postcards – one letter UP ~ diary 2.0

Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #159: Postcards

...If you have some real postcards it would be great if you would like to share them with us, I’m sure they have a nice story behind them…

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Postcards? I still have every postcard I ever received. Musty, faded & bent corners …no matter. The connection forged with the actual written word is unique because it is so very personal. I also have postcards passed down to me – as the family archivist for better or worse (someday they will be passed down again). Such a fascinating peek into the past…both for the images on the front and messages on the back.

The “postal card” was used in 1913 as a form of advertising; probably because it was a cheaper way to communicate via the US mail. It seems similar to the junk mail of today, but it also doubles as a fascinating snapshot of history over 100 years later. I discovered this postcard in a box of photographs & letters from my grandparents. I looked closely at the photo for the first time. Hamilton Ave…1913…boats in the street?!? A few mouse clicks later, I solved the mystery: March 26th, 1913 – the “Great Miami River Flood” in Hamilton, Ohio (as well as other towns in the Miami Valley). The river crested at 44 feet, resulting in 467 deaths.

The Stanley L. Dornseifer Company used an image of the devastation 6 months later to let customers know they were still in business…their sign prominent in the photo… Postage? 1 cent.

Postcards were apparently also used to share class photos – in addition to advertising a photographer’s services. I found this example featuring my grandmother’s grammar school class in Cincinnati, Ohio. Not sure which grade…circa 1914 -1915.

My grandmother (Oma) always labeled everything (for which I am eternally grateful)…so here’s the back…

Fast forward 50 years or so and I began collecting postcards…mostly from my grandparents. They often sent me newsy notes when I was at Girl Scout camp (...I suppose you are having a good time playing games, singing and dancing…Do they play baseball? We both miss you very much...Love, Oma and Opa.). Or when they went on trips to let me know they were thinking of me. The handwritten cards are so precious to me, but I have to admit I wonder at the interesting (?) choice of images…

At the time I’m sure I was more focused on the messages…I was never a big fan of cats anyway.

Over the years, I’ve always checked out the postcard section in card or souvenir shops – both when traveling and shopping locally – and I have amassed quite the collection of humorous postcards. Some were mailed off to friends and some I have kept. Below is a tiny sample.

Memes before there were memes…

I hope postcards never go completely out of style.

“It’s just paper”

That’s what the woman at the outdoor flea market told me. I asked her about the stacks of postcards, letters and old black & white photographs on display. Bundled in piles or open in plastic bins to thumb through. A musty smell hung over the tables, reminiscent of old boxes forgotten in an attic – or basement – for decades.

Everything for sale.

These collections are personal. Handwritten postcards, in childish script, to Gramma and Grampa postmarked 1945 from a vacation spot in Florida. Carefully posed serious groups of family members circa 1920 (?). A wedding party from the 1940’s (said the seller, based on the suits worn by the men). And letters written home from soldiers during World War II. I started to open one, but when I realized what it was, I just couldn’t unfold it. Put it back. Invasion of privacy.

“Where did you get all this?” I asked.

A shrug of the shoulders. “Oh, everywhere. Estate sales. Other flea markets.”

I still didn’t understand.

“What about the families these are from?” I asked, looking into the smiling faces of women in their Sunday best. Long dresses and fancy hats.

I kept getting the same answers. Families don’t want it. There was no family left to take it.

But every photo has a story! Someone wrote that postcard and I’ll bet someone loved receiving it. It was important. To someone. It’s not just paper.

And now being sold to strangers. To gawk at or buy and sell at a profit. Photos spread outside on tables in the full sun, curling and fading fast. Like yesterday’s newspaper.

I don’t get it. And I don’t have a solution for other alternatives – on what to do with all the…paper.

Today – at the latest flea market – I heard a term I had not paid much attention to before.

We get all kinds of ephemera, one seller mentioned.

Ephemera? I asked.

Yeah, it’s just paper – things that have been around a long time. People collect it.

So, when I got home I looked it up – not Wikipedia, but Merriam Webster no less…

Definition of ephemera

plural ephemera also ephemerae play \i-ˈfe-mər-ē, -ˈfem-rē\ or ephemeras

1: something of no lasting significance —usually used in plural

2: ephemera plural: paper items (such as posters, broadsides, and tickets) that were originally meant to be discarded after use but have since become collectibles

“Something of no lasting significance” – this caught my attention.

Seriously?

No lasting significance? To who?

And…if that’s the case, why collect it?

I also wonder…if someday there is no ephemera to collect, to sell, to display under the hot sun – when postcards and private letters are completely replaced by email. When all photos are digital. And “what is meant to be discarded” is permanently erased by the click of a delete button or a cloud power surge. No going back. No undo.

Because as we know, the “cloud” is just scores of huge buildings with hard drives & machinery humming away somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Full of terabytes of our future ephemera. Which will never end up at a flea market.

But what about our children’s children’s children? How will they know of who came before?

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I did not buy any photos at the flea market. Or postcards. Or letters.

However – a real family photo – is below. And in a photo album on my shelf.

It is not ephemera.