Dear $$firstname$$,

With Valentine’s Day upon us, we thought we’d romance our readers with some old celebrity ads, including one for valentine candy, and a story about a wartime sailor with an eager and hopeful valentine back home. And there’s plenty more to enjoy, either with a cup of your favorite hot beverage to ward off the chill or, if you live in warmer climes, a delicious drink on ice. Enjoy!

—The Folks at Reminisce

In this issue:

• When Ads Were Energized by Star Power
• The Italian Warlock of Easton, Pennsylvania
• Sweetheart of a Sailor
• A Thousand Delivery Days
• Poem: My Grandfather’s Life
• Time Capsule Trivia
• Over the Back Fence
• A Thought to Remember

When Ads Were Energized by Star Power

In the great movie studios era, there were no promotional contracts between a product’s parent company and the celebrity featured in its advertisement during the 1930s, ’40s and most of the ’50s.

The studio executives made all the decisions as to where and when a star’s face could hype a product, often without the knowledge of the artist. Not coincidentally, there were many times when the ad would promote a new film or record release.

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Whitman Samplers used a stunning photo of Elizabeth Taylor in its 1952 ad (at right) with a caption in the corner promoting her upcoming appearance in Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s movie extravaganza Ivanhoe.

Shirley Temple made Royal Crown Cola the hip drink while publicizing producer David O. Selznick’s 1944 film Since You Went Away.

Even today, when I have the opportunity to show a celebrity an advertisement from my collection featuring themselves, they are often still stunned to find that they were endorsing a particular product.

Actress Marcia Hunt was compelled to comment, “This is news to me,” upon seeing a 1950 ad done when she was under contract to Paramount Studios that declared, “Marcia Hunt’s favorite lipstick is Tangee Red Majesty.”

Gregory Peck was quick to note that his living past 80 was due to his kicking a smoking habit at 36, when shown an ad for Chesterfield cigarettes.

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Janet Leigh remarked, “This was my favorite photo,” regarding the picture in a Lux soap ad that also profiled the upcoming 1960 Columbia release of Who Was That Lady?

Neither Charlton Heston nor Kirk Douglas were aware—and in Mr. Douglas’ case none too happy—that they were depicted together in a Father’s Day ad with Glenn Ford for McGregor clothing with captions subliminally suggesting, in fine print, that people go out and see their respective films: The Ten Commandments and The Vikings.

It was Esther Williams who ushered in a new era of the celebrity spokeswoman and spokesman when she broke the established pattern with the first in a series of self-negotiated ads, a 1957 endorsement of Cole of California bathing suits. Ms. Williams remembers a very upset Louis B. Mayer saying, “But I don’t get anything out of this!” This is one of her earlier ads for the company, from 1949 (at right), that also promoted her movie Neptune’s Daughter.

Williams’ 1957 ads marked an end of an era, opening doors for stars to pick and choose who or what they would endorse.

—B. Harlan Boll
Littleton, Colorado

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The Italian Warlock of Easton, Pennsylvania

My grandparents were full-blooded Italian and, many times, set in their Old World ways. While I was growing up, the generational clashes between them, my mother and I was sometimes a burden. Of course, Grandma and Grandpa spoke Italian to each other anytime they didn’t want me to know what they were saying.

Although my rearing was overseen primarily by my mother, it was also supervised closely by my grandmother, who looked upon anything non-Italian as highly suspicious. Grandma Giovanna was a special person in our town. Born on Christmas Day, she was regarded highly and was thought to have the power to remove the “malocchia,” or “evil eye,” from the afflicted.

How one contracted the malocchia was unclear, but it was well known that if you acted in a haughty manner toward your friends, did not give proper respect to your family or were looked upon with envy by someone, you would be cursed. The curse would exhibit itself usually as a severe headache, but sometimes as a chest cold or stiff neck.

The diagnosis was made easily by any Italian woman over the age of 80. Grandma would dip the little finger of the afflicted person’s left hand into olive oil. Inclining the finger over a bowl of water, she watched intently as the oil dripped into the water. The oil would either stay together, or separate into small globules. The latter verified the malocchia. With a trembling, mournful voice, the old woman would speak the dreaded word. This was followed by the victim’s loud wailing.

My grandmother would take the accursed souls into her small bedroom and pray with them for a while. Miraculously they got better in a few days, much wiser, less haughty and more respectful.

When anyone was ill in our family, we went to church or to relatives—never a doctor. Sore throat? Crossed candles at your throat and the blessing of St. Blaise by your pastor fixed that. Coughing? A small square of brown wool with a picture of the blessed virgin inside was hung around your neck.

