Category: Vintage

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Education family History Photographs Postcards Vintage Writing Prompt

The Enigma of Miss Laura Hanson’s Wintery 1909 Postcard

Miss Laura Hanson, 1909

Hello kid,

How do you like this wintery weather, I don’t like it one bit. I am in Atwater now just reddy to go home.

As ever —

By November of 1909, William Howard Taft was President, the NAACP had been founded, and the United States chose Pearl Harbor as a military site. The Progressive Era was in full swing with politics aimed at making life a little easier…for some.

Despite long remembered political events, everyday life continued to plod forward for the citizens of the country. Such is the case for Miss Laura Hanson and the mysterious sender of her postcard. The card indicates wintery weather — which I interpret to be early(ish) cold, ice, and snowfall.

Atwater is a small town in the middle south of Minnesota settled by Scandinavian and German emigrants. In 1909, it was a bustling railroad town, though it’s commerce also relied heavily on farming. By November, it would have been time to hunker down, warm up, and get through the cold. This attitude feels apparent in the card. On the weather, our sender indicates “I don’t like it one bit.” Perhaps that’s why they chose the colorful farming scene — to remind them of warmer times.

Since the sender didn’t sign a name, it’s impossible to know who they were or what their relation to Laura might have been. I did find a Laura Hanson born in a different city in Minnesota in 1896. It’s feasible that her family moved to Atwater after her birth. The timeline also fits, as this Laura would have been thirteen in 1909. The “Hello Kid” moniker feels appropriate for a younger family member. Perhaps the sender was an older cousin or family friend?

Though, I find it interesting that the card was *sent*, especially since the sender is in Atwater. The entire tone of the card is conversational and familiar, but there’s seemingly no meet-up planned. Was the sender a railroad worker only in for a night or two before leaving? Surely if the post could get to Laura, the sender could have gotten to Laura, unless of course they were working and had no time. It’s a bit of a mystery to me, because the sender is well known enough to leave off their name, but also is sending a card in lieu of a visit. Maybe it’s her father?

Is the Laura I found our Laura? Was she friends with the sender or family? I suppose we will never know. But, I can imagine her reading the postcard in the cold blue light of winter and wishing for spring to come again.

Front of Postcard

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Education History Photographs Postcards Teaching Vintage Writing Prompt

A Glimpse into Historical Transitions and a Serendipitous Find

To: Miss Anna Johnson. From: Harry. 1908

Wensday (misspelled but an attempt at correction),

Am having a good time. Will go over to Newark tomorrow evening. Was out to the park last night.

Harry

1908 is a year oft discussed on this blog. I tend to gravitate toward postcards that are turn of the 20th century, so I have a lot of 1907-1911 postcards (though I’d love some WWI and late 1800s postcards). As a reminder, Theodore Roosevelt was in his last year as president, the Model T was rolling off the production line, and the Wright brothers were demonstrating flight.

I’ve dropped us into history, now…on to the postcard.

Prior to 1907, senders of postcards were not allowed to write on the back, or address side, of the postcard. Therefore, any message they wanted to send had to go on the front of the postcard. During this period the space for writing was often limited and cramped. This is the “undivided back period.”

After 1907 we enter the “divided back period.” This is where we get the postcard format you’re probably most familiar with: a message and address on one side, a photo or some sort of artwork on the other.

This postcard is sort of a transition postcard. By 1908 it was legal for senders to write messages on the address side of the postcard, but clearly not all postcards were being made with a “divided back.” It’s sort of like when cars and horses and buggies all existed at the same time. Or cell phones and pagers. Or blackberries and Iphones. Or…have I aged myself?

Anyway, it’s fun to see a transition period piece like this. There’s a beautiful image of Gant Park in Zanesville, Ohio, but also a small space on the bottom that the sender can use to write a brief message — which Harry chose to do.

I was unable to confidently find Anna Johnson. There are a few contenders, but none I was positive was our Anna. However, it’s clear that Harry went to Gant Park. This is a piece of land in Zanesville that was created by Nelson T. Gant and though I couldn’t find Harry or Anna, Nelson is an interesting fellow.

Nelson Gant grew up enslaved on a tobacco plantation in Virginia. There he lived, and married, and eventually gained freedom in 1845 when his enslaver died. Unfortunately, his wife was enslaved by another family, so when Gant came to Ohio, he did so without his wife. Eventually, her purchased her out of enslavement in 1847. He’d later become a respected citizen of Zanesville, and provided the park as an integrated space for picnics, baseball, and even circuses.

