From Chaos to Commerce: The Strange, Turbulent Origins of Black Friday #04

From Chaos to Commerce: The Strange, Turbulent Origins of Black Friday 

By Prometheus Capital

Black Friday was not born from celebration, tradition, or clever marketing. It began as a problem — a local headache that eventually grew into a national economic phenomenon.

The earliest roots trace back to post–Civil War America, when department stores like Macy’s and Eaton’s began hosting massive Thanksgiving parades to signal the official start of holiday shopping. Retailers agreed not to advertise Christmas sales until after Thanksgiving, which made the Friday after the holiday the natural “opening day” of the retail season.

But the day’s modern identity began taking shape in 1950s Philadelphia.

Every year, the Army-Navy football game drew tens of thousands of visitors into the city the day after Thanksgiving. Streets were clogged, stores were mobbed, and the police force was stretched so thin that officers dreaded the shift. They called the day “Black Friday” because the entire city seemed to sink into gridlock and chaos.

Retailers hated the term — at first. It made the whole affair sound grim, dangerous, and unprofitable. They tried to rebrand the day as “Big Friday”, but the public didn’t buy it. “Black Friday” stuck because it felt real. It captured the madness of the crowds better than any sanitized corporate slogan.

But then something changed.

By the late 1960s, Philadelphia retailers realized the term had power — and potential. They began promoting “Black Friday” more openly, using the name as a way to emphasize excitement instead of disorder. Shopping was no longer a burden; it was an event.

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, the phrase spread across the country. Only then did a new myth emerge — one invented by marketers, not historians: the idea that “Black Friday” referred to the moment when retailers moved from “the red” (losses) to “the black” (profits). It was clever, clean, and easy to sell. Even though it wasn’t historically accurate, it became the dominant explanation.

But perhaps the most important transition happened in the 1980s and 1990s, when major retailers — Walmart, Sears, JCPenney, Kmart — began weaponizing the day with doorbusters, deep discounts, and 5 a.m. openings. This era transformed Black Friday from a busy shopping day into a national ritual defined by adrenaline, scarcity, and competition.

By the 2000s, footage of long lines, stampedes, and chaotic crowds became part of the cultural landscape. The frenzy — previously a local Philadelphia phenomenon — had become a nationwide spectacle. It was a uniquely American blend of capitalism, psychology, tradition, and myth-making.

From there, the evolution accelerated. Cyber Monday emerged. Online shopping grew. Thanksgiving Day openings came and went. Black Friday deals expanded into weeklong events, then monthlong campaigns.

But the core idea survived: the day after Thanksgiving would be the moment when American consumers acted in unison, kicking off the largest shopping wave of the year.

Black Friday’s origins show how a city overwhelmed by crowds accidentally created one of the most profitable economic engines in modern history. Its lore — part myth, part chaos, part strategy — is a reminder that some of America’s biggest economic traditions weren’t designed; they were stumbled into.