More From the Brewers

More from the Brewers of Ohio.  This is the third postcard I've found from this traveling family.  This one is addressed to "F.A. Brewer, 623 N. St. Clair, Painsville, Ohio"  I've managed to confirm that F.A. Brewer is Frank A. Brewer, born in Painsville, Ohio on May 30, 1891.  There were quite a few Brewers born at about the same time.  But who sent this postcard?  The message, "Feeling fine.  Had good milk. Children good, not tired, getting in Chicago.  Will write soon.  C.B."  And added latter, "10 P.M. getting on train in Chicago."  Not exactly florid prose.  C.B. could be Frank's sister Carrie  or perhaps Frank's wife.  Impossible to tell.  The card was postmarked "CHICAGO ILL OCT 9 1928"  If C.B. and the kids were on their way to Painsville, did they beat the postcard?

Click on Brewer in the labels section to bring up the other cards.

A Bold Portrait

It's always tricky trying to read personality into an old photograph.  For all I know this woman was shy, retiring, and looked at the floor when talking to someone.  But when I look at this picture I see confidence, a keep up with me if you can look.  As has been noted on many a vintage photo blog, we'll never know.  

Older Women

Two more from the packet of studio portraits I've been posting.  Unlike the last two entries, these haven't been cut from a photo album.  Montgomery's, written on the bottom of the two images, is probably a photographers name but there's no way to be sure.

More Destroyed Photo Albums

I'm not 100% certain, but my guess is that this album fragment was cut from the same source as the last post.   I wish that the parade picture hadn't been destroyed.

Destroying Photo Albums

Every so often, I feel the need to complain about the wanton destruction of photo albums and the breaking up of collections by antique dealers.   I understand that they're trying to increase their profits by selling individual images, but come on, there's history to think about.  It's true that the average person thinks of war, elections, and famous people when they hear the word history,  but there is a whole other historical past out there; the past of the ordinary, they way people lived, the day by day that's every bit as important as who won the election of  1884.

The dealer who sold me these images, as well as some others that may or may not have come from the same source, saw the two studio portraits as his profit.  When those photos wouldn't pull off the page, out came the razor blade and goodbye photo album.  Now, I admit that they are lovely images, but when I turned them over...all I could think of  was how much more interesting they would have been if I could have put her life into some sort of context.  And if the dealer hadn't cut things up, I might have been able to do that.  The funny thing is, I bought these two photos plus five other images in an envelope, for five dollars.  I would have paid more for a single page of the album, with both sides intact, and even more for the whole album.

Embossed on the second photo, "BAUGH WINFIELD, KANS"  I couldn't find anything about the photographer.  Winfield, Kansas is a town in southern Kansas, current population, 12,000+.

Cycling In 1955

The focus on this photo, dated "1955" is a bit shaky, but I love the old style bike,  the price was right, so I had to have it.

I got my first bicycle ten years after this picture was taken.  I desperately wanted a Schwinn.  My father, who always had an eye for a bargain,  got me a very heavy, chromed behemoth of a Huffy instead.  The house we lived in had a basement garage that was kept open all summer to help with the heat.  One day, someone walked through the open garage door, into the basement and took the Huffy.  My parents were very, very angry.  But they weren't angry with the thief.  They were angry with me.  A couple of months after the Huffy was stolen, my father showed up on one of his occasional visits, climbed into the back of his pickup truck and tossed out an old, used bike as a replacement.  It was an English made Raleigh, far lighter than the Huffy,  with a three speed Sturmy-Archer hub.

I grew up in a river valley in western Pennsylvania, and the Huffy was far too heavy to get up the hill and out of town.  The Raleigh, lighter and with gears,  didn't have that problem.  I've been an avid cyclist ever since.  The best bike isn't the newest or shiniest, it's that one that's ridden.  The Huffy, because of it's weight, had a tendency to stay in the basement, the Raleigh,  well worn, was always on the go.  I even rode it in winter, in the snow.

The North Texas State Normal College Album 6

Love the cow.  Why is that man sneaking up behind the woman?  Click on NTSNC in the labels section to bring up the whole collection.