Every postcard gives us a glimpse into the lives and thoughts of the senders and recipients. However, they also offer us historical bits of information that we’d never otherwise learn about. I wish I knew more about Harry’s visit. What was the park like when he was there? What were his thoughts? Why was he in Zanesville? But because his card survives I managed to learn about the remarkable life of an enslaved man turned underground railroad conductor who donated a place for everyone to come together. That, in itself, is remarkable.

Front of Postcard: Gant Park, Zanesville, Ohio

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Education family History Photographs Postcards Vintage Writing Prompt

“Dear Uncle Gust”: A Charming Glimpse of Innocence and Family Ties

To: Mr. August Fry. From: Donna. 1924

Blakeslee Ohio

May 3, 1924

Dear Uncle Gust,

How are you and Aunt Tillie? I like school very good. I like my teacher very well. I was very sick yesterday. I thought I would not to get to my first communion.

So good bye.

From,

Donna

In the United States, the 20’s were a relatively prosperous time. World War I was over, our production was booming. Movie stars graced the silver screen, roads began to stretch across America, and shopping became an experience. On May 4, 1924, the Summer Olympics opened in Paris — a fun coincidence since the games have returned to Paris 100 years later.

At the time that Donna wrote her card to “Uncle Gust,” Calvin Coolidge was president, Adolf Hitler had begun his jail term for the Beer Hall Putsch (he would serve 9 months), and the Soviet Union was in the process of becoming recognized as a nation. Though things were looking bright, there were ominous signs on the horizon.

But, not for little Donna, eight years old and living in Blakeslee, Ohio. For her, the glittering lights and industry hadn’t reached Blakeslee, Ohio, a small village of primarily German and French immigrants in the Northwest corner of Ohio. Currently, it houses some 100 odd people. In 1924, it was much the same, though it grew because of the railroad that went through town.

There’s something perfectly sweet about this postcard. Here we have a young niece not far from her uncle (roughly ten miles), but still far enough that a postcard is warranted. Further more, she calls him “Uncle Gust” which is adorable. AND, she has an Aunt Tillie? Fantastic. This postcard holds all the innocence of childhood: school, sickness, fear of missing something important, stilted, yet careful writing. It conjures an image of a little girl sitting in her room carefully and dutifully writing out the postcard, perhaps with her tongue sticking out of her mouth, maybe by candlelight. Even in the 30’s most rural spaces had yet to be strung up with electricity.

I’ve also had quite a stroke of luck in researching our sender and recipient. I found August AND Tillie Fry (or at least their graves). According to find a grave, August was a veteran of World War I, and raised dairy cows on a farm in Montpellier, Ohio. In 1924, he was 35 years old and Tilli 34. According to their find a grave, the two were married in 1922 and went by “Gust and Tilli.” There are pictures on the website, and they look like a beautiful couple.

And I even found Donna! This is a first for me, as I’ve never been able to find everyone listed on a postcard, however after some digging through the family tree, I found our postcard writer. She was blood related to Tillie. Her mother, Viola Elizabeth Walley Wherle, was Tillie’s older sister. Donna was an only child, and raised on a farm in Blakeslee. Donna grew up to have two children and was beautiful. I’ve linked her information a few times, but if you are interested, you can do a deep dive on her family tree here.

It’s so rewarding when I’m able to find a bit of information about my senders. I feel so privileged to be the custodian of Donnas hopes, worries, and childish scrawl, and I know I will continue to think of her writing a postcard to her Uncle Gust and Aunt Tillie.

Front of Postcard. A beautiful watercolor.

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Education History Photographs Postcards Teaching Vintage Writing Prompt

“You can’t get away from the fools”: Dust Bowl, Outlaws, and Dunderberg Peak

To: Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Peck. From: George, 1934

Dear Gertrude and Edgar,

Here we are up in a higher mountain range than ours. There are a great many little lakes in the neighborhood that are said to have fish but we have had no luck, people everywhere. You cant get away from the fools. I expect to be home in about one week, but am not sure yet. We are having the wonderlus(?) good time.