One snowy winter day, after rocketing down a steep hill on my sled, I wondered why the city planners had built a stone wall at the bottom of the best sledding hill in town. The top of my head was split open from the crash. I was carried to my front door by my playmates and pushed inside the foyer, where they yelled, ”Yo! Nicky’s Mom!” and left me to my fate.

My mom, on such occasions as this, usually led me to the cellar, saying “It doesn’t look that bad.” There I applied direct pressure to the wound while my mother flitted about the basement rafters, collecting the densest pieces of spider web she could find. This was her Old World remedy—packing this stuff into my gaping wound until the blood flow was stopped.

I was given a tight stocking cap to wear over the wound to keep the webs in place for the next 2 days. My teacher accepted the excuse of healing head trauma, but my classmates were sure I had ringworm or head lice.

Winter also brought earaches. For this, my mother would roll two sheets of newspaper into a cone approximately 20 inches long. I had to sit on a chair staring at a doorknob—my focal point—while Mom inserted the small end of the cone into the sore ear. Then she’d light the large end of the cone with a match. This was allowed to burn until either the flame extinguished itself or I’d jump up, tear the cone from my ear and run into the bathroom and lock the door.

One day, my best friend, Andy Peddersen, opened our front door and happened upon this earache cure. The next day at school, I was shunned by all, as he spread the word quickly that I was a witch. The rumor began with the description of me, the witch, burning my witch’s hat by shooting brain flames through my ear.

After the rumor was retold many times, the story went that I barbecued a small girl while playing ring-toss with her entrails.

My reputation as a warlock lasted all of 4 days. After a weekend, Andy acted as if nothing had happened. I was back to being just a regular guy, but now known as someone not to mess with, if you know what I mean.

—Nicholas Rotondo
Lotus, California

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Sweetheart of a Sailor

My uncle Erwin Currier was one of two radio operators on the USS Card CVE11, the smallest-size aircraft carrier, during World War II. He later served on the USS Bennington, the largest carrier of the time.

Back home in Farmington, Maine, Erwin had been well liked by the girls at social gatherings. While in the Navy, he received a good deal of mail from the girls, who said he reminded them of Mickey Rooney.

This valentine (below), sent to Erwin February 4, 1943, was from a girl he knew then as Florence Adams. A slightly excerpted version of the letter she wrote with the valentine follows (punctuation and spelling appear as they did in the letter handwritten in pencil).

Hi! dear,

How’s the sailor? Fine I hope. I’m still coughing. Am working Dr. Lovejoy’s awhile. Jeannette is having a vacation. Having some time off at office. Get more pay but it’s harder work. I like it quite well though. It’s nice to know about different things, don’t you think so.

Well, Arvilla’s friend Ralph has been drafted in the Navy so I can tease her about the Navy now. Takes his exam Monday. He called today. Is coming over tomorrow nite for the weekend. Wish you were going to be here too! Every time I see a sailor my heart goes a little faster just hoping it might be a certain someone??!!

…Been addressing Valentines tonite sending out a few. Clayton sent me some snapshots that were taken down where he is. Have you heard from him?

I have a film to finish up in my Camera. Going to send you some pictures when I get them finished up.

How’s everything going? Studies hard? What do you hear from Clinton? Any better news or more interesting than you hear from Farmington!?

Suppose I got to put out the light. Have to go earlier now, 0745. Get fire started before anyone comes in.

Well, darling, Good-nite, hope to be hearing from you soon and I do mean soon. Think your slipping a little Huh?

Lots of Love & Kisses

Always Florence

 

At the end of the war, Erwin and many others went aboard the USS Missouri, the flagship of the 5th Fleet, and they were there onboard when Japan formally surrendered in a ceremony on the battleship’s deck.

Although Erwin didn’t end up with Florence—he and his wife, Mary, were wed shortly after the war—he did stay in touch with Florence’s brother, Linwood, who lived about a mile from him in Pittsfield, Massachusetts and shared Erwin’s interest in radio.

Uncle Erwin is now 86 and still lives in Pittsfield.

—Rachel Bryant
St. Albans, Maine

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A Thousand Delivery Days

Forty years ago, I was a teenage paperboy for the Akron Beacon Journal in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. Regardless of the weather, my compatriots and I lugged large canvas bags of newspapers, door to door, early on Sunday mornings and major holidays and in the afternoons the rest of the week.

On Tuesdays, we each had to go pay our bill for the previous week’s newspapers. Yes, we had to pay for those papers, and the company’s share was about 75 percent of the price. From our cut, we had to buy all of our supplies.

We also collected from the customers on Saturday morning. If a customer didn’t pay, that was our problem. In nearly 3 years, I only had two customers move away without paying, and I was able to track one of them down. Boy, was she surprised when I showed up at her new home looking for my money!

Although a paperboy might use a bike or car to get his bundles positioned along his route, deliveries were usually made on foot.

