Hi Folks,
We are vacationing here for a week — high up in the Catskill Mountains. Place is charming and expect to have some good rest so we can go back to working hard at filling(?) up our “home sweet home”. Food is so good it will show on me when we return. How was your vacation?
Do Write,
Elsie and Chad(?)
To: Mrs. Elsie Murphy. From: Jan, 1950
June 25, 1950
Dearest Honey,
I spose you know by now that I’m in Lancaster for a few days. I left Fri. on the 4 o’clock Zephyr. I leave just as you get home! How do you like that (ha). I’ve got a surprise for you when I get home. Did Dee call you? Or did you call the store? Bet you had fun at Cletek!(?) I got some sandals in Prairie du Chien. I’ll see you Wed. You probably won’t get this till after I’m home! did you go to the prom?
Love,
Jan
P.S. I got my phone call.
In 1950, World War II still loomed large in the proverbial rear view mirror of the United States. Harry Truman was President, the Korean War was just beginning, Joseph McCarthy — a Senator from Wisconsin — believed that Communists were everywhere, and Albert Einstein warned that nuclear war would lead to mutual destruction. It was somehow both a time of great change and stagnation. Technology was advancing at a frenzied pace, but Americans were frightened of the monsters they so eagerly created and sought ultimate control.
When I read this postcard I was positive it was a letter from a husband to a wife. From the salutation (Dearest Honey) to the squished signature — which I thought was “Jon”. At first glance, it was innocuous. A man sharing somewhat mundane stories and promising a surprise.
But under close examination the signature I thought read “Jon” was in fact “Jan.” Things clicked for me after that. The tone of the card is what I would call “gushing“. There’s a tumbling array of thoughts spilled out over the white space of the card as though Jan had so many things to tell Elsie that she needed to make sure to spill a little tidbit of everything while frustratingly sparing all the details.
Once I ascertained that the card was from Jan, I started looking for Elsie. I found quite a few Elsie Murphy’s floating around. There was even a promising obituary of an Elsie Murphy with a daughter named Dee, but she lived her whole life in Maine — so couldn’t be our Elsie. Finally, I decided to try Elsie’s name and address, and immediately got a hit on a newspaper article from the Library of Congress. It states:
Shown receiving the Bronze Star Medal awarded to her husband, Cpl Robert V. Murphy, is Mrs. Elsie E.Murphy, 1209 South Cedar Lake Road.
This is, unquestionably, our Elsie. This record is amazing for a variety of reasons, not least of which is that it includes an image of Elsie as she probably looked around the time she received the postcard. A little bit more digging uncovered the 1950 census reports from Minneapolis. It seems after her husband passed away, or perhaps even while he had been in war, Elsie lived with her parents in the Cedar Lake Road house. In 1950, she was listed as 31, widowed, and working full time as a typist at a publishing company.
Now that I had Elsie and her husband’s name, I started searching for him. It seems Robert V. Murphy was killed in action in Germany during WWII. He was born in North Dakota and only went to Minneapolis in May of 1942. Did he meet Elsie there? How long did they have together before he deployed? Like so many other young couples, did they have a heated romance and marry quickly because of the threat of war?
And who was Jan? A friend Elsie met at her job as a typist? A school friend? A cousin? What was the surprise Jan had for Elsie? What was Jan’s phone call? Had she gotten a job, a date, a scholarship? We won’t ever know, because without a last name I couldn’t find Jan.
The story is fascinating, and even though I found Elsie, I simply couldn’t find much more about her, including her grave or obituary. This tells me she likely remarried and was not buried under the Murphy name. I have to wonder how she managed to press on in her grief. Especially because Robert’s body was never recovered. She’d become a blushing bride only to become a grief stricken widow. I know I’ll be thinking about Elsie, her life after the war, and Jan’s sandals for a long time to come.
“Grant County Court House” Lancaster, Wisconsin
Mrs. William Kerchner: 1943
Pvt. Charles P. Kerchner
Dear Parents:
How are you all. I am O.K. and hope you are the same.
A simple message scrawled quickly in pen on the back of a beautiful postcard opens a door for us to understand a little more about postcard history, as well as World War II history.
When I began this project I knew nothing about the history of postcards in the United States or abroad. I’m still lacking in my historical knowledge, but I’m also learning with each post I create. One simple piece of information I’ve recently stumbled upon are the different “eras” of postcards.
By roughly 1930, “linen” type postcards had begun to circulate. These postcards have a different look and texture than the early 1900’s postcards. In fact, it may suprise you to find out that they look like they are printed on linen (shocking I know). The colors on these postcards also tend to be more vibrant and saturated. This postcard is no different. While the back is somewhat nondescript and not quite as pretty as some of the earlier postcards in my collection, the front is so beautiful it could be framed as a watercolor painting.