Goodbye,

George

The summer of 1934 saw one of the worst droughts in history of the United States. All I need say is “dust bowl” to conjure up images of what life was like for those living in the midwest. “Black blizzards” reared up, their effects deadly for those in the dustbowl states, but thier dust also reached as far as Chicago and New York.

On May 23 of 1934, Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were killed on a highway in Louisiana. In June, John Dillinger was considered public enemy number one, and Adolf Hitler used his political power to murder opponents in the “Night of the Long Knives.” In the wake of all this, at least prohibition was over and people could drink about their worries.

In the midst of Depression Era trials and tribulations, it’s difficult to imagine people going on vacation. From the time we learn about the Depression we are inundated with pictures of great sadness and poverty. We don’t typically think of fresh mountain air and crisp lakes teeming with people. Yet, this postcard provides a snippet of what living life was like in 1934.

Dunderberg Peak is situated in the Sierra Nevadas on the border of California and Nevada. Google Maps says it’s roughly 61/2 hours from Los Angeles. Obviously, it’s unclear whether George and his companions drove, took a train, or both. However, I suspect it was still quite the trip for them. What’s interesting to me is that he wasn’t sure when he was returning, exactly. Is this because he was out of a job? Was it a summer vacation? It’s strange in today’s over scheduled era to have the flexibility to return in “about” a week.

Additionally, how many times have you heard recently that something is simply “too” crowded? I feel like I hear it all the time. In the social media era where places and experiences go viral everyday, it feels like all the “good” places are inundated with “fools you can’t get away from.” Yet, here is a card sent in the middle of the Depression that’s got the same gripe as so many of us. Like I say all the time, our lives are so similar to those who have come before us. It never ceases to amaze me.

I wasn’t able to easily find Gertrude or Edgar Peck, though I’m short on time so I admittedly didn’t look super hard. However, it’s nice to know that George’s marvel at the beautiful nature that surrounded him, as well as his annoyance at crowds, will echo across history and remind us that we are all connected.

Front of Postcard

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Education family Photographs Postcards Teaching Vintage Writing Prompt

1951 Split Rock Lodge Vacation: A Glorious Retreat

To: Mr. and Mrs. Harry Gilwar(?). From: Selena and Harry, 1951

Dear Harry,

Split Rock Lodge is a glorious place. You ought to try it for a vacation. How are all five(?).

Lots of love,

Selena and Henry

In 1951, the United States was embroiled in the, perhaps lesser ‘known,’ Korean War. Which, of course is an extension of the Cold War. Harry Truman was President, and the world had officially entered into the nuclear age. On March 29, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg were convicted of espionage, The King and I opened on Broadway, and All About Eve won best motion picture at the Academy Awards.

In July, 4,000 whites in Cicero, Illinois attacked an apartment building because it housed a single black family, sparking the Cicero Race Riot. July also sees the release of Salinger’s A Catcher in the Rye, as well as Disney’s Alice in Wonderland.

So when Henry and Selena took their vacation to Split Rock in August of 1951 the writhing ferment of change was coming to the United States, but it was creeping slowly, and wasn’t here quite yet. At least not for people who had the privilege of going to the Poconos on vacation. For them, it was likely a peaceful retreat from the tumult of the late 40’s.

Split Rock Lodge is settled in the Poconos mountains in Pennsylvania. Built in 1941, it was opened as a vacation destination in 1946. Though the original lodge burned down in a fire in the 1970’s, it was rebuilt and remains as a vacation destination for families. However, it must have been grand in the 50’s. Brand new construction, hiking trails to explore, fresh, crisp air. It’s no wonder Henry called it a “glorious place.”

By the 1950’s most postcards transition from imparting critical family information to displaying the trappings of luxury. In a world where social media didn’t exist, how could people show off their glorious vacations to their friends? POSTCARDS! And that’s exactly what Selena and Henry are doing. Showing off. I don’t blame them, I post pictures of my vacations on social media, too.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find Mr. and Mrs. Harry Gilwar(?). I suspect it’s because I’m not entirely sure of the last name. It’s too bad, especially because it’s recent enough that I thought I’d get an obituary and maybe some pictures. Ah well, that’s the way it works sometimes.

On the back of the postcard you can see that it’s a “genuine photo” postcard. I don’t know enough about real photo postcards to know if this is a reproduction, or if it’s an actual picture of Henry. However, people did have the option of turning their pictures into postcards and sending them in the mail (sort of like our Christmas cards from Costco ahahha). I like to think that this image is our friend Henry staring at us from the past and urging us to get outdoors and try Split Rock as a vacation. I’m sure it will be glorious.