No plastic bags were used back then. Thick editions, such as Sundays and Wednesdays, were rubber-banded. Rubber bands were carried along the route, forked between the first two fingers on your hand, and pulled down over the end of the rolled paper as one lurched from one house to the next.

The other days of the week the papers were folded, with the technique varying with the thickness of the paper. The ability to fold a newspaper so that it would stay folded when thrown was the mark of an experienced paperboy.

I would throw newspapers underhanded with a reverse flip so the paper wouldn’t cartwheel when it landed in front of the door, which is where most customers wanted it. Tossing the paper onto the lawn or in the bushes or under a car just wasn’t acceptable and would get a paperboy a complaint letter from the company. I never got a complaint for any of the 100,000 papers I delivered in my 1,000 days as a paperboy.

A company truck would drop the bundles for two or three routes at a time at designated corners, but on Sunday, several routes would be dumped together. The paperboys were usually respectful of the other guy’s bundles, although there was an exception.

One wintry Sunday morning, I saw another paperboy and his helper rummaging through the bundles and tossing any that weren’t theirs into the surrounding snow. I took it upon myself to forcefully teach them some paperboy ethics, and we had no problems after that.

Another day, I saw a man walk by and steal a paper from my bundle. He was about the size of a Coke machine and maybe 10 years older than I, but I still went after him and I got my paper back. I guess that was the first time I put myself in jeopardy on a matter of principle. Afterward, I felt relieved but proud. I never did tell my folks about that incident.

All this work and adventure netted me about $16 for an 11-hour week. My mother made me put $10 of it in a savings account, which I used a few years later to buy my first car, a used 1965 Ford Country Sedan station wagon.

Even with this enforced saving, I still had $6 of weekly pocket money, which was plenty for a kid back in the ‘60s.

—Bob Harvey
Denver, Colorado

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My Grandfather’s Life

I wrote this poem about my grandfather’s life in 2005, when I was in the eighth grade. My grandfather had a hard childhood. When he read the poem, it moved him to tears. Maybe some of your readers had similar childhoods and would enjoy reading my poem:

In 1925, the first child of Allen was born
But after three other siblings,
there was a mother to mourn.

Brought up the old Southern way,
At the crack of dawn he awoke with nothing to say

Growing up in the life of a sharecroppers’ toil,
Chopping and weeding, shoveling soil.

There was little or no money to be had,
And many times children’s faces were sad.

An aunt told his father, “You can’t raise children right.”
He heard them talking in the middle of the night.

But his dad said, “I’m not shipping them away,
They’re a gift from God, and they’re here to stay.”

So he knew his dad’s love would see them all through,
And soon a new mother came to stay, too.

High school came then, but the work stayed just as tough,
Now there was double the load, which made things rough.

And there was news every day of his country at war,
There were deaths of his classmates in countries afar.

The draft took them all off as he watched the war rage,
’Til he said to himself, “I won’t see old age...”

He finished up school as the war churned to an end,
But the Army still called, and they still needed men.

By ship he went off to the distant Far East,
For three long years, then he came home with relief.

He found a job that he could carry,
And the woman he wanted to marry.

Together they raised their own little girl,
They thought her as precious as a pearl.

Soon, too soon, their baby was grown,
And one day she had a husband of her own.

Each day he prayed for forgiveness of sins,
And one day had grandchildren, best of all, twins.

—Patrick Cox
Chapel Hill, North Carolina

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Time Capsule Trivia

Can you guess the year of these five historical happenings? The answer is given below, but no peeking!

1. The North Atlantic Treaty Organization, commonly known as NATO, is established to counter Soviet aggression and safeguard the Atlantic community.
2. A new song among the hit records is Gene Autry’s Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
3. The first daytime soap opera on television appears with the premiere of These Are My Children, but the 15-minute, live-broadcast show lasts just a little over a month.
4. In China, after years of civil war, the Soviet-supported Communists led by Mao Zedong proclaim the People’s Republic of China, with Beijing as the capital.
5. War movies are big, with Gregory Peck starring in Twelve O’Clock High and John Wayne as the big name in Sands of Iwo Jima.

Were you fooled by the popular war movies? They actually premiered in 1949, long after World War II had ended. Bet you had the right answer anyway.

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Over the Back Fence

There was a man in our town of Foley, Minnesota by the name of “Windy” Adams who never wore a coat in wintertime. People often asked him, “How do you keep healthy in this cold weather?”

“I have a secret,” he replied. “I never take a bath all winter.”

My dad said, “That’s no secret. No one gets close enough to him to give him a malady.”

—Henry C. Towne
Kent, Washington

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A Thought to Remember:

Snowflakes are such fragile things, but look what happens when they stick together!

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