As the world watches the latest Olympic Games unfold in Paris, many have raised eyebrows at the challenges plaguing this year's event.
From concerns over the Seine’s water quality to blunders like mispronouncing country names and playing the wrong anthems, not to mention the controversies over athlete gender identity, it's safe to say that this summer’s Olympics have seen their share of turmoil.
But before you deem this the most chaotic Games ever, let’s take a trip back 120 years to the 1904 Olympics in St. Louis—an event so riddled with mishaps that it makes Paris seem like a well-oiled machine.
The 1904 Olympics marked the first time the Games were held in America, and what should have been a celebration of international athleticism quickly turned into a spectacle of absurdity. Nowhere was this more evident than in the marathon, an event that should symbolize endurance and human spirit, but instead became a dark comedy of errors.
The Bizarre Race of 1904
Out of the 32 competitors who lined up at the start, only a handful were seasoned marathoners. The rest were a mix of amateurs and those who had never even seen a marathon track before.
The weather that day was brutal, with temperatures soaring above 30°C (86°F), and the course—a 40-kilometer trek over seven hills and dusty roads—did nothing to ease their suffering. Runners had to dodge traffic and pedestrians as they made their way along the course, which featured just one water station at the 20-kilometer mark.
This wasn’t a mere oversight; it was a deliberate choice by the race organizers to test a popular scientific theory of the time, which suggested that minimal water intake could enhance athletic performance.
And so, at exactly 3:03 PM on August 30, 1904, the marathon began—setting the stage for one of the most chaotic races in Olympic history.
Fred Lorz: Disqualified for Taking a Car
More than three hours later, spectators at the finish line were thrilled to see the first runner approach. It was Fred Lorz, an American bricklayer who had trained for the race by running at night after work.
Despite suffering severe cramps mid-race, Lorz managed to cross the finish line. However, just as he was about to receive his gold medal, the cheers of the crowd turned to jeers. It turned out that Lorz had hitched a ride in his coach’s car for 18 kilometers after his cramps became too much to bear, only jumping out near the finish line to run the last stretch.
When his ruse was uncovered, Lorz shrugged it off as a joke, claiming he only pretended to win “for fun” and had no intention of accepting the medal. The officials were not amused, and Lorz was promptly disqualified and banned from future Olympic competitions.
Thomas Hicks: Rat Poison for the Win
With Lorz out of the running, the gold medal went to the second-place finisher, Thomas Hicks, whose race was even stranger. Hicks, a professional clown by trade, had started strong, but by the 11th kilometer, he was struggling. That’s when his trainers concocted a “performance-enhancing” mixture of brandy, egg whites, and strychnine sulfate—a substance commonly used in rat poison.
Today, even small doses of strychnine are banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency, but back then, it was seen as a stimulant.
Hicks continued the race in a delirious state, barely able to keep his balance, but somehow managed to stagger across the finish line, only to collapse immediately afterward. He had to be carried away and treated by doctors, who warned that the combination of dehydration, exhaustion, and toxic substances could have killed him.
Félix Carvajal: The Friendly Cuban Who Stopped for Snacks
One of the more colorful characters in the 1904 marathon was Félix Carvajal, a Cuban postman who had charmed his way into the race despite having little money or training. His good nature and talkative personality led him to stop frequently along the course to chat with spectators.
During one of these breaks, a hungry Carvajal helped himself to some peaches offered by onlookers. Later, he veered off course to pick apples from a nearby farm, only to discover they were rotten. The resulting stomachache forced him to lie down and take a nap mid-race.
Despite all these distractions, Carvajal still managed to finish fourth.
Len Taunyane and Jan Mashiani: Chased by Wild Dogs
The race also featured two South African runners, Len Taunyane and Jan Mashiani, who were members of the Tswana tribe. They had been brought to St. Louis as part of a racist “Anthropology Days” event that involved people from various ethnic groups competing in sports they had never practiced.
Despite these circumstances, Taunyane and Mashiani, who had experience as messengers during the Boer War, fared better than most of the competitors, finishing ninth and twelfth, respectively. However, Taunyane might have placed higher if he hadn’t been chased off course by a pack of wild dogs.
William Garcia: Nearly Died from Dust Inhalation
Others were not so lucky. Several runners dropped out due to vomiting or cramps, but the most harrowing story belonged to William Garcia from California. Garcia was found on the side of the road, coughing up blood and barely conscious.
He was rushed to the hospital, where doctors discovered that he had inhaled so much dust kicked up by the cars on the course that his esophagus and stomach lining were torn. Dehydrated and overheating, Garcia came dangerously close to becoming the first athlete to die during an Olympic event.
The “Killer Event” Legacy
Of the 32 runners who started the race that hot afternoon, only 14 crossed the finish line—the lowest completion rate in Olympic marathon history. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch dubbed the event a “killing field,” and the International Olympic Committee seriously considered removing the marathon from future Games.
As for the athletes? Fred Lorz’s lifetime ban was lifted the following year, allowing him to win the Boston Marathon in 1905. Félix Carvajal’s impressive (if unconventional) performance earned him sponsorship from the Cuban government to compete in a marathon in Athens in 1906, though he mysteriously disappeared en route. A year later, he resurfaced in Havana, safe and sound, but never revealed what had happened during his year-long absence.
Len Taunyane and Jan Mashiani, though they didn’t know it at the time, were the first Black Africans to compete in a modern Olympic Games, and would remain the only ones to do so until apartheid was abolished in the early 1990s. After 1904, they vanished from the historical record, their brief moment of Olympic fame lost to time.
In retrospect, the chaos of the 1904 St. Louis Olympics makes today’s controversies seem almost quaint. But it’s a reminder that the Olympic spirit has always thrived on overcoming challenges—whether they come from within or without—and that sometimes, the most extraordinary stories are born from the most unexpected moments of adversity.