Ride the Toboggan at Grossinger's in the Catskills!

...and enjoy our snowy, cold, freezing, chilling weather here in the Northeast.  Only a few more weeks until Spring!

MacArthur Causeway, Then and Now

The white border postcard above shows the MacArthur Causeway connecting Miami and Miami Beach, in its early days.  Construction on the causeway started in 1917 and was finished in 1920.  It was originally called the "County Causeway" and it was built to replace a deteriorating wooden bridge to the north which has since become the Venetian Causeway.

One of the mysteries of old postcards is determining when they were actually published.  In this case, it's a "white border" postcard, and those were published between 1915 and 1930.  Since we know that the causeway was finished in 1920, that narrows down the card to 1920-1930.  Another clue can be found by comparing the postcard to today's Google Earth view from the same vantage point, which can be seen below.  At the far end of the causeway there is an additional island now that is not in the original view.  This is Watson Island, which was build from reclaimed land surrounding the western end of the roadway.  Watson Island was completed in 1926, so now we know that the postcard dates between 1920 to 1926.  

It's interesting to see all the development that has taken place since the 20's.  The residential islands to the "right" (really the north) of the causeway are completely developed with high end homes, and there are additional islands built on the other side.  You can also see the significant high rise developments all the way up and down the coast (in the foreground).  

All in all, I'd rather be there today than in New England, where the high temperature for today in my Connecticut town is supposed to be 14 degrees!

The Fuller Brush Man

The Fuller Brush Company was started by Alfred Fuller in 1906.  One of Hartford, Connecticut's most iconic historical companies, Fuller Brush became well known not only for its products, but for its door-to-door sales force. In its first years, it sold 32 types of brushes, mops and brooms locally, but in 1909 it went national when a classified ad looking for salesmen yielded 260 dealers. Working on commission only, these men walked an average of six miles a day. According to archival documents from the Fuller Brush Company, seven out of ten recruits failed in the first three months.

The postcard from my collection above was apparently sent to potential customers in advance of a visit from a salesperson.  It is a "certificate" for a free brush, to be redeemed with the salesman, without obligation to buy anything else.  Click on the image for a larger version, or read the text of the card here:

THIS CERTIFICATE entitles Mrs. ______ to one complimentary "Sanitary Faultless Fuller Brush."  Its use is representative of our extensive line and will be presented by Mr. J. E. Vaughan of Dayton, O.  our Advertising Representative, who will call within a few days.  This certificate must be given to him when the brush is presented.
     Your receiving this article does not obligate you to purchase anything whatsoever, but, as it is something that you will use several times a day for many months to come, we trust that it will serve as a reminder and secure for us your order when you are in want.

Great early marketing!  As time went on, the company focused on manufacturing items for WWII, before returning to domestic items.  From there it continued to grow and become so well known that it was even featured in a gag in Walt Disney's Three Little Pigs, when the wolf disguised himself as a Fuller Brush Man.

Today, the company is no longer in Connecticut, having gone through several buyouts and iterations including becoming part of the Sara Lee conglomerate, now operating out of a facility in Kansas.  Luckily for us, however, the early days of marketing are well-documented on postcards which document the roots of early 20th century businesses and their activities.


- Source of some of the above information and place to see more about the Fuller Brush Company: http://connecticuthistory.org/hartfords-fuller-brush-company-goes-door-to-door-across-us/#sthash.gMSvgHGn.dpuf.

The Tramp Chair

At just over 5' 4" high and 2' wide, this is not a comfortable contraption. It was designed by Sanford J. Baker (1838-1905), a blacksmith from Oakland, Maine, sometime in the late 1800s. Reports variously state that Baker constructed 3 to 13 of his iron cages.  They were used to lock up "tramps," the old-school definition being male vagrants and "hobos" who were found wandering around town begging, sleeping in public places, or catching free rides on freight cars to move on to the next place.

The postcard above shows one of the chairs on the grounds of the Samoset Hotel, in Rockland, Maine, along with a caption describing the purpose of these devices.  Click on the image to read the caption.

The Tramp Chair was patented by Sanford Baker, and news of its creation reached across the country.  In the May 21, 1899 edition of the Los Angeles Herald, an article written by the inventor was published.  The article is a fascinating look at bias, discrimination and treatment of the destitute in 1899.  Here is a transcript:

IN TERROR Of THE TRAMP CHAIR The Inventor of a Remarkable Instrument Extinguishing the Wandering Willie Tribe Describes Its Successful Working in His Native Place

Apart from the professionalist humorist, who finds the tramp an Inexhaustible subject for jokes, no one has the slightest use for the hobos who infest our country roads and beg or steal for a living.  It Is good news, therefore, that a means has been found for squelching the pest. A worthy citizen has invented what he calls a tramp chair, which he claims is a never failing remedy for the hobo trouble. A picture of the chair Is shown accompanying the article that follows, which was written by the Inventor, especially for this newspaper.

