I read a lot of old newspapers, which means I see a lot of old ads. Some of them are too good to keep to myself.
Source: The Chicago Tribune; Sept. 29, 1935
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Month: August 2019
Unearthed: McClanahan & McClanahan
It was lilac season, so of course we went to Graceland Cemetery.
My husband knows I’m a sucker for lilacs, and how much I look forward to that moment in spring when the bushes foam over with good-smelling blossoms. Graceland provides a particularly nice array of lilacs in season, so he suggested we take a walk through the cemetery on a Sunday morning this past May.
That’s where I spotted Archie. I was drawn at first to the fragile little flowers scattered on his cool grey stone. I took the photo for that, and because I’ve been trying to take more cemetery pictures of people who lived long lives. They leave more records, which makes my research easier, and they are more likely to die of natural causes, which helps my mood.
I’m also a sucker for father-daughter stories, and as it turns out, he has one.
Old Ad of the Week: Like a Klondike Lil
I read a lot of old newspapers, which means I see a lot of old ads. Some of them are too good to keep to myself.
Subtext: “Your friends aren’t tramps. I only holler at tramps.” Nice dude.
Source: The Baltimore Sun; Feb. 13, 1938
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Cora: Wheat and Chaff (11)
Read the full Cora Stallman series here.
His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. — The Merchant of Venice
When Cora Stallman’s inquest resumed on the last day of August 1925, it had been just three days since the last adjournment, but a full month since her death.
She had died at the zenith of summer; now, the people were looking toward fall. In Arcola, the broomcorn harvest was under way. Threshermen and hired hands were in high demand. The county fair was in two weeks. And for some, a new school year loomed.
Out on her sister’s farm, Cora’s cottage stood empty under the receding sun. When its screen door banged in a late summer wind, or the last swallows dipped between the porch pillars, she was no longer there to notice.
Cora was gone, but the business of her death remained unfinished. If the investigation itself were a tended crop, it too must be brought in for the year.
Old Ad of the Week: That Wide-Awake Look
I read a lot of old newspapers, which means I see a lot of old ads. Some of them are too good to keep to myself.
Source: The San Francisco Examiner; May 4, 1941
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Graveyard Snoop 