Relaxing In Suburbia

It was a golden time after all.  The war was over, the United States had one of the few strong economies in the world, unions were strong, and wages were high.  There was even money to buy the kids a piano.  Too bad rock & roll got 'em.

Stamped on the back,  "ROLLMAN'S CAMERA SHOP APR 6  1954  SHILLINGTON, PA."   What a great name for a camera shop.  I'll bet there motto was buy a roll from Rollman's.  And, as of January 2012, Rollman's was still in business.  Of course my source for that info stated that Rollman's had been in business for 55 years.  Do the math, and that means that the store opened in 1957, so clearly my source has some problems.

Shillington is a small town, a borough actually, adjacent to Reading, Pennsylvania.  In the 1950s, Reading had a population of over 100,000, today it's under 90,000.  There was a community named Shillington as early as 1860, but it didn't incorporate until 1908.  And the first elected official, Burgess Adam Rollman.  It's probable that some descendant of Adam was the camera store Rollman.  The most famous Shillingtonian (?) was author John Updike.  Updike was the valedictorian of the Shillington High class of 1950,  so it's pretty probable that the young lady in this photo either knew him, or knew of him, before he was famous.

Greetings From North Bessemer

I gotta say, I've been to North Bessemer, Pennsylvania, and I wasn't impressed.

The message on the back, "Dear Helane,  I discovered you forgot cover but I thought I would send it home with Peurle on Sunday.  But I believe I will mail it to you at once.  Hershell was dissapointed he said I want my Helane to come back. We have a big circus in our town today.  Today I wish you could see it.  Grace"

Mailed to "Miss Helane Kohou, 935 Jerome St., McKeesport, Pa.  And the postmark, "UNITY STATION, PA  AUG 23, 3PM 1916"  I've also been to Unity Township, formally Unity Station, near Plum Township as well as McKeesport.  Again, not impressed.  The real question is how this postcard ended up in an antique shop in Pasadena, CA.  And finally, did Helane and Hershell ever get together?

The Famous Sunshine Benches of St. Petersburg

Florida, not Russia.  It's amazing how an old postcard can lead you into the depths of strange, useless trivia.  I went to Google and typed in sunshine benches, St. Petersburg, not really expecting much.  I figured this card was nothing more than an advertisement for a bank, First Federal Savings, painted on the one bench. Was I wrong.  St. Petersburg was once was known as the city of green benches.  Way back when, in the first decade of the twentieth century, a local real estate agent put a couple of green benches in front of his office.  They became so popular with passers by, that in 1916, the St. Pete city council decided to install benches all over the downtown business district, that they all had to be green, and they all had to be the same size.  Now I can't imagine that sitting on a bench, next to parked cars, in Florida, especially in the summer was a pleasant experience, but it seems my imagination is a bit faulty on this one.  But unforeseen problems do have a habit of rearing their ugly head.  It seems that the benches attracted the wrong sort of people.  No, not criminals.  Not drug dealers.  Not unruly teens, smoking and making rude comments to proper young ladies.  The benches attracted the elderly.  Old people sitting in the sun, not spending money.  Just imagine, old people in Florida!  In the early sixties, someone on the city council came up with the bright idea of painting the benches in pastels.  Surely orange, yellow, and pink benches would attract shoppers with money to spend.  Didn't work.  In 1967, by order of the city, all the benches were removed.  The old people did not go away.  And that is how civilizations fall.

The message on the back, "Feb 12th Hope you are feeling fine again from your opperation the 16th we are going over to visit the Pedricks.  I am having a nice time and feeling fine.  We are having a lot of rain. Love Aunt Irene."  Mailed to "Mr. & Mrs. B. J. March & Buddy, Road, Schwenksville, R.D. 2, Pa."  And the postmark, "PINELLAS PARK, FLA  FEB. 13, 1964"

Please Visit Me

 I've had a few problems with this postcard.  I'm  fairly certain that I've got the message right, but the names and address....let's just say that my handwriting is better and I've got lousy handwriting.

This card is postmarked, "FAYETTE CITY, PA 5 PM 1911"  It's addressed to "Miss Bella Kahoir (?) 935 Terrace (?) Str., McKeesport, Pa."  And the message, "Dear Sister, When is any one of you coming out to se me love all Moroi (?)"

For someone like me who grew up in coal country, western Pennsylvania, this is a fascinating card.  Fayette City is the sight of a legendary coal mining disaster.  On December 7, 1907, an explosion at the Naomi Mine killed 34 miners.  Fayette City was, and still is, a pretty small town.  Those 34 deaths pretty much wiped out the working age, male population of the community.  Perhaps Bella moved to McKeesport, a mill town on the Monogahela River, south of Pittsburgh after the disaster.  Perhaps Moroi had married a miner and moved to Fayette City. In either case, there's a good chance  that one of the sisters, possibly both, lost a husband, or father or brother in the mines.

