September 6, 1946
Sorry Dear(?)
Wish you and Luce(?) were here at this hotel – room 1205 – mail us(?) that letter soon. And my hand is some better. Write me here whenever you can.
Love,
Junie(?)
Category: Poetry
To: Miss Carolyn Doran. From: Mary 1908
This is where I go bathing. The water is very cold. With love.
From,
Mary
In 1908, Teddy Roosevelt was president, Harvard business school was established, and a deadly tornado struck parts of Louisiana and Mississippi and left 140 people dead and over 700 injured. We were well into the Progressive Era, and the temperance movement was building. They’d hit their crescendo with Prohibition, but that would be a few years to go yet.
There’s something so sweet and innocent about this postcard. From it’s shaky, childish script, to the fact that Mary talks about how cold the water is when she bathes. It recalls us all to childhood, when our worries were small and our families were close.
Carolyn, and thus Mary, were difficult for me to find. I’m not even positive I did find Carolyn. However, I have something of a lead so that’s what I’ll discuss. The Carolyn Doran I found was born in 1898 in Kansas City, Missouri to Samuel Neal Doran and Mary Nagel Doran. Interestingly, Mary had a sister who also named her daughter Caroline, but with the I not the Y.
I couldn’t find much about Carolyn, other than that it doesn’t seem that she got married or really even moved out of her family house. In the census of 1940, she was 42 and still living with her parents. She had one brother, who I think served in World War I and had a son named Neal Samuel Doran. The names really aren’t that interesting, but I got a kick out of the naming practices in this family. I also had to wonder if Mary and her sister fought over the name Carolyn.
As for Mary…I had hoped to find a family relation. However, if Carolyn is indeed our gal, she would have been ten when this card was written. It was sent in July, which means Mary easily could have been a friend enjoying a summer in Maine.
What’s true is that the card is sweet, loving, and beautiful. It’s a balm for a weary soul, and I think we all need a little bit of that in our lives. I hope Mary and Carolyn remained friends, wherever they ended up in their lives.
“Shore Scene, Casco Bay”
To: Mr. Victor A Binford. From: Wren(?). 1910-1918
Dear Doc-
Card just rec’d. My school is going on fine. Hope you are enjoying life. Should be glad to hear from you again.
Best Wishes,
Wren(?)
Although this card was mailed in October, the year is unreadable. Either the ink has faded away or the card was never stamped well enough to begin with. Since it’s a divided back card, it’s 1907 or later, and based on the handwriting I’d say closer to the 1907 mark than the 1918 mark, but I can’t be sure. Suffice it to say, this card was mailed at the turn of the twentieth century. A time where World War I would see soldiers ride in on horses, and fly out on airplanes.
Bliss Business College was founded in 1897 by a set of brothers. It catered to a co-educational group of students and classes included shorthand, spelling, and penmanship. It closed in 1972, but not without a fight from those who had graced it’s halls. At heart, the college was a two year institution, but Wren (or perhaps Oren) must have met “Doc” Victor Binford there and retained a friendship. At least until Victor married.
Victor Abbot Binford was born in Mexico, Maine (yes, this is a place in Maine) on July 3, 1887 to Horace Jose Binford and Bertha Hortense Abbot. What immediately struck me about Victor is that his mother’s maiden name was his given middle name. A nice nod to his maternal side. In 1912, he married Marcia Reed, and together they had one daughter named Sarah.
Interestingly, the Maine Historical Society carries an archive of the Binford, Reed and Hatch family. The collection was gifted to the society after the death of Ann Hatch, Victor’s grand-daughter. Because of the archive, I know a number of things about Victor that I wouldn’t have known. For instance, his father was a medical doctor. Additionally, his mother died young, and Victor was adopted by his father’s new wife, Lula, who happened to be Bertha’s sister. Also, Sarah Hatch (nee Binford) raised arabian horses. Which…feels luxurious to me.
Victor died on January 16, 1960 at the age of 72. Although the postcard calls him “Doc” what’s likely is that Victor attended Bliss Business College, not that he taught there. In 1910 he was 22, single, and living at home. In 1920, he was a dowel turner at Birch Mill. By 1930, Victor was a private chauffeur…possibly for the Reed family. You see, Victor, Marcia, and Sarah all lived with Marcia’s family. According to the Maine Historical society, Marcia graduated from Smith College, and helped run The Roxbury Telephone company.
