Family Portrait Gallery #5

Here's a portrait which has had a rough time, at least lately. I bought this one in a sandwich bag, which is why I still have the cracked corners and a few other tiny chips from the card. I'm not an artistically knowledgeable guy, really. But I think the cracked stucco wall behind the soft face of this young lady makes for a nice contrast.

The break makes it hard to parse the name of the photographer, but it is apparently "Saettele." According to this list here, there were quite a few different members of the Saettele family who worked as photographers, several of them on either 6th or Franklin Ave in Saint Louis, Missouri. In 1972, this portion of Franklin Avenue was renamed after Martin Luther King, but that didn't stop the decay of that part of town. Since 1995, the former location of this portrait studio is home to Edward Jones Dome, which is home to not only the St. Louis Rams, but also the 2011-2013 FIRST World Championship Competitions.

When I was working on my previous blog, a now-defunct MP3 blog, I spent a lot of time reading and thinking about the legend of Stagger Lee, based on a real 1895 murder in St. Louis. Because I am nothing if not curious, I plugged in the address of the murder into Google, and it's just four blocks from this portrait studio, and probably less than a decade away in time. (Billy Lyons, the murder victim, would have walked within spitting distance of the studio from his home to the bar where he met his end.)

Postcards from the Past #2: The Space Needle

Here's a dramatic view of Seattle's Space Needle.


The Space Needle was being constructed 50 years ago, and was opened to the public in April 1962, to celebrate the 1962 World's Fair. The space-age design of the Needle helped set the tone for the Exposition, and the building is, of course, still standing today. (I visited with my family about six years ago, though my memories of the ride and view are vague, mostly conflated with The CN Tower, which we visited the very next year.)

It's a pretty nighttime view, but since I'm no expert on Seattle history there's nothing here that will help me pinpoint the year. That TraveLodge is still there, amazingly enough. That gas torch on the top wasn't taken out until, probably, 1999, when a new enormous spotlight was installed.



I can't find much online about The Ellis Post Card Co., but here's an extensive biography/obituary of Ira Spring, one-half of the pair of twins credited with the photo.

Family Portrait Gallery #4

Here's a whole family!


Father's glasses and slight squint make him seem not only unhappy, but perturbed. Mother at least looks like she's trying to smile. The three daughters, whose names are written above their heads, all look straight on at the camera. It's pretty obvious that, unlike all the previous portraits I've posted, this one didn't happen in a studio -- this was probably outside the kitchen door of Mother and Father's house, where the three sisters grew up. The cake is also pretty clearly homemade.

But wait, what's this? There's information written on the back of the card? Glory be!



In addition to the writing, there's also some ghosting of other handwriting I can't make out. The next-to-bottom line starts with "58 J" but other than that I'm at a loss. (Fiddling with the contrast in my editing software isn't much help, either.)

I'm so used to having to extrapolate whatever I can from the actual picture that it's almost crippling to have so much to go on here. It feels like any of my guesses actually weaken the effect of the picture, so I'll just say this: Grandma and Grandad Hicks were married 95 years ago, and for the two of them to live to see a golden wedding anniversary was remarkable at the time.

Two Walt Disney World Dishes

These two plates reflect the first half of Walt Disney World's 40-year history. First, we have a very elaborate glass plate from the 70's. It has a total of seven pictures, representing 2 attractions, two resort transporation vehicles, and three highlights of the themed design and architecture. Before we start, this plate has a very odd topology, which means it's pretty difficult to photograph. I couldn't get any pictures of the whole thing to come out well, so be sure to look at this post to see the plate as a whole, plus its original box and low low price.

First is the center of the tray, with a rendition of Cinderella's Castle.



Then, starting at the top and working our way clockwise, we have a picture of one of the Ferryboats which cross The Seven Seas Lagoon every day, and provide an alternative to the monorail for those who hate heights or prefer boats.


Next, we see one version of the Netherlands scene of "it's a small world." (This video is from the 1964 World's Fair version of the ride, but it's fairly accurate to the park version too.)



Now we visit Liberty Square, home (though not pictured) of The Haunted Mansion and The Hall of Presidents.


A scene from The Jungle Cruise.


An overhead view of Main Street, USA.


And finally, the monorail, coming out of The Contemporary Hotel.


There are a lot of these plates around, so they're dirt cheap if you'd like one.

Now we'll move on to the more recent, and much more simple, ashtray.


I love the simple geometric abstraction of this, and to be honest the bright 80s colors are fun too. I'm glad nobody's used this to put out their cigarettes -- it's nice to have it without burn marks or many stains. The back has a little tiny bit of information, too:

Until I took this picture today, I'd never seen the permanent marker price handwritten on, as it was covered up by the price I actually paid (same as the much larger, much nicer glass plate above, and considerably more than a dollar.)

