Aftermarket Amendments

Not content to confine their remarks to the reverse of the card, these senders added commentary to the image itself—even altering it.

Just in case the recipient didn’t know that Temple Beth-El wasn’t Baptist….

The abuser’s nationality labeled…
the message offers little insight as to why.


Note the arrow on the picture—did he actually know Grace, or is this just more postal puffery? And...does the person to whom the arrow points look like his name would be "Grace"?


Also note—despite GMG’s generous suggestion that Mr. Goodrich add the stamp to his collection, the sly head waiter metered the thing.


The meaning of this 1908 card? And of the amendment? No clue. All I know is, it would appear to be an evil mattress.

Despite her downer attitude, Nellie of Arlington, NJ chose this jolly card to send Mr. George Sproul of Cherryfield, Maine in 1914.



(The upside down portion of her inscription reads: “It is dreadfully hot here just now, it’s almost impossible to live.”) She should have been spending her money on Prozac, not postcards.


After I had snagged some cards a few years back, I realized a number of them were sent to a Mr. A.W. Hallender of St. Peter, MN. I wish now I’d gone through the entire shoebox to purchase all the ones that were sent by Mr. Hallander’s wag of a friend between 1941 and 1952. Here is a sampling....

(1941) Not sent from Cuba, but from Minneapolis. The meaning of the little homunculi at bottom? Mysterious. As is the reference to “The Brainerd Alliance.”


(1944) The political commentary makes perfect sense…but what of the quotation marks around the word “strangers”?


By 1952, he had refined his technique, turning this ordinary ribald image into a virtual political palimpsest with typing and intaglio. On the other hand, his message is subdued, though his old sparkle shows through in the return address.