In 1940, Victor was the book keeper for “Wood Turning”, which I think is the Birch Mill because by 1950, he was the head of the household (no longer the son-in-law) and was the book-keeper for the Birch Mill. Marcia, on the other hand, was the tax collector for Roxbury County. It’s interesting, because I’m unsure if these are all family businesses, or if Victor truly bounced around. However, I’m somewhat certain that the sender of this postcard addressed him as “Doc” because his father was a doctor and Victor somehow got that moniker.
I’m sad I couldn’t find Wren. However, what’s certain is that I had a lot of fun following the threads of Victor and Marcia’s lives. I’ve said it before, but the cold black and white of papered archives gives very little actual detail of a life. However, it’s what we read between the lines that brings color into a life (hopefully) well lived.
From: Unknown To: Lloyd Hubbler, 1911
Oh you kid: I’d enjoy another dance with you like the one I had at the Dickeyville dance. Would like to make a date with you, “You Honey Bunch”. Will try and be out for the 15th. Hope you will be there, dear. Will show you another good time. Oh honey I am so lonesome. From – you know who.
(flipped) Look under the stamp honey bunch. xxxxxxx
This is my picture honey.
(On front) I am ready xxx. From your sweet little wife. S.W.A.K
God am so home sick for a x x
Lloyds sweet wife ha ha
I can’t express to you how much I am obsessed with this card. Every inch of it is filled with writing. X’s dot the landscape of both the front and the back and someone added additional rouging and eyeliner to the image on the front. This postcard SCREAMS of some sort of joke, and I am absolutely here for it. So, let’s drop the card into history.
1911 sees the disaster of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory in New York, the invention of Crisco, and the founding of the first movie studio. However, I have to wonder if the news of these events hit the small village of Potosi. Situated in the southwest corner of Wisconsin, modern day Potosi boasts a population of just over 600 people. Like many small towns, it was originally founded as a mining and farming village. Now, it hosts an annual catfish festival and fish fry the second weekend of August.
In 1911, Lloyd Hubler was a few months shy of his 20th birthday, and at least according to Family Search, still unmarried. He had one brother, who was 8 years his senior. Although the card puts Lloyd’s last name as “Hubbler”, I’m pretty sure it was “Hubler”. The Lloyd I found has a father named “William Scott”, but he’s listed as Scott W. in the census records. Seeing as the card was sent “c/o Scott Hubbler”, and the Hubler’s lived in Harrison County (where Potosi is located), I’m fairly certain I have the right man.
But birth days, death days, draft registrations, and the marriage index provide only the barest amount of context for a life. Who sent this card to Lloyd? Why? There are a few clues that we can use to point us in the right direction. Or at least to make some fun and semi-guesses.
First, the card was sent on February 16, two days after Valentines Day. My mind immediately goes to two scenarios. First, maybe there was a Valentines Dance for the surrounding area. Here, Lloyd met a girl and made the gravest mistake: he told his friends about her. Looking to pull a prank, they put together this card and sent it to him, care of his FATHER for added embarrassment.
Second, Lloyd’s older brother was 28 at the time. It’s possible he sent the card as a practical joke, but why would he misspell the name? It’s feasible the name is actually misspelled in the census records. But, while I think it’s possible Lloyd’s brother had something to do with the card, I doubt it was entirely done by the brother.
So, poor Lloyd had to deal with the embarrassment of being sent this provocative card. Because it was a postcard, everyone could see everything. Not only could his father see the card and read it…but so could the postman, the postal workers…you get the idea. What did poor Lloyd do to deserve this humiliation? We will never know.
Lloyd did end up finding his “sweet” wife. In 1918, he married Leora Hinman. They went on to have three children. She outlived her husband by a decade, but I hope that their life together was S.W.A.K.
From: Mary E. Wood, To: Mrs. Ethyl Beranek 1942
4/27/42
Hello.
Roanoke is preparing for blackouts and everyone is cooperating well. Thanks for the card. Do you have L.L. Iowa or other cities? I’d like a card of each scene as shown in little’s CEDAR RAPIDS. Thanks and write soon.
Sincerely,
Mary E. Wood
422 Albemarle Ave S.W.
Roanoke, Virginia
Have you any foreign correspondents?