Oakland, Me., May 10.—(Special Correspondence to The Herald.) The genus tramp has become an extinct animal in this locality since the adoption by tho town authorities of the tramp chair, of which I am the proud inventor. My pride is, I think, a pardonable one, for I live in a town that for years suffered abominably from the hobo nuisance; the Wandering Willie fraternity at times, in fact, became an unmitigated and dangerous evil and drove us to adopt extreme measures or be at the mercy of the vagabond loafer. Inspired with a desire to find means of freeing from this nuisance the community in which I was most interested I set my wits to work and evolved the tramp chair, which I will describe.

It is simply a strongly built cage in the form of a chair on wheels. It is so constructed that the occupant must remain perfectly quiet in a sitting position. A shelf is placed near the top for food and the contrivance can be handed about from place to place at will. The chief peculiarity of the chair lies in its door. When used as a method of punishment the culprit is obliged to enter it and sit down. The door, which is so constructed, that it follows the lines of the chair, is then closed and locked and the victim is confined as firmly as though he were glued to the seat. Another peculiar thing about the chair is that when the door is locked he cannot draw his feet up or move any part of his body enough to obtain rest. The chair resembles some of the ancient instruments of torture used by the Inquisition, in being only moderately formidable as to appearance, but a terror to those who are forced to spend only a few hours within its confines.

When I first introduced the chair to my surprised townspeople attempt after attempt was made to induce someone to sit in the chair as an experiment, but no one seemed to be willing to go back far enough in Puritanic days to allow himself to become a subject. As a last resort, to show its workings, by the assistance of a $5 bill I persuaded one man to enter the chair and remain there for two and a half hours. The victim remained in the chair for the length of time agreed, but at the end of his penance grasped the money with such alacrity that it was shown he considered he had earned the reward many times over.

Through the experiment it was shown that I had substantiated one of my claims that no man could remain in the chair for any length of time and when he was out of the chair say that he had been thoroughly comfortable or that he would be willing to repeat the experiment, even with a money consideration as the reward for the time he had spent doing nothing.

That suggestion of doing nothing is one of the strong points of the tramp chair idea, for the true hobo spends his life in studying new ways and means of accomplishing that greatest desire of his lazy soul—absolute inaction. To be wheeled about, in a chair like a big baby seems to him to be the acme of slothful ease. He steps in for his first ride in the chair with alacrity, finds it not unpleasant for the first ten minutes, then begins to feel uncomfortable, gets cramped and finds his bones aching, and before the end of an hour's ride he is yelling murder and dynamite and promising all kinds of reformation if only he can get out. When his punishment is over and he is finally released the tramp makes a bee line for the open country and thenceforth comes nowhere near the town that chairs its tramp guests through the streets. I hope some day to get the Maine legislature to adopt the tramp chair punishment for use throughout the state. It is a sure cure in every case.

Two tramp chairs have been in the Oakland lockup for some time. In proof of their usefulness I quote two reports, one from Augusta, a neighboring town, and one from Oakland. On February 3, 1890, the following report was printed in Augusta: "City Marshal Morse gave a nightly lodging to 275 wanderers during the month of January, thirty having been sheltered on a single night." The Oakland report for February 1, 1899, says: "A tramp was given lodging in the lockup Sunday night. Oakland has been quite free from tramps this winter, this being the first that has asked for lodging for several months."

Just think of the difference; 275 tramps in one short month in Augusta, and only one here in Oakland, where the tramp chair was invented and kept on exhibition in our lockup for tramps to look It looks as though the chair had surely got the beat of the tramps.

In a number of cases reliable men have told me that tramps inquired in their hearing what town this was, and on being told that it was Oakland said: "What! Is this where the tramp chair is?" The bystander told them it was. "Well, then," answered the tramp, "we will not stop here," and went on.

Our lawmakers have racked their brains for the last fifteen years to make laws that would drive the tramp from Maine, but everything except the tramp chair has proved a failure. I will pay any man or woman $100 if they will produce one tramp that I cannot cure of tramping if I can have control of the case. The tramp chair is the only thing ever invented by mortal man that a tramp ever feared. Not even powder and ball, for two can play at that game, and with the chair only one.

