February 9: A Disputed Election, A Star Embedded, and Beatles Mania
February 9 connects three moments that reveal American culture and politics—when the House of Representatives overturned the popular will and elected a president through what opponents called a corrupt bargain, when Hollywood created a tradition of literally immortalizing fame in sidewalk stars, and when 73 million Americans watched four young men from Liverpool prove that television could unite a nation around a cultural phenomenon. These stories remind us that electoral systems can produce controversial results, that fame seeks permanence even in concrete, and that sometimes a television appearance changes everything.
The Corrupt Bargain
On February 9, 1825, the House of Representatives elected John Quincy Adams as the sixth President of the United States on the first ballot, though Andrew Jackson had won both the popular vote and the most electoral votes in the 1824 election. The four-way race between Adams, Jackson, William Crawford, and Henry Clay had split the electoral college with no candidate achieving the required majority, throwing the decision to the House under the Twelfth Amendment. Each state delegation cast one vote, and Clay—eliminated from contention but wielding enormous influence as Speaker—threw his support to Adams, providing the margin of victory. Days later, Adams appointed Clay as Secretary of State, traditionally a stepping stone to the presidency.
Jackson's supporters immediately cried foul, calling it a "corrupt bargain" between Adams and Clay to steal the election from the people's choice. Whether an actual deal existed or Clay simply preferred Adams's nationalist vision over Jackson's populism remains debated, but the perception of corruption poisoned Adams's presidency from the start. He accomplished little legislatively, lost badly to Jackson in 1828, and his one term became defined by the circumstances of his election rather than his policies. The election of 1825 demonstrated that America's electoral system could produce presidents who lost the popular vote, that House selection opened doors to backroom dealing, and that legitimacy matters as much as legal authority. The "corrupt bargain" that elevated Adams on this day taught Americans that winning elections requires both constitutional validity and popular acceptance—without both, a presidency becomes an asterisk in history rather than a chapter of achievement. The episode fueled Jackson's populist appeal and contributed to the democratic reforms that would follow, proving that sometimes stolen elections strengthen democracy by revealing its flaws.
Fame Set in Stone
On February 9, 1960, actress Joanne Woodward became the first celebrity to have her star embedded in the Hollywood Walk of Fame, inaugurating what would become one of entertainment's most recognizable honors. The Walk of Fame was conceived by E.M. Stuart, president of the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, as a way to recapture Hollywood's glamour and attract tourists to the aging district. Woodward, who had won the Academy Award for Best Actress for The Three Faces of Eve in 1957, was chosen for the honor partly because she was married to Paul Newman and represented Hollywood royalty, but also because she happened to be in town for the ceremony.
The Hollywood Walk of Fame grew to encompass over 2,700 stars along 15 blocks of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street, honoring actors, musicians, directors, producers, and even fictional characters. Each star represents not just individual achievement but Hollywood's need to memorialize itself, to make fame permanent in a business built on fleeting trends. The stars transform sidewalks into a map of entertainment history, where tourists step on legends and take selfies with names embedded in terrazzo and brass. Getting a star requires both achievement and a $75,000 sponsorship fee, revealing the commercial reality behind the honor. The tradition that began on this day demonstrated Hollywood's genius for self-promotion, its understanding that fame seeks immortality even in concrete, and its ability to turn public sidewalks into shrines where ordinary people commune with celebrity. Woodward's star—the first of thousands—proved that entertainment industry achievement could be literally embedded in the landscape, making fame as permanent as the pavement beneath our feet.
73 Million Witnesses
On February 9, 1964, The Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show, performing five songs before 73 million viewers—roughly 40% of the American population and the largest audience in television history to that point. Just two days after arriving at Kennedy Airport to screaming fans, John, Paul, George, and Ringo stood on Sullivan's stage in CBS Studio 50 (now the Ed Sullivan Theater) and played "All My Loving," "Till There Was You," "She Loves You," "I Saw Her Standing There," and "I Want to Hold Your Hand." Girls in the audience screamed so loudly the band could barely hear themselves. America watched, entranced and bewildered, as four mop-topped young men from Liverpool sang about hand-holding with infectious energy and undeniable charisma.
The appearance transformed American culture overnight. Parents who watched were mystified; their children were converted. The Beatles returned to Sullivan's show twice more that month, and Beatlemania consumed American youth. The performance demonstrated television's power to create shared cultural moments, to unite a nation around a single event before cable fragmented audiences. Crime rates reportedly dropped during the broadcast—even criminals were watching. The Beatles' Sullivan appearance marked the moment when rock and roll moved from teenage rebellion to mainstream phenomenon, when British culture conquered American airwaves, and when four working-class lads proved that talent, charisma, and the right platform could change the world. The 73 million who watched on this night witnessed not just a concert but a cultural earthquake, the moment when the 1960s truly began and American pop culture would never be the same. That performance on Sullivan's stage created a before-and-after in American music, fashion, and youth culture—73 million witnesses to the invasion that conquered without firing a shot.