By the time Mary wrote this letter, the United States had newly entered World War II. A few months earlier, in February, a Japanese submarine had attacked an oil refinery in Santa Barbara, California. Though the attack didn’t cause much damage, fears and tensions in the United States were high. Shortly after the attack on California, FDR signed Executive Order 9066 which led to the internment of 125,000 people, two thirds of which were American Citizens.
In April, the country was already well on its way to mobilizing for war. In preparation, many cities — including Roanoke — were practicing blackouts. The city had practiced at least two blackouts by the time Mary sent her letter to Ethyl. Families bought blackout curtains for their windows and hoods for their headlights. At some point during the blackout, air raid sirens blared and people extinguished lights, pulled over and listened for the test to be over.
The fear of invasion is a type of fear I hope I never have to experience, and to see it documented in this letter is so interesting. Mary expresses prepping for an invasion first, which tells me it was probably at the top of her mind.
However, the wartime blackout conditions are juxtaposed by Mary’s request for different types of postcards. It almost seems like she’s part of some sort of post crossing program before post crossing existed! Or, as we elder millennials remember it as: pen pals. I do wonder if Mary personally knew Ethyl and the two of them were simply card collectors, or if it was a type of pen pal program. Very interesting.
As for Mary Wood, I think I found her. She was born as Mary Ellen Thurston, but her first husband had the last name Wood. She later divorced and remarried, becoming Mary Ellen Truslow. What’s strange is that I found her second marriage certificate, which listed her birthday year as 1927, but her grave and all other documentation lists 1921.
As for Ethyl, funnily enough the first thing that popped up when I searched was another postcard to her. Same address, though a different sender. Wouldn’t that have been the bee’s knees? After a little more digging on Family Search, I managed to ascertain that she probably passed away shortly after World War II — 1953 to be exact.
The obituary states that she had suffered from an “illness for the past year.” Two of her sons died shortly after, one in 1955 and another in 1958. An overall sad end to an interesting postcard.
I hope that the two women remained in correspondence until Ethyl’s untimely death. Perhaps this small blog post can help keep the memory of their connection alive.
Front of Postcard. One of a few Natural Bridge postcards that I own
To: Miss Annie Earl. From: AS(?) 1915
I wish I could send you more than a (unreadable)
In 1915, Woodrow Wilson was president, the United States began it’s occupation of Haiti, the Lusitania was sunk by a German U-Boat, and the United States recognized the new Mexican Government as a de-facto government.
This is one of the few cards I have that’s from a true resort town, and I love the vibes of it all. By 1915, Atlantic City was already a destination city, bringing in over 500,000 people by rail every year. At this time, the boardwalk was over 7 miles long, and an array of large hotels sprawled along the ocean, some capable of holding up to 2,000 guests. I have to assume that the sender of this card was in Atlantic City on vacation, though, of course, they could have been a seasonal worker.
As beautiful as the card is, it’s a tad frustrating because there’s simply not much information. The last word is illegible (for me), and even the sender’s signature is nothing more than scrawled initials. I do have the name “Annie Earl”, but even that led to a dead end. There were many, many, Ann’s, Anna’s, and Annie’s that fit the time frame — and while I have a suspicion of which one or two might be correct, I don’t feel confident enough to write about them. So, I’ll leave you with some theories.
My first guess is that this is one of two types of card. Either, from one sibling to another, or from one friend to another (with a possible romantic entanglement since that’s how I role). My gut feeling tells me this is probably an older sibling writing to a younger one. Maybe they were working in Atlantic City but couldn’t send money, or maybe they simply didn’t have enough time to send a full letter.
My less prominent theory — but perhaps more fun one — is that this is a beau writing to his girl. Maybe he was down on his luck and had gone to Atlantic City to earn some dough and that didn’t go through. Maybe he wanted to get enough money to marry. I genuinely don’t think this is the case, but since I’m left with little information, it’s fun to think about the possibilities.
Either way, it’s a beautiful card with elegant and sweeping handwriting. It feels like there’s a cool breeze drifting in from the ocean, and I envision the sender quickly writing out the letter on the boardwalk, squinting their eyes against the sun. What a lovely memorial to a July day.
“Scene at the Inlet”
To: Miss Elizabeth Jordan. From: Joe 1907
This is a typical Rocky Mountain Town.