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family History Photographs Postcards Vintage writing

“My Dear Boy”: A Desperate Message from a Loving Mama

To Mr. Walter Meyers. Date Unknown

May 2: My dear boy Walter,

Well I was at the ranch and am back again after firing me. They hired another woman and I have lost out all around so I am out of work and out of money. How do you like your place?

Your loving mama

Because there’s not a postmark on this card it’s impossible to know when it was sent/delivered to Walter Meyers. My instinct tells me it’s somewhere between 1900 and 1915, though it could be into the early 1920’s. The publisher, Edward H Mitchell, was active between 1898 and 1920.

Additionally, in my experience, earlier dated postcards typically conveyed family information like illness, hardships, celebrations, or moves. However, as the ability to communicate over longer distances became easier, later dated postcards typically discuss vacations and trips. Of course, this is not always the case, but it’s something I’ve noticed.

I also tend to think that this postcard originated (and ended) in Northern California, though I suppose our “loving mama” could have been in Southern or Central California (based on the fact that she’d been on a ranch of some sort). At the turn of the 20th century, much of California was agricultural and relied on migrant workers for labor. Frankly, this is still the case. I have a feeling this mother and son lived and worked in different areas of Northern California. Especially since the postcard was printed in San Francisco.

That leads me to the message and picture of the card itself. The desolation of a dark, lonely lake only illuminated by a high moon seems to fit the desperate message of the card: “I am out of work and out of money”. Yet, something about the card makes me uncomfortable, and I can’t place why. Is it simply because the mother is in need. Is the reverberation of her fear for the future imbedded into the fading pencil marks? Or is it something else?

Our loving mama doesn’t outright as her son for money, but she makes it clear she has none. She ends the message with a question of how he likes “his place.” She’s likely referring to his job, here. Is she trying to get hired? Is she reaching out to her child only as an act of self preservation? My mind reels with questions. All parent-child relationships are complicated, but still I can’t help wondering how close these two were, and whether her son was happy or disappointed to hear from her. The overall message itself feels…cold. Desperate, yes, but also seems to lack true affection.

Perhaps I’m being unfair. In fact, I’m probably being unfair. Especially since without a date and place it’s difficult to search for Walter or the “C/O John Vaugh”. I hope that our loving mama got her job and money situation sorted, and I do hope that she and her son were able to have a sweet reunion. How and why this card was kept, we won’t ever know. But, now it exists as a testament to the hardships of life and family.

Front of Postcard

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Education History Photographs Postcards Teaching Vintage Writing Prompt

Mystery of Miss Bessie Harkness: Unraveling the Threads of a 1905 Postcard

Miss Bessie Harkness, 1905

Miss Bessie Harkness

Durand, Wis

C/O Mr. Will Alkire

In 1905, the great Progressive Era president, Theodore Roosevelt, had just completed his first full term. This after having become president because of the assassination of President William Mckinley. The Progressive Era had begun, but the Gilded Age was hanging on with it’s perfectly manicured nails. 1905 also saw the “greatest ball” of the Gilded Age — a Versailles themed spectacular that later *almost* caused a panic on Wall Street.

The rich will always be rich, but 1905 was the beginning of the end for monopolies after the Supreme Court ruling Swift and Co v the United States allowed the federal government to regulate monopolies. Though we were “advancing” in some areas, we were falling behind in others. Three days before the Supreme Court ruling, the Nelson Act was signed into law, allowing segregation in the schools of the territory of Alaska.

I’ve noted before that the practice of sending postcards began in 1870, however the years of 1901-1907 are considered the “Post Card Period”. This is simply the transition from “Private Mailing Card” to “Post Card”. This particular period is noteworthy for the the fact that the back was exclusively reserved for the address — nothing else. If anything was to be written, it would be done on the front of the card.

This post card is unique for it’s scrawled address in childish script, as though each cursive letter was well thought out and formed when addressing the card. The sender also continued the last name down the side of the card, as they ran out of space on the line — another indication that the sender was young.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing printed on the front of this card, so the sender’s name is lost to time. Emulating Alice, I went down a rabbit hole in searching for Bessie Harkness — and I believe that my search was well rewarded. There was a Bessie Harkness that lived in Durand, Wisconsin. In 1905 she would have been about 17. Public records indicate that she attended the University of Wisconsin and by 1919, had become a high school teacher. Unfortunately, if this is our Bessie, she died in 1930, a mere 42 years old.