A tramp is a man traveling, pretending to be looking for work and praying to God all the time that he may never find any. As long as the tramp is looking for a job just invite him to sit in the chair instead of sawing wood to pay for food and lodging, two and one-half hours at a time, and see if he wants to repeat the experiment.

The tramp tax of the sixteen counties of Maine in the year 1898, according to the state report amounted to $64,508. Just think of the enormous expense to each county that has villages and has a large population. Nearly one-third of all our county tax is to pay the tramps' board for thirteen or fourteen weeks in jail every year. The jail is the tramps' home in winter. This has been proved by the county reports of two of our counties that have no jails—Piscataquis and Sagadahoc. They have no tramps in winter because they have no jails; consequently the tramps keep clear of these two counties in winter because they have no jails and goes to his winter home in some other county where the jailer smacks his chops at the sight of his powerful lever— the tramp—the man that the county towns to send to jail in hopes of getting rid of them, a few weeks, even at the enormous tax that must be levied on the taxpayer and must be paid in money. Isn't that a potent argument in favor of my tramp chair?

Anything more that I can do to aid the people in getting rid of tramps will be cheerfully done. SANFORD J. BAKER.

Reading the article, one can't help compare the attitude of Mr. Baker to the attitudes that exist today towards those who are below the radar, so to speak.  While there are always people who are unmotivated or unable to contribute to their own well-being or that of society, there are many more who are not satisfied with their position but have difficulty pulling it together and raising themselves up.  Mr. Baker painted with a very broad brush in 1899, as some do today.  But, I was elated to find this letter to the editor of the Los Angeles Herald, 3 days after the above article was published, by someone who wished to straighten him out:

Walter, thanks for speaking up!

The Willow Grove Diner Journey

This is one of my favorite diner postcards, as it shows the employees and customers in a relatively natural unposed scene.  It's a linen card of the the Willow Grove Diner, when it was in Willow Grove, Pennsylvania.  It was at the intersection of Routes 611 and 263, a site now occupied by a Burger King.  According to the current owners, the diner was built in 1948 by the Fodero Dining Car Company and operated there until the early 1960's.  In 1963, new owners moved it to a vacant lot in New Jersey, but never re-opened it.

In 1996, a new owner came along -- a diner aficionado with a vision -- and he disassembled it piece by piece and shipped it to Bainbridge Island, Washington, a mere 2,800 miles away.  Re-opened as the Blue Water Diner, it was visited by Guy Fieri from the Food Network.  Since then, it has been also named the Big Star Diner and the Madison Diner, and its current owners continue to operate it in a spirit consistent with its long history and even longer journey.

Here's a shot of the exterior in its current location:

Lobster for Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to my followers!

At the first Thanksgiving, legend has it that lobster played a prominent role on the menu, prepared by the Native Americans and introduced to the pilgrims.  So, it's fitting that today's post features some restaurants that feature lobster on their menus.  Where shall we dine this Thursday?

This card is of the Lobster House, in Allendale, South Carolina.  

The back of the card says, "A Year 'Round Restaurant of Distinction.  Air-Conditioned.  You can always depend on really good food and service."  Except, I don't think that advice holds true any longer, judging by the current street view in Google Maps!

I guess we'll have to move on.  Let's try Eugene's Sea Food restaurant in the Hotel Juneau in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  They feature lobster prominently on their menu, and, according to the back of the card, it sounds like a great place: "Downtown overlooking the Lake.  Beautiful Juneau Park, Elks Club and one-half block from C. & N. W. Depot.  Rates with bath $1.75 and up; without bath less.  Convenient parking space.  Famous for sea food.  No larger variety anywhere.  Air conditioned dining rooms. Coffee Shop, Tavern and Lobby.  Recommended by Duncan Hines."

Well, Eugene's is out as well.  Mr. Eugene Trimberger sold the hotel in 1948 to another operater, and then it was razed in 1964 to make room for a new building.  

Are we out of luck?  We'll have to try Boone's Restaurant, in Portland, Maine.  Originally opened in 1898, Boone's was the originator of baked stuffed lobster.  Here's a great linen advertising card, featuring an over-sized crustacean and an anxious diner...

Recently renovated, Boone's is still going strong, over 100 years old.  So, have a happy thanksgiving, and now we know where to meet for some traditional Thanksgiving food!!

Model Dinosaurs

Well, I thought I would show a unique card this week -- a model Tyrannosaurus Rex, which is on display at Dinosaur Valley Bridge, in Alberta, Canada.

When I subsequently discovered that on Flickr there are 1,489 photographs (not postcards) of roadside dinosaurs, I cut my research short!  So, check those all other ones here. https://www.flickr.com/groups/roadsidedinosaurs/pool/
and enjoy!!