Joe
In 1907, Teddy Roosevelt was president, Ellis Island saw the busiest year, with 1.1 million immigrants arriving, a variety of national forests was established (thanks to Roosevelt), and a major financial crisis hit the New York Stock Exchange. The crisis was only stopped with a group of financiers, including J.P. Morgan, funded a pool of $25,000,000 to bail the exchange out. This led to the Federal Reserve.
Officially, the US “closed” the frontier in 1890. However, that doesn’t mean that the wide expanse of western land and sweeping western skies filled with fluffy cumulus clouds didn’t hold an appeal. Even the postcard shows blue skies dotted with clouds and land that trundles off into the distance, unobscured and untouched. Certainly different from a place like Delaware County, Pennsylvania, that had been settled by Europeans since before the founding of our nation.
I’ve featured this postcard before, but as I’ve said in a few previous posts, I’m trying to re-visit some of my favorite cards in an effort to provide more information and perhaps uncover some of the people involved. I did talk somewhat extensively about Silverton, Colorado on my first post — but suffice it to say, it was a mining town that looks very much the same today as it did in 1907.
As for Elizabeth Jordan, I believe I found her. Elizabeth was born on January 24, 1892 to Elizabeth McFarlin and Jacob Jordan. She was the 6th of 8 children, all of whom survived and lived (mostly) long lives. In 1907, she would have been 15 years old. In 1922, she married Bonva Allen. They had one child together.
I’m fairly certain of my identification of Elizabeth, since I can place her in Delaware County, PA (she was the only one). Based on her age, I hoped it would be a straight shot from her to Joe. I thought maybe a brother, but none match the name. That led me to think that it was perhaps a cousin who wrote. But, her parents both have a lot of siblings and still, I couldn’t find a cousin named “Joe”. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a cousin, it just means the records are a bit fuzzy.
It’s possible, as well, that this is not our Elizabeth. It’s always a little dicey with research, especially since I have access to so few records. I don’t have a subscription to the bigger sites like Ancestry, and I don’t pay for newspapers.com. Maybe one day I’ll splurge, but that day is not today. For now, then, Joe will have to remain a mystery. But I do hope that when Elizabeth received this card, her mind was filled with the thought of crisp, clean mountain air, skies that went on for days, and falling asleep under a painting of milky stars.
Front of Card: Silverton, Colorado.
To: Miss Esther Vandevere From: Bro Bill 1914
Arrived O.K. 3 hours late. Had a pleasant journey. Will write later.
With Love,
Bro Bill
(on side): With best regards to “miss Bertha Nelson”
In 1914, Woodrow Wilson was president, 4 people were killed in the “Lexington Avenue Bombing”, which was a failed attempt to assassinate John D. Rockefeller, days later, 5,000 people attended a rally to remember the anarchists killed in the bombing. The last passenger pigeon died, and Henry Ford sold 248,000 cars. The first world war had begun, but America was still a few years away from joining.
This postcard has everything I love: a familial connection and a love story. The sender and the recipient are related, and Bill even asks his sister to give his best regards to Bertha, whom I will assume is his paramour. I know that historians are not supposed to assume…but this is a personal blog, not a peer reviewed article, and I think Bill liked Bertha.
Frustratingly, despite the swath of information on this card, I couldn’t find a single person listed. I searched for Bill and William (since “Bill” is likely a nickname). I searched for Esther with Vandevere maiden and married names, and I even searched for Bertha. I tried Vandever, Vandevere, and Vandiever. I even tried Dever, with the thought that the “van” was dropped from government records. All this do no avail.
The only sort of hit I got was a first class passenger list from the S.S. Lurline. In 1937 there was a William and a Wilabeth Vandevere that sailed from Los Angeles to Hawaii. I thought the name “Wilabeth” was strange…could it be our William and Bertha? I somehow doubt it, but it was an exciting hit, at first.
As an aside, the SS Lurline is an interesting ship. It made the runs to Hawaii and Australasia during the 1930’s, it even carried Amelia Earhart and her plan to Hawaii before her record breaking solo flight from Hawaii to Oakland. On December 7, 1941, it was enroute to Hawaii when Pearl Harbor was bombed. It arrived, after taking a zig-zagging route, days later. The ship was thereafter commissioned during WWII to carry troops and supplies from California to Hawaii or Australia.