It’s rare to find this much information on a person from one of my postcards, and I’m reasonably sure I’ve found the right woman. However, I do wonder who sent her the postcard. She had a brother, but he was older. The handwriting indicates someone young, I’d guess somewhere between 10-14 (though in my gut I think the sender was probably 12/13).

The card is also sent in care of Will Alkire, another well respected Durand resident. It seems Will married in 1885 and had one daughter — Anna Belle. It’s feasible that Anna Belle and Bessie were friends, and either Anna was the sender of the postcard (in care of her father), OR, Bessie was staying with Anna for the winter break. I tend to think Anna Belle was not the sender, simply because the handwriting is so young. But, I suppose she could have been four or five years younger. It’s also feasible Bessie was some sort of tutor or mentor to her (given her later job title).

Either way, for a post card that provides nothing more than a beautiful picture of a Maine lighthouse and a name of the recipient, I managed to find a lot of information. Further, given the fact that Bessie died in 1930, I’m impressed this post card survived. I wonder who saved it, why, and how it ended up in a thrift shop nearly 120 years after it was initially sent.

What a beautiful find.

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Education History Photographs Postcards Teaching Vintage Writing Prompt

“A Chilly Morn”, 1908: A Glimpse into Small Town Life

To: Miss Dena Berends(?) from Srona K(?). 1908

Dear Cousin,

I received your card a quite a while ago and think it is just beautiful. How are all the folks. We are all well so far. Got a letter from Katie S this morning and got a postal from Cousin Clara Friday. Must close. Bye always.

Sincerely,

Srona K

I’m not sure why, but 1908-1910 are some of my favorite years to collect postcards. I think because the modern world that we know was just beginning to emerge, and people lived life without the shadow of two world wars hanging over their head. That being said, I’ve already dropped 1908 into history on previous blogs, but in case you missed it, I’ll give a quick run down.

The year 1908 was a leap year. Teddy Roosevelt was president. Robert Peary began his attempt to reach the North Pole, Henry Ford rolled out the Model T, and the Chicago Cubs won the World Series. These are the “good” things.

August of 1908 also saw the Springfield Massacre; an event in Illinois where a white mob of 5,000 attacked a Black community by burning down homes and businesses, eliciting violence, and lynched or shot eight people, including an 84 year old man who’s only crime was his 30 year marriage to a white woman. This massacre resulted in the displacement of 2,000 Black men and women, and was the “catalyst” of creating the NAACP.

I’m sure the writer and recipient of this postcard knew a little something about the events playing out on the national stage, however I also have to assume that their lives were fairly isolated, especially since I believe them both to be 20 or younger (based on handwriting and marriage status).

Lake Park, Iowa is still a small, rural community situated near Silver Lake and sitting on the edge of the Iowa and Minnesota border. There was a school, banks, lodges and farms, and in 1900 the population was around 540. We can assume that by 1908 it had grown, but probably only by a hundred or two people.

Harris Iowa is only about 7 miles to the west of Lake Park, so fairly close. The cousins likely had opportunities to see one another, but they fact they sent postcards and letters indicates a strong familial bond. The names on the postcard are also a mystery to me. I’m fairly certain the recipient is “Dena” but I can’t quite make out the last name. Further more, our sender looks to be Srona, though perhaps it could be Serena or even Nona. It’s one of those mysteries that haunt me and over time I hope to be a better reader of these names.

I love the front of this postcard, as it’s one of my most interesting. It’s an imbedded picture of two men on a body of water. One is in a boat with his hands on a long rope that continues off frame, and one is standing in the water. Both face away from the camera, their eyes set on the body of water in front of them and perhaps their mind already preparing themselves for the day ahead. Titled “A Chilly Morn” it’s a beautiful photograph. One filled with longing and quiet solicitude.

You can see from both the front and the back that the photo has been embedded into the postcard. This is a printed postcard (as you can see on the back) and therefore not a “real photo” postcard created by the sender. However, the indentation patterns are unique, and I can’t seem to find anything quite like it on the glorious world wide web. If you have more knowledge of postcards than I do, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

I hope the cousins remained friends and sent beautiful postcards for the remainder of their lives.