When I was in high school, we had to take a course in Pennsylvania history.  I can remember spending a couple of weeks going over mill and mine disasters.  In 1907, most coal companies would have given the family of a dead miner a few hundred dollars, a months free rent in company owned housing and then that family would have been evicted and left to fend for itself.  If a young widow didn't find another husband or a job of her own it was starvation, homelessness or prostitution.

The lady on the card is Phyllis Dare, and English stage actress born in 1890, died 1975.  She was noted for her work in musicals.

Two Views of the Point

As anyone from Pittsburgh, PA can tell you, the point is where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers come together to form the Ohio River.  These two views of the point are quiet a few years apart.  The top image shows the original Point Bridge.  It opened in 1877, crossed the Monongahela and connected the south side with downtown.  In 1927, the second Point Bridge was built right beside the original, which was dismantled after it's replacement opened.  In 1959, it happened again, but this time the new bridge was named the Fort Pitt Bridge, which can be seen on the right of the second image.   The first and second bridges ended in an industrial area, but now, the point area is a state park.  The land was taken, using eminent domain, in the fifties, but the park wasn't completed until the point fountain was completed in 1974.

The top card is postmarked, "PITTSBURG, PA SEPT. 25  7:30 P.M. 1908" and addressed to Mrs. W. W. Van Cleve, 289 So-18th-St, Newark, N.J."  And yes, Pittsburg is correct.  For some odd reason, the "H" was dropped for a number of years from the city name.

The second card isn't a very good picture, it's damaged, and looks as if someone stepped on it.  I bought it because I really liked the message on the back.  "Hi Jim!  Arrived here Nov. 23, 1954 and have been enjoying this wonderful metropolis and it's inhabitants ever since. Maybe you'll come see me sometime.  I think I'm going to stay here for awhile.  Latter, Eileen."  It's addressed to "Jimmy Daschbach, 1315 Wood St., Pgh., PA 15221"  So, the Point State Park Fountain can be seen in the photo, so Eileen has been in the city for at least twenty years, and is sending a card to Jimmy, also living in Pittsburgh, like he's some sort of distant friend.  I've always thought that a middle aged Eileen was trying to set something up with Jimmy.  And now that I'm well into my fifties, I like the idea of a tryst between a couple of aging Pittsburghers.  It gives me hope.

Get Your Kicks on Route 99

Remember the good old days when driving across the country could take a month; when driving across the country meant local and state routes, not all of them paved; sleeping in tourist hotels, auto camps and eating at lunch counters? Neither do I. I was born in the 1950s and don't remember a world without multi lane, limited access highways. If you're willing to put in 16 hour days, it's possible to go from Atlantic to Pacific in three or four days. On the other hand, my first cross country trip took four months, and no interstate highways. Written on the back of the first photo, "Nov. 1942 Erie, Pa." There are some other words, but they've been inked out and are unreadable. On the second, "Dorothy Fischer Dot Fisher across 26th St. Erie, Pa." And my apologies to Bobby Troup.

Tales of Kittanning

I was born in Kittanning, way back in 1955. When I was growing up, the Armstrong County Court House was overseen by Judge J. Frank Graff, the hanging judge of his day. I haven't been able to confirm it, but when I was growing up, we were led to believe that Judge Graff had condemned more men and women to death then any other judge in American history. When I was in college, one of my classmates liked to hang out on the Allegheny River just a few miles north of Kittanning. A good place to smoke marijuana and get stoned. Or so he thought. I warned him that Armstrong County was not a place to break even minor laws. He thought that I was being silly. The worst that would happen for a minor, first time, marijuana bust would be probation. He got caught, and Judge J. Frank Graff sentenced him to a year in county jail. On the postcard, it's the squarish tower on the left. He served the full year, never returned to college. I don't know what happened to him after that.

Are You Ready For Some Football

I did not play high school football, and in smash-mouth football obsessed western Pennsylvania that was not a popular choice. Sissy was the politest name I was called and , well let's put it this way; I was hit as much for not playing as I would have if I had played. Of course, my high school didn't have a very good team so that didn't necessarily mean anything. My high school team lost every game for three straight years. We came close to a win in my junior year. We were playing our arch rival and managed to loose by only six points. 6-0 to be exact. In the last ten minutes of the game, our opponents managed a seventy yard march to victory. Sixty yards on penalties. Fifteen yards when one of our players left the Field on the wrong side. There he was, a lone white uniform in a sea of blue. And just so you know, I am a fan. Steelers in the Super Bowl. I guarantee it!