It goes to show that archives are never easy, nor is information a given. I was lucky over the last few days, and so I suppose I needed an off day when it came to finding senders and recipients. That being said, I’d sort of like to believe that Bill returned from Philadelphia, married Bertha, and lived a long and happy life with her. Perhaps they even voyaged to Hawaii.
Until tomorrow, fam. Stay posted.
Front of Postcard: Beaver Dam, Zoological Gardens, Philadelphia
To: Mrs. J. Clarkson, From: Ruth. 1945
Monday Evening
10:30 PM
Sept. 3, 1945
Dearest Mother,
Haven’t seen this yet, but there’s a view for you. (unclear) badly put in our first work day and it wasn’t too bad. Spent the morning registering and signing forms. Had a picnic lunch out on the lawn and back to lectures and instructions until 5 p.m. Came back to hotel, changed, and (unclear) to a place called “Treasure Island” for dinner. Did some window shopping on the way back and here I am. Have to be Johnny-on-the-spot tomorrow at 9 a.m. Howe’s everything?
All my love,
your, Ruth.
September 3, 1945 was “Victory over Japan” day, or V-J Day, as that’s when Japan officially signed documents of surrender. Though, you wouldn’t know it from this particular postcard. In fact, there’s no mention of the war at all, not even a passing relief that it was finally over. As a historian, I find this fascinating.
In 1945, citizens of the United States had borne witness to the horrors that came out of the end of World War II. Liberated concentration camps, sunken faces of POW’s, and Nuclear Bombs pervaded newspapers for months. It’s no wonder, then, that Ruth simply tried to lead a normal life. As we know so well, when everything around you feels like it’s tumbling down, you cling to what you can control. Perhaps that’s what Ruth was doing, leaning into the mundane because she could control it.
When I started out, I wasn’t sure I would find Ruth or her family. I did have her first and last name, but I didn’t have the name of her mother, or father. However, after digging a bit on the internet, I found that in 1938, Ruth was teaching high school. The entry is as follows:
Miss Ruth Barbara CLARKSON
Who has taught at the Lincoln School for several years and is completing her first year at Manistee High School, received her A.B. degree from the University of Michigan. She teaches civics (12), economics (12), sociology (12), and English (11). Miss CLARKSON was born in Highland Park, Illinois, and is a graduate of Manistee High School. She assisted the Junior Class sponsor with the J-Hop.
(“Most Popular” female faculty member)
Since Manistee is a relatively small town, and since the time-frame sits right, I figured I had our Ruth. More digging, and I confirmed that Miss Ruth Barbara Clarkson, the most popular female faculty member at Manistee High School in 1938 is very likely our Ruth. I managed to find her grave, which lists her father as Joseph W. Clarkson. Hence, “Mrs. J. Clarkson.”
Ruth was born on October 9, 1910 to Joseph and Bessie Clarkson. Because of that wonderful yearbook blurb, we know that she earned a degree at the University of Michigan, and taught high school for several years. She died on April 13, 1963 at only 52. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find an obituary.
Why was she in Washington D.C? The tone of the card indicates she was doing some sort of work, and that she planned on going to Mount Vernon. And, I have to wonder, did she take students on a trip out there? Was it some sort of Civics convention? I myself will be taking the 8th graders I teach to Washington D.C. this Spring. It’s possible that she was on some sort of school trip. Perhaps that’s why she went through a list of everything they did. And maybe that’s why she had to be “Johnny-on-the-spot” in the morning. She had a bunch of students to wrangle!
It’s only conjecture, of course. The postcard gives us a lot of detail, but very little actual knowledge. What is apparent, however, is that she must have been close to her mother.
I do love this postcard. I hope Ruth had a wonderful time, and I hope she spent more lovely days in Washington D.C. seeing the sights, and taking picnics on the last days of summer.
“Washington’s Home” Mount Vernon, VA.
Categories
Forgetting
I fear the forgetting as much as being forgotten
Memories that slip away, intangible as a morning mist.
Faces that drift in and out with names that evade me.
And so, dear child. I write the most mundane things.
Your mercurial moods. Your sunshining smiles. Your stomachaches and heartbreaks.
That is how you’ll know I love you.
Hipstory 