I assumed the “free” written in the stamp section had something to do with the fact that this is a soldier sending a postcard home to his family. A brief google search revealed that by World War II, if the soldier wrote his outfit and camp (along with the word “free” in the stamp box), then the postage was comped for him.
Another notable aspect of this postcard is the stamped “GIVE: Red Cross War Fund.” I have a few of these from postcards sent during WWII, but I find them fascinating reminders of a different time.
This is also the first postcard where I feel confident I’ve found some information on the original sender. Private Charles P. Kerchner survived the war, married, raised a family, and died in 2008 at the age of 87.
A lovely piece of history from a bygone era.
Front of postcard. Note the blues and yellows and pinks that serve as the masquerade of a sunset.
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.
Old St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
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.
To: Mr. Scott R. Galbreath From: Robt. (Robert) 1945
Dear Scott —
Hope all the family are ok by now and especially Exa. Scott will you try to get me a set of those 5¢ stamps recently issued on the different nations of the Allied Nations. Mgt (Margaret?) is supposed to do it, but I’m afraid she has slipped up. Also any other recent stamps, just 1¢ mint and send them to Mgt and I’m telling her to send you whatever they cost. I’m trying to get some nice ones here for both of us.
Best Regards,
Robt. (Robert)
I talked about it in a recent post, but in March of 1945, WWII was on it’s way towards being over. Allied troops were pushing Germany ever inward. FDR would be president for just over 30 more days, Americans launched the Battle of Iwo Jima in the Pacific Theater, and the Academy Awards were broadcast over radio for the first time. I don’t know why, but it always seems so strange to have something as incongruous as WWII and Academy Awards happening at the same time. As we know, the world rarely stops moving for big events (except Covid!), but still, it’s strange to see something as normal as the Academy Awards next to the Battle of Iwo Jima.
This particular postcard is super interesting, first because it’s postmarked from the Canal Zone (as in Panama Canal). Second, you can’t tell, but the postcard has a sort of metallic sheen to it. I’m unsure if it’s from age or if it was always the nature of the card, but it’s super cool to see in the light. I’ll try and capture it on video and post it to my Instagram account if you’re interested.
Through 1945 (and beyond) the Canal Zone was also deeply segregated by race. The “Gold” roll workers were almost all white US citizens, while “Silver” roll workers were non-white, non-US workers. The titles “gold” and “silver” stems from an earlier practice of literally paying white Americans in gold and non-white, non-Americans in silver.
Interestingly, the Canal Zone also issued their own stamps until 1978. The stamp is on the card, and not super obscured, but I’ve added a picture of it at the bottom as well. Even though the zone had their own stamps, that sort of mundane existence may be exactly what Robert chafed against — hence his request for various other stamps from his friend Scott. Poor Margaret, I wonder what she did to muck up his stamp order so poorly.
And what of Robert and Scott? Surprisingly, I found Scott immediately, largely because the name of his wife is so unique. Though, I’ll admit I thought it was Eva at first. Scott Robert Galbreath Jr. was born in Paris, Texas on September 13, 1908. In 1945, he would have been 36 years old. He lived with his wife, Exa, and his daughter Ammie, who was 7 in the census of 1940. From what I can tell, he was a manager at an insurance company. At least that’s how the census listed him in both 1930 and 1940. I even managed to find Exa in the record, though obscured by her husbands name, attending a silver tea for charity.
Although Family Search does not list any children, I did find his daughter, Ammie’s, obituary, which indicates that Scott had at least one son…yep…you guessed it…Scott Galbreath III. It’s always very rewarding when I’m able to track down snippets of a life from a postcard.
Robert and Margaret, however, remain a mystery. I had hoped that one of them was related to either Scott or Exa, and perhaps they were indirectly related (cousins or something), but they were not direct brothers or sisters of either one of the Galbreath’s. Though, judging by Scotts photo (on Find a Grave), I have to believe that he got poor Robert the Allied Nations stamps he so desired. I hope Robert enjoyed the heck out of them.
Front of Postcard, featuring the Administration Building of the Canal Zone
To: Miss Isabell Cox From: Pittsburg Press 1907
Take my advice — Stop the Saturday Evening Post and take the Pittsburg Press
When I first scanned this card into my digital collection, I didn’t take much notice of it other than the postmark. It had come to me as part of a bulk lot, and I was new to collecting. The card looked old, and it felt old, and the postmark confirmed that it WAS old, and that was all I needed. So I scanned it in.
Only once I really started to create this blog did I realize what I had.
Junk mail. I have 117 year old junk mail. This junk mail is almost as old as Edward Cullen. Now, if this were an actual connection, of course this would be so super cool. But junk mail? It’s a little disheartening to know that people were getting non-desired mailers even during the undivided back period. Though something about it does feel so…human?