A Nineteenth Century Wedding

EBay can be an expensive way to collect old photos. Believe me, I've found that out the hard way. But, if you're willing to spend time scrolling through page after page of old photos, from time to time something interesting and affordable will come up. I hadn't really been looking for cabinet cards, but there they were. Nine, starting price of 99 cents, two bucks for shipping and not a single bid. Anyway, this was one of the ones I liked for a rather perverse reason. I'm a big believer that as photographic technique improved over the years, so did the subject's relationship to the camera. Stiff and formal was the standard, lively with a sense of movement a rarity. It took decades for the people being photographed to learn to relax and show some humanity. I'm fascinated that these people looked so stark on the big day. There is a studio mark embossed on the card, "D. A. Frommeyer -HANOVER, PA-" All I could dig up on Mr. Frommeyer is that he had a studio in Hanover from 1886 to 1911.

The Monongahela Incline

This is a bit of a companion piece to yesterdays post of the Homestead Steel Works, also along the Monongahela River. I was born and raised in a small coal mining town about fifty or so miles from downtown Pittsburgh. In the late fifties and sixties, that was close enough to be accessible but far enough away to be a special treat. Sadly, my father did not share my enthusiasm for Pittsburgh's trolleys, soon to be torn up and replaced by bus lines, and the incline railways to Mt. Washington on Pittsburgh's south side. After I made my inglorious exit from Penn State, (Who knew they were that sensitive about bounced tuition checks.), I moved to Pittsburgh and started taking the inclines up to Mt. Washington for no other reason than that I enjoyed the ride. The Mon Incline and the Duquesne Incline, less than a mile down river, where the two survivors of what once had been 17 funiculars along the Monongahela River Valley. The large building at the foot of the incline on the second card was the Pittsburgh & Lake Erie Railroad Terminal. It was pretty much a deserted hulk back then. I used to enjoy sitting in the quiet thinking about what it must have been like before passenger service ended on the south side. Eventually the preservation wing of the urban redevelopment movement got hold of the building. The passenger lobby became an upscale restaurant, and with my downscale income I found myself no longer welcome there. The old freight house became a shopping mall. Don't get me wrong, if that hadn't happened it would have been torn down, but really, how many Gaps can you visit? The Mon Incline was built in 1870. Today it's operated by Port Authority Transit, the public transit agency for Allegheny County. The Duquesne Incline is operated by a private foundation, and if I'm not getting them confused in my memory, the nicer of the two. Neither of these cards was used. On the back of both, "PUBLISHED BY I. ROBBINS & SON, PITTSBURGH, PA MADE IN U.S.A." I Robbins was in business from 1911 to 1943. Also, "PITTSBURGH PROMOTES PROGRESS" As well as the usual spot for stamps, and a not very interesting company logo. Go to Google, type in Monongahela Incline and then hit images. A lot of shots will come up, but be forewarned, a lot of them are of the Duquesne route.

Homestead In Music

The Homestead works has a central part in the history of western Pennsylvania. It was the sight of one of the countries largest steel mills and symbolic of the industrial might of the area. It was also the sight of a major strike that turned violent when Andrew Carnegie called in Pinkerton strikebreakers. Printed on the back, "MINSKY BROS. & CO., PUBLISHING DIVISION, PITTSBURGH, PA. "C.T. ART-COLORTONE" REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. MADE ONLY BY CURT TEICH & CO., INC., CHICAGO" Written on the back, "Dear Ernie & Jennie, Some swell fellows and girls here. Am having a good time. Made first chair (E Bass) Wish You Were Here. John K. Tilley" Addressed to "Ernie & Jennie Marks, Purse Ave. Walnut Grove, Johnstown, PA" Postmarked, "MUNICIPAL DEC. 11 8 A.M. 1937" Actually there is a flat sign between E and Bass, but my keyboard doesn't have that, so I had to leave it out. I found a John K, Tilley from Johnstown on line. May not be the same person, of course, but he was born on Dec., 24, 1918, he was a veteran of World War 2 and retired from the axle works of Bethlehem Steel, which might explain a musician sending a postcard featuring a steel mill.

