Before The Beatles, Before Elvis: The 1944 Riot That Crowned Frank Sinatra Pop's First King
Forget Elvis Presley. The blueprint for modern music hysteria was drawn in 1944 when 30,000 teenage fans, known as 'bobby-soxers,' mobbed Times Square for a Frank Sinatra concert, sparking what became known as the Columbus Day Riot and changing pop culture forever.
The King Before 'The King'
When you think of screaming, fainting, fanatical crowds that defined the birth of pop stardom, your mind likely jumps to two places: Elvis Presley swiveling his hips on The Ed Sullivan Show in the 50s, or The Beatles arriving at JFK Airport to a symphony of shrieks in the 60s. But the true genesis of this phenomenon, the patient zero of pop music hysteria, happened a full decade earlier. The star was a skinny crooner from Hoboken, New Jersey, and the event was a full-blown riot that shut down Times Square.
On October 12, 1944, Frank Sinatra was the true king, and his coronation was a chaotic spectacle known as the Columbus Day Riot.
A Perfect Storm in Times Square
The setting was the Paramount Theatre in New York City. World War II was raging, and American culture was in a unique state of flux. With millions of men overseas, a new cultural and economic force was emerging: the teenage girl. Armed with jobs, allowances, and a desire for an icon who wasn't a soldier, they found their hero in Frank Sinatra. He wasn't a muscle-bound GI; he was thin, almost fragile, with a voice that conveyed a vulnerability that felt personal and intoxicating.
His fans, dubbed 'bobby-soxers' for their signature folded-down socks and saddle shoes, were ready to show their devotion. When Sinatra was scheduled to open a three-week engagement at the Paramount, they showed up in force. And then some. An estimated 30,000 fans, mostly young women who had skipped school, descended on Times Square. The theatre itself only held around 3,600 people.
The New York Times reported that the fans created a 'human Niagara' that 'poured into the Paramount Theatre'. From the moment the doors opened at 8:30 AM, the situation spiraled. The box office was smashed. So were a dozen shop windows. Inside, the sound was deafening, not just from the music, but from the collective, piercing scream of thousands of attendees.
More Than Just Screaming Fans
The scene outside was one of pandemonium. The massive, unexpected crowd overwhelmed the authorities. Over 400 police officers, including a contingent of mounted police, were dispatched to try and control the mob. Traffic in Times Square ground to a halt. The sheer scale of the event was unprecedented. It wasn't just a long line for a popular movie; it was a cultural flashpoint. For the first time, the collective power of a teenage fan base was on full, riotous display.
While some initially dismissed the hysteria, or even credited it to savvy PR from Sinatra's press agent, George Evans, the Columbus Day Riot proved it was an authentic, unstoppable force. Evans may have paid a few girls to scream at early shows to get the ball rolling, but no publicist could manufacture a 30,000-person mob that shuts down the heart of New York City.
The Legacy of the Riot
The Columbus Day Riot was more than just a chaotic day. It was the birth of modern fandom. It established the archetype of the pop idol and demonstrated the immense cultural and economic power of the youth market, particularly young women. The bobby-soxers didn't just buy records; they created a culture around their idol, turning concerts into sites of ecstatic, shared experience. Every screaming fan who chased The Beatles, every tear shed for Michael Jackson, and every online army that propels a modern pop star to the top of the charts owes a debt to the 30,000 bobby-soxers who, in 1944, crowned Frank Sinatra the first true king of pop.