I love this photo. It's a strange thing to see, sure. But it's the subtext that gets me: Sometimes we do really crazy shit in the name of financial success.
Consider this fine fellow, W.H. Murphy, who is taking a .38 caliber bullet right to the chest, just to close a deal. On September 13, 1923, Murphy, who worked for the Protective Garment Corp. of New York, was in Washington, DC showing off his company's wares to the Fredrick County, Maryland Sheriff's Department.
Reportedly, Murphy didn't even blink when the bullet hit. Because he died instantly – kidding, kidding, Murphy was fine. The introduction of protective vests in the early 20th century was needed to combat the emerging criminal gangs utilizing their own homemade armor: several thick layers of cotton padding and cloth.
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