Mauch Chunk

In 1953, the towns of Mauch Chunk and East Mauch Chunk merged, purchased the body of athlete Jim Thorpe from his widow, built a tomb, and changed their name to Jim Thorpe in hopes of attracting tourists. Before that, Mauch Chunk's claim to fame was it's gravity railroad. Built in 1827 to move coal 8.7 miles from the mines at Summit Hill to the coal chutes at Mauch Chunk, the railway used mules to haul the cars to the top of Pisgah Mountain and then used gravity to get back down the mountain. In 1846 a second track was laid and steam winches replaced mules for the uphill. It didn't take long for the coal company to realize that people were willing to pay to take the round trip on the gravity railroad. (The technology used by the gravity railroad is the same used by roller coasters.) The four hour ride to the top and the thirty minute downhill became a major American tourist attraction. Unfortunately, the route couldn't survive the great depression. Foreclosed, the only purchaser to show an interest was a scrapper who purchased the system, tore it up for the value of the rails. This card predates the divided back style that allowed for messages. It's addressed to "Miss Grace Book, No 58 fifth st., Bloomsburg, Pa." Postmarked, "MAUCH CHUNK 1905." The rest of the info is obscured. Printer, "H.C. Leighton Co., Portland, Me., Manufacturers of Postal Cards. Made in Germany. No 1130."

What Makes a Great Cabinet Card?

There are millions of cabinet cards out there, so why buy one over another? A great pose, interesting face, unique clothing or a particular skill on the part of the photographer are all great reasons to buy an image. Sometimes, as was the case with this card, it's the back. I saw all of the medals and assumed that photographer Dabbs was a multi award winner, but when I got home and looked at them with a lens, I was a bit surprised. Three are identical logos for The Pennsylvania State Agricultural Society, three are basically advertising marks, a couple of things in Latin that could be anything and one, and only one, award medallion. Well, I guess that means that false advertising is nothing new. It reminds me of the old story of how P.T. Barnum got people to move out of his venues. He put up big signs that said "This way to the Egress." Egress is just a fancy way of saying, this way out.

Cabinet Card-Two Children

Two little girls? Very likely, but not a sure thing. There was a custom among the upper classes of the nineteenth century of keeping little boys in dresses and long hair until they were three or four years old. Then it was knee pants, and not until a certain age, long trousers.

Clearfield Cabinet Card

When I first started collecting old photos, my main emphasis was on old. The older the better. While I still look for interesting cabinet cards, carte de visites, and tintypes, as well as more modern studio shots, press photos, and postcards, my focus has shifted to snapshots from the twentieth century. This is one of my first purchases. Clearfield, the county seat of Clearfield County is in central Pennsylvania, about a two hour drive from my home town. Nothing on the back of the card.

A Little Girl From Altoona

I'm in a cabinet card kind of mood. The cabinet card like the carte de visite was an early attempt to come up with a standardized format. Cabinet cards were approximately 4.25x6.5 inches. The back of this card was textured and I had to use the descreen setting on the scanner to get rid of the Newton rings. Altoona is a small city in west central Pennsylvania.

More of the Currie Boys

A friend of mine who had taken a couple of psychology courses and fancied herself a therapist once told me that my tendency to collect things was about a need to apply order to a chaotic life. Personally, I think I just like stuff. In any case, I started this blog to bring some order to a chaotic collection of old photographs, and in doing so, somehow or another these three shots of the Currie boys got separated from a couple of shots that were posted on 10/19/10. Written on the back of the balding Currie boy, "Thos. G. Currie, 323 Electric Av. E. Pittsburg, Pa. Return to Mrs. D. Currie, 323 Electric Av. E. Pittsburg, Pa." On the back of seated, civilian Currie, "Donald Currie." The E. Pittsburg is for East Pittsburg, along the Monongahela River. Probably from World War 1. Printed on postcard stock.

A Carte de Visite Album 3

Rather than taking a break and posting something from another source, just for a bit of variety, I think I'm going to go straight through and put this album up in four contiguous posts. As usual, if more than one photo is on a page, I'll put up the whole page to show position and then the individual image. I've also put up one of the damaged pages. Note that the back of one of the cards is visible, which gives an idea of how much of the background is lost when the carte de visite is inserted into the page. The first image of the bearded man, on the back of the card, "Schurch's PHOTOGRAPHIC STUDIO, Cor. Penn Avenue and Spruce Street, SCRANTON, PENNA." The man with the mustache, bow tie and the noticeable stains on the print, "E. P. Kellogg, Photographer, 279 MAIN STREET, HARTFORD, CONN."

A Carte de Visite Album 2

Continuing with the carte de visite album. Most of these either are in the album, back to back or have no studio identification. The two children with the hand colored sashes, "Coatsworth, Photographer, Opposite Wyoming House, Scranton." That's Scranton, Pennsylvania in the Wyoming river valley. And the final child, "R. D. PALMER, PHOTOGRAPHER And Portrait Painter, Huron Street, East of Cook's Hotel, Ann Arbor, Mich." In the first post from this album, I speculated that this family might have moved from Scranton to Sioux City, Iowa, but another explanation is an extended family with branches here and there around the country. Or at least the states that had been admitted by the end of the civil war. Click on the woman with the braids. Didi she make a necklace from her hair.