For a western town, Greeley, Colorado was quite up and coming. Originally founded as an “agricultural utopia” based on farming, temperance, and religion, the town seemed always on the forefront of modernity. Telephones were installed as early as 1883 and electric lights graced the Greeley downtown by 1886. It’s fitting, therefore, that the residents were interested in the Saturday Post, since it truly was the bees knees. It’s just as fitting that the Pittsburgh Press was trying to get a hold on the burgeoning town.
And what of Isabell Cox? First, I suspect the name was misspelled (does nothing change?), though it could be Isabella Cox, I suppose. I thought for sure I’d be able to find some semblance of her, but of course the archival Gods laughed at my certainty and left me stumped. In the end, there were a few good options. One Isabella Cox who was living in Colorado, but moved to New York by 1910, and an Isabel Cox who lived in the correct city…but was 4 in 1907.
I’d like to think this was sent to the 4 year old. Because of course it was. We’ve all received random junk mail for our children, and it seems that the turn of the 20th century was no different than the new millennia. Proof that times change, methodologies change…but capitalism never changes.
Undivided back, addressed to Miss Isabell Cox
To: Mrs. S.G. Zoeger From: K.B 1945
I hope you had a good time while away.
K.B.
May 8, 1945 was a momentous day for the Western World. In the lead up to this day, we were nearing the end of the storm that was World War II. With the knowledge that allied forces were advancing on Germany, Adolf Hitler took his life and effectively ruined any hail mary on Germany’s part. And, on May 8, 1945, the Allies accepted Germany’s unconditional surrender.
This was Victory in Europe day.
Which is likely why the date was added posthumously, perhaps by Mrs. Zoegler herself. As historical dates often do, when we wake up and go about our lives, we don’t imagine that particular day will become important. But, of course, some days are filled with significance, and this was one of those days.
After hitting such a jackpot yesterday, I decided to choose a card that I’d been holding off on, particularly because I had the feeling that the research would be difficult. Not only is this card not postmarked or addressed, but the two people involved are obscured beneath their initials. However, we still have the clue of the card itself: an image of the City Investing Building in New York City, so that’s where I started.
Surprisingly, I found a few Zoegers. One family in Illinois even seemed promising, though not promising enough for me to be confident in telling their story. Alas, we will never know about the trip they took, or who K.B. may have been. My instinct tells me that K.B. may have been a neighbor who dropped a card into a mailbox when they saw their neighbors were back. From what trip? We won’t know.
But, perhaps that’s not the story this postcard is supposed to tell. Maybe, this card is to remind us that eventful days are just like all the others. They stream in and out of our lives like spider silk. It’s only once we step back for a moment that we can see the huge web of significance that tells our own stories.
Front of Postcard: Image of the City Investing Building
To: Mr. Jim Henry From: Private Shorty Martin, 1942
Taken in the big city of Chicago. We would like to have sleepy here. I am having the time of my life with all the trimmings. Just got here, budies are waiting , tell all hello, will see you all later.
Pvt. Shorty Martin
By November of 1942, the United States had entered into World War II with fists swinging. Although the US had instituted a peacetime draft in 1940 — which required all able bodied men ages 18-45 to register, many of the enlistees were volunteers. Chicago, a city bustling with industry, was a vital crossroads for war preparation.
Not only was Chicago a major industrial city, producing parachutes, bombs, metal sheeting, and airplane engines (among many other things), but was also within easy reach of various military training facilities like Fort Sheridan, Glenview Naval Air Station, and Great Lakes Naval Training Station. It’s no wonder, then that Pvt. Shorty Martin tripped the light fantastic in the bustling streets of Chicago.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find Jim or Shorty. There were a few decent contenders, but none that I could link to Waco definitively. Though, there were more than two “Shorty’s” running around Texas before and after the war. Although I couldn’t find our sender or recipient, it’s fairly easy to imagine a young soldier experiencing a big city for the (maybe) first time in his life.
I do love that he’s meeting up with some of his buddies. I wonder if these are military friends, or simply connections he has in Chicago. It’s feasible that Shorty was African American. As industrialization boomed in the United States — and racism spread after the fall of Reconstruction — Black men and women left the south in waves and traveled north, many of them landing in cities like Chicago. Perhaps Shorty had friends or connections already who had made the move?
I also puzzled over the “would like to have sleepy here.” I couldn’t figure out if he wanted to spend the night, but couldn’t, or if it was a misspelled word (or a mistake in transcription). But, after a minute, I came to the conclusion that I think “sleepy” is a person. He would have “liked to have sleepy here” seems like it’s too bad another friend couldn’t join. I assume Jim knew who sleepy was but nothing is certain in the postcard game.
The card itself is a linen postcard published by Curteich with a vibrant and stunning image of the Chicago skyline. While the scan did bring out many of the colors — it’s even prettier in person.
I do hope Shorty had a fabulous time exploring Chicago. Cheers to him and Jim.
Curteich Postcard: Michigan Avenue North from River, Chicago
Hipstory 