“A Chilly Morn” Front of postcard.

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The Summer of 1948: Olympics, Cold War, and a Health Crisis

To: Mrs. Lydia Mandel. From: Marion 1948

Sammy, has been very ill but is coming along O.K. Gall stone attack.

Marion

*Alternatively, it could say “Sorry have been very ill”, however the following “but is coming along O.K.” changes tense and thus feels incongruous. Therefore, my best guess is that the first word is a name (Sammy, or perhaps Avery).

This may be one of the “later” cards I’ve blogged about, though it’s certainly not the oldest in my collection. However, it was serendipity that I chose this card today.

On July 29, 1948, the Summer Olympics opened in London. This was the first Summer Olympics held since the 1936 games held in Berlin. The fact that the games were held, and in London of all places, indicates that nations were beginning to heal after the devastation of World War II.

Despite the world uniting in sportsmanship, tensions between the United States and Russia were heating up. On July 22, President Truman issued a peacetime draft, and ten communist leaders were arrested under the Alien Registration Act. In fact, the second Red Scare had begun

It’s amidst these conflicting events (sportsmanship and fear mongering) that Sammy (or Avery, or Marion) had a gall attack. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever had a gall attack, but if you haven’t — they are awful. I call them the “stabbies” because it’s like a sharp pain entering the space just above your stomach. Nothing helps but time. I’m lucky enough that I’ve only had two or three in my lifetime. I also have the benefit of modern medicine if they get too bad. In 1948, there’s not much to do but wait, and I imagine that time probably crept by at a snail’s pace for the poor patient.

I have no evidence of this, but I imagine that Sammy is a child, Marion the mother, and Lydia the grandmother…or perhaps sister to Marion. Again, there’s nothing that indicates any sort of relationship barring the existing postcard, but in my mind…it’s a multi-generational connection.

I did find a “Lydia Mandel”, who was a Russian artist. However, everything I see indicates she was active in France, so I find it difficult to believe thats our Lydia. The address on the postcard still exists — it’s a quaint apartment in the Bronx. For us, Sammy and Marion and Lydia’s story must therefore end with this card. However, the fifties hadn’t yet begun, and the sixties were a decade away. The coming decades were a time of great inner change and turmoil in the United States.

I guess it was sort of like a gall stone attack in that respect.

Front of Postcard: “Old St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, built 1707, Wickford R.I.

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Education family History Photographs Postcards Vintage Writing Prompt

1941 Postcard from Arnie and Fred to Mrs. G.R. Turner: A Relic of Love

To Mrs. G.R. Turner, From Arnie, Fred (?). 1941

Dear Grandma T.

We are having a fine trip. Visited Purdue yesterday and Indiana University. Saw Dick for a few minutes. These gardens are very beautiful. This is just 1 part.

With love,

Arnie, Fred(?)

I didn’t mean to choose two postcards in a row that corresponded with the escalation of World War II, but here we are. By September of 1941, the United States was months away from entering the war. We were embroiled in the Battle of the Atlantic, and FDR had essentially declared a naval war against Germany and Italy.

With war building, I often wonder if the world felt off kilter, and time together was shadowed with the prospect of destruction. Or, did everyday life continue with the hopes that Americans would remain unscathed? I’m sure it must have been a little of both, but with war coming, Arnie and Fred*, and their family, maintained a sense of normalcy by visiting colleges.

I find many things about this postcard appealing. The curving letters and even script, the thicker parts of letters where the ink bled a little longer. However, what’s precious about this postcard is the deep bond between grandma and grandchildren. Not only did Grandma T’s grandchildren think to drop her a line, they likely took time picking out a postcard to send her. It meant enough to Grandma T that it’s managed to survive the last 83 years. This is one reason postcards feel so amazing to me. They are often relics of love.

As an aside, Purdue and Indiana University are not close to the Missouri Botanical Gardens, nor are they very close to each other. The family must have been on a road trip through the midwest, perhaps with the intention of visiting various colleges and landmarks along the way. It makes me wonder if the grandchildren sent Grandma T more postcards, and if any of those survived.

*very unclear on the names. Checked with four different people and each person had a different response to the names. Feel free to chime in.

Front of Postcard: Missouri Botanical Gardens