, Boingbong.net.
Headbadge Hunter: Rescuing the Beautiful Branding of Long Lost Bicycles, Collector’s Weekly
Bluetarp Headbage Collection, The Classic and Antique Bicycle Exchange
Calling the Collectors, Rouleur
Bicycle Catalogs of the 1890s, Northwestern University Library