Wild Postcards

This card depicts what is presumed to be the final home of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Efes (Ephesus), where Catholic tradition holds that she died.

I sent this card to my Aunt Brenda, who at that time was the keeper of the collection, in an envelope along with several other postcards. I was in Turkey courtesy of Uncle Sam, and was still in awe over the favorable exchange rates.

The notation in the lower left — “her hakki mahfuzdur” — translates roughly as “every genuine(ness) looked after”, presumably the same sentiment as “all rights reserved”. The Turkish language is not for the squeamish. (Also of note: the word is correctly spelled “hakiki”, but the publisher has spelled it as it is actually pronounced.)

Efes is also the name of a pretty good Turkish beer, which sponsors a fairly mediocre basketball team, which has some really hot cheerleaders.

(Now how did I digress from the Virgin Mary to hot cheerleaders?)

This card depicts what is presumed to be the final home of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Efes (Ephesus), where Catholic tradition holds that she died. I sent this card to my Aunt Brenda, who at that time was the keeper of the collection, in an envelope along with several other postcards. I was in [...]

This may look like a real photo postcard, but it’s actually a black-and-white photochrome postcard with a deckled edge. It was published by Dexter Press of Pearl River, New York.

Owens-Illinois was a key place in my family’s history. This from the obituary of my grandmother, Mildred Cossaboon, who passed away on 27 March 2008:

She was the daughter of the late Philip Nelson Smith and the late Charlotte Blanch (nee Arison) Smith. Born in Flatwoods, Fayette County, Pa., on June 30, 1923, she attended grade school in Franklin Township, Pa., and graduated from Dunbar High School, in 1942. Mrs. Cossaboon came, as did many others, to work at the Owens-Illinois Glass Company, in 1943.

It was there that she met my grandfather, a glassblower, and the rest is history.

Her cousin, John Hodinka (“Sonny”), also came to work there after his service with the 82nd Airborne Division. He’s a great man who is very proud of his service (and rightfully so), and would love to jump out of a perfectly good airplane even today.

Not surprisingly, he’s enamored with the Band of Brothers miniseries. He told me that he was watching the interviews and that one of the members of Easy Company was talking about how he went to work for Owens-Illinois in Bridgeton. (That man was Carwood Lipton, played in the movie by Donnie Wahlberg.) Sonny told me with surprise, “I worked with that son-of-a-bitch for five years and he never said a word.”

This may look like a real photo postcard, but it’s actually a black-and-white photochrome postcard with a deckled edge. It was published by Dexter Press of Pearl River, New York. Owens-Illinois was a key place in my family’s history. This from the obituary of my grandmother, Mildred Cossaboon, who passed away on 27 March 2008: [...]

This card, from my great-grandfather’s collection, brings tidings of the new year of 1913 to Mr. John H. Greim of 715 Dick Street in Reading, Pennsylvania, from Emma Hinline. Alas, Dick Street no longer seems to exist in Reading, probably because eighth-graders kept stealing the street signs.

To my knowledge, Mr. Greim is no relation; he was probably an associate of Great-Grandpa’s dad, James Henry Smith, and passed the card along. Mr. Greim thoughtfully put the date of receipt (12/28/1912) on the front of the card, as the postmark bears no year. He was also kind enough to fill in Emma’s surname, as she signed the card “Emma H.”

Emma writes that she “Received your card. My head is slowly getting better. It may be a week or two more before it is quite well.” Of course, if she had loosened her corset, the blood would have drained from her head faster.

This embossed card was printed in Germany, which is fairly common of cards in the years leading up to World War I — after which the supply from Germany dried up. Also, one must flip this card on the long end, rather than on the short end, as with cards today.

Notice that this postcard was postmarked December 27 at 3:30 PM in Nazareth, PA and, if we are to believe the notation on the front, made it 50 miles to Reading the next day. Over turn-of-the-century country roads. For one cent’s worth of postage. Note to the Postal Service: shape up.

The 1920 census notes that Mr. Greim was 40 years old, making him 32 or so in 1912. While he apparently sent a nice card to Emma, he became a little more suspicious as he grew older. In 1927 (according to the Library of Congress), he dropped a note to President Calvin Coolidge, questioning whether or not Silent Cal’s endorsement of Webster’s Dictionary was unsolicited, and whether or not there was any consideration received:

I wonder what he had against the Webster people.

This card, from my great-grandfather’s collection, brings tidings of the new year of 1913 to Mr. John H. Greim of 715 Dick Street in Reading, Pennsylvania, from Emma Hinline. Alas, Dick Street no longer seems to exist in Reading, probably because eighth-graders kept stealing the street signs. To my knowledge, Mr. Greim is no relation; [...]