Monday, August 3, 2015


            Postcards are the poor man’s souvenir of the poorer man’s way to visit far off places. Whoever thought of creating them and selling them, was a true genius. What better way to remember a vacation spot, a spot that has impacted a life, or to share where a person has been than the lowly postcard.
            When my mother-in-law died, I inherited several hundred of these lovely memories sent by others. Then when my father passed away, I inherited nearly half as many again. I decided when I was sorting through some things, I would post them on Face Book each morning and share them with others rather than letting them rot and mildew in storage.
            I can almost imagine the number of people who have travelled vicariously through those mailed masterpieces. The person who bought the card must have been impressed by the picture embossed on its surface. The different mail sorters, when the sorters were human. The postman who diligently sorter and delivered the souvenir to its intended receiver. Then the person to whom the card was sent.
            Now, new generations can see the cards. The earliest that I have found were from the early 1900’s and are drawn and painted to be printed as remembrances of a bygone place and with a bygone process.
            Among the selection, I have Christmas, Easter, Valentines, and Thanksgiving cards. I have ones from foreign countries and from vacation destinations all across the United States. Some were created to recall the times America went to war, of boot camps, airplanes, mess halls, and distant battle fields. There are several that are in Japanese and I have no idea what they say.
            Canada and the United Stated are well represented in the collection. Some are of buildings and places that no longer exist, except on the front of a postcard. With the collection, not only can I travel to distant lands, but because of their distant past postmarks, you and I can travel in time as well.

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