These two dishes aren't worth much on the collector's market, but I'm happy I ran across each of them, and when the day comes that I have enough display space for all my useless junk, these will both be prominently featured.

Postcards from the Past #1: Large Grain Elevator(s)

One of the things I love best about thrift stores and junk stores is the hundreds of old, unused postcards. Most of them are only a dollar or two, and they show us what places used to look like fifty years ago, or which motels feature "de-luxe" accomodations and "gourmet" food. I like to take these cards, which were bought on vacation and taken home, then stored in a shoebox and eventually thrown out, and write on them and mail them to my friends.

I know, it's not the best way to preserve this valuable reminder of our society's past. On the other hand, these ephemera were made to be mailed, and a postcard stamp is still insanely cheap. (What this means for you, dear reader, is that the best and most interesting postcards are long gone -- I mailed them to people years ago so I can't post them here.)

Here's one from my most recent batch of purchases. Click to embiggen -- the details are great. First, and most noticeable, is that someone had to handwrite the pluralization of "elevator" on the original proof of the card, and then add another comma after it. You can read the company names on the elevators, too. From front to back, I see Richardson, Pool, and Union.

Port Arthur and Fort William merged in 1970, into the city of Thunder Bay, Ontario. The city still has grain elevators, though the buildings on the postcard are most likely long gone.



You'll notice that one edge of the card is perforated, which means it was probably taken from a book of postcards. The Photogelatine Engraving Co, Ltd, of Toronto, was in existence from 1910 to 1953. Other than looking up company histories, the only way I can think of to pinpoint the date of this picture any further is by finding a copy of this book. It's held in three libraries, all in Canada. If anyone in Ontario has further information, or the time to flip through this book, feel free to comment below.

Family Portrait Gallery #3

Here's a lovely couple, photographed in Brooklyn many decades ago (after 1915, which is the only year I can nail down). The cardboard frame was stained and watermarked (which, as you can see, my scanner brought out very nicely) during the picture's long life. As with the previous two entries in my family portrait gallery, there are no notes or information written on the photo or frame so I have no information about the featured couple here.

I'd like to speculate if I may, and then we'll get to facts later on. The woman in this picture is wearing two rings, one on each ring finger. The man appears to not be wearing a ring, but we can't see his right hand -- perhaps they're Orthodox? Perhaps someone more knowledgeable about clothing styles could speculate a year for us, based on the cut of his suit, or even the style of her veil?

So here's what we do know. Roubian Palmisano (if that is indeed a first name) ran a portrait studio in Brooklyn. The front of it looked like this. Previous to the Palmisano studio, another portrait photographer worked in the same place, but J. Palmisano (Roubian's father?) opened his place in 1915. Some time after this portrait was taken, Palmisano expanded his business into the adjoining storefront, and then took this picture. And then later, that building came down. Here's what 262 Columbia Street looks like today.

Winchester Mystery House Stein

In 2008, I went off on one of my best and most memorable adventures. (I know this won't sound exciting or adventurous to most of you, but it was perfect and just what I needed at the time.) My friend Todd was getting married in Pasadena, so I flew out to San Francisco with one friend, where we met the other two members of our party and drove down to LA. Besides the wedding (and amazing reception), we also visited Disneyland and Muir Woods and Fisherman's Wharf with The Musee Mecanique and The Huntington and The World's Largest Monopoly Board.

Oh, and The Winchester Mystery House, a silly, bizarre, amazing attraction in San Jose. You can click on those two links to learn more, but here are the basics: Sarah Winchester was the widow of William Winchester, heir and treasurer of The Winchester Repeating Arms Company. The story goes that Sarah, overwhelmed with grief at the loss of her husband and infant child, was told by a medium that all the people killed by the Winchester Rifles would haunt her. Unless, that is, she built a new house, and continued building every day. So her mansion was always under construction until the day she died, even though the constant renovation for renovation's sake made little sense. There are doors that open onto brick walls, a closet with no floor, and a staircase that ends at the ceiling. And they say there are ghosts. I'm a skeptical guy, and I don't truck with psychics or mediums or ghost stories, but I think the image of Sarah Winchester moving slowly through her house, alone like Miss Havisham, dreaming up crazier and crazier renovations, is plenty haunting enough.

I didn't get this stein until about 18 months later, and it's a glorious 70's-era thing. I'm not particularly knowledgeable about antiques, and this mug doesn't have a manufacturer's mark of any kind, so I can't nail down the year conclusively. There are similar souvenir steins with different molds, but this mug right here has an identical mold and is for the Expo '74, in Spokane, Washington. So I'd imagine this is contemporary to that one.


The mold on this is fairly elaborate, though my copy of this stein is well-worn on the front and back sides, probably due to decades of storage against another souvenir stein. (I bought another mug at this same store, which I'll post sometime.)