Jeffrey Hantover
Spectacle lynchings were preserved in photographs that were made into postcards sold openly in stores and city newspapers, sent through the mail, and presumably displayed in homes.
Bob,
Me on a postcard! Right there in front. Grinning like a cat with a bowl of cream. My new bowler hat and my red tie, though you can’t see the color. I’m not bragging, but I tie a good knot. My grandfather taught me. We sure were having a swell time. Show it to Connie—boy, will that give her a thrill. I didn’t have to ask Mr. Jameson for the day off. He closed the shop. Gosh, the whole town was there.
Your pal, Dexter
My dear Gertie,
We were packed tight as a barrel of salt fish. Shoulder to shoulder, you couldn’t move barely an inch. Just a sea of hats as far as the eye could see. Horace lifted up Constance on his shoulders so she could get a better view. I am somewhere in the back with the ladies in their bonnets. We didn’t want to get our going-to-church dresses crushed. I wore my Sunday best. Horace thought it bad taste not to. I got me a nice souvenir booklet with photos and postcards.
Fondly, Helen
Dear Sis,
Hope your lumbago has not been acting up. We’re all fine here. Get your magnifying glass out and look for your nephew Charlie there in the right-hand corner. He’s wearing his going-to-meeting hat—the one he keeps special for Easter services. He does love that straw hat. Kind of makes him look extra special handsome, don’t you think? Quite a crowd. Simon Lancaster, who runs the print shop on Elm, took the photo and printed these cards. Selling them for a quarter. Says he’s going to share the money with the Advent Methodist Ladies’ Auxiliary. I’m not holding my breath. That man squeezes his pennies till they holler. Running out of space. Hope you can read my tiny writing.
Love, Betty
Dear Aunt Ida,
I baked an apple pie before we headed into town for the excitement. It came out real good. Not as good as yours, but pretty good. I know, your secret is your secret. We did a double grace thanking God for his bountiful blessings and for our dear Ida for the best apple pie in all the world. We can’t wait to see you at Thanksgiving and sit around the table holding hands and bowing our hands in prayer for the blessings of our Creator.
Your niece, Beth
Lettie,
You can’t miss Glenda, right there in the front in the dress you bought her for her birthday. It is one of her favorites. She thinks herself quite the young lady at the ripe old age of eleven. Lou Smithers, our neighbor down the road, is standing right next to her in his straw boater—he is quite the looker. Twenty-five cents for one postcard seems like highway robbery, but it was a day worth remembering, and our Glenda smack-dap in the middle of it all.
Lizzie
Dear Lloyd,
“Service Above Self.”
Quite a crowd and a great many of us Rotarians turned out, didn’t we? Respectable men of good character have to stand up and be counted. Just a reminder that the next luncheon meeting of the Rotary Club will be held on Tuesday the 17th at 12:15 pm at the Sinclair Hotel. The featured speaker of the day will be Prof. Eugene Slater of Springfield College, who will speak on “The Promise of Eugenics and the Future of America.” Hope to see you there.
Your brother in service, R.J.
Dad,
I’m worn ragged, limp as an old dish rag, but business couldn’t be better. I’ve been in the studio ten days and nights. Gulping black coffee and eating slices of white bread slathered in butter. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve made. For sure, thousands. Twenty-five cents and folks can’t get enough of them. I hear they’re selling them all over the state. A friend in Terre Haute called to say they were in the windows of all the drugstores. Set up my tripod in a good place right smack in front of the tree. Give mom my love and tell her no more work in the garden till she feels better.
Love, Simon
Myrtle,
I tell you it was one special night. Hundreds of Kodaks clicking—you would have thought it was cicadas chirping on a summer evening in August. Owen Jr. hollered himself hoarse. But the wind was blowing the smoke everywhere. I had to wash my dress to get the smell of the smoke out. That’ll teach me. Next time I won’t wear a new dress. You and Dick come visit soon.
Love, Dot
P.S. Pardon if I brag, but Junior got first prize in the “I am an American” American Legion essay contest and won himself a $25 savings bond. One proud mother here.
Dear Margie,
Quite the crowd. They ran an extra train to handle us all. I packed ham-and-cheese sandwiches for Paul and the kids. Came back and we all fell straight to bed. A fellow had set up a printing press right there, and we got ourselves a bunch of cards before we left. Can you believe I’m going back to town tomorrow? It’s the annual Golden Rule Sale when all the downtown merchants reduce their prices. Hoping for some real bargains for the kids.
Love to all, Sis
Tom,
That’s what happens when they annoy our young girls.
Ben
Dr. Abraham Washington,
Stay in your place. We are watching you.
The Committee