Gerald and Blanche bring you Channel Light Apartments

Today we have an unused 64-year-old postcard of a Florida real-estate venture known as Channel Light Apartments.

The "Genuine Kodachrome Reproduction" card, published and copyrighted by L.L. Cook Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, shows the exterior of a cheery-looking, light-yellow apartment building, with a few people lounging out front.

The back of the postcard gives us the following pre-printed information:

CHANNEL LIGHT APARTMENTS
2639 No. Ocean Blvd.
Pompano Beach, Florida
Highway A1A at Hillsboro Inlet. Private Ocean Beach.
Deep sea fishing fleet for your convenience nearby.
Gerald & Blanche Gelatt — Owners-Managers.

Underneath that, someone has typed "Boat At Your Disposal." I don't know how many promotional postcards Gerald and Blanche had, but it must have taken a long time to go through and type that onto all of them.

There are only a half-dozen references to Channel Light Apartments in the Fort Lauderdale News, all dating between 1952 and 1961. The June 1952 mention is the fictitious-name filing for the business venture. In a 1956 news item, Gerald Gelatt is referred to as "Jerry." And a 1961 advertisement lists the Gelatts and their business on a petition related to a potential Pompano Beach sewer project.

Gerald Gelatt served at least two terms on the area Zoning Board of Appeals, according to a 1968 newspaper brief. That might be related to the fact that, in 1964, Gelatt, then a member of the Hillsboro Shores Improvement Association, made a rezoning request to add docks north of Pompano Beach's fishing fleet to accommodate 16 boats. The article about this issue, in the January 27, 1964, issue of the Fort Lauderdale News, was headlined "Boat Report To Stir Tiff." (Well played, copy editor!)

Meanwhile, here's a fishing report from the August 16, 1947, edition of The Palm Beach Post that shows that Gerald and Blanche were both anglers and also that they moved from Iowa to Florida at some point in their lives.

As for their ultimate fates, I think this photograph from Blanche Isabel Stewart Gelatt's Find A Grave page is pretty conclusive evidence that he lived from 1904 to 1980 and was buried at sea, while she lived from 1906 to 1989 was was buried back in Iowa. (This grave is in Aspen Grove Cemetery in Burlington, Iowa.)

"A Child's Garden of Verses" and the work of Eulalie

The Platt and Munk Company apparently found great success over the decades in publishing editions of Robert Louis Stevenson's whimsical poetry collection, A Child's Garden of Verses. In fact, one statistic that's floating around the great unvetted Internet is that P&M sold in excess of two million copies of the book.

This hardcover edition was published in 1932, and I want to share some of the wonderful illustrations by Eulalie Minfred Banks (1895-1999), who went simply by Eulalie. According to her 1999 obituary in The Independent, she earned a flat fee of $950 for her work on this book, which I believe was first published in 1929. That's the equivalent of more than $13,000 in modern dollars, which is a pretty nifty payment. But, in taking a flat fee, she might have left a lifetime worth of much greater royalties on the table. Especially if the figure of two million book sales is accurate.

Of course, that wasn't the only work she did for Platt and Munk. She had a long relationship with the company. According to her Los Angeles Times obituary, she "churned out endless animals for books of nursery rhymes, fairy tales and folk stories that have been reprinted for generations of children."

She also painted murals for Hollywood stars, including Charlie Chaplin.

And there is this wonderful — and, for this blog, relevant — tidbit, also from her Los Angeles Times obituary:

Banks was outraged in 1983 when she was asked to remove gnomes, elves and fairies from a mural she did for a decorator's showcase house in Pasadena.

"They told me the children didn't know what they were," she told The Times afterward. "It's cruel [how] children don't read anymore. ... Now they sit and watch television."

Asked what she would say to a modern child, she said: "Do believe in fairy tales. Hang on to the magic. Never lose your sense of wonder and whimsy, or you'll lose a part of your soul."

When a woman who lived to age 104 says this, you should listen.

So here's a chance for you to enjoy and hold onto some of that whimsy, via Eulalie's work for A Child's Garden of Verses. Here are the endpapers, a pair of line illustrations and a gorgeous full-color work.

Jazzy advertisements from a 1961 issue of The New Yorker

For just 25 cents, the July 22, 1961, issue of The New Yorker included a bunch of great reading, including an essay on Kuwait, book and jazz reviews and some international commentary filed from Geneva.

There are also, of course, the cartoons — I might do a separate post on them at some point; they're such a cultural time capsule! — and the advertisements, catering to upscale readers who like to travel, drink and enjoy other vicarious pleasures.

Anatol Kovarsky, who did the cover illustration for this issue, died in 2016 at age 97. A 2013 piece in The New Yorker mentions that Kovarsky was still imagining and creating art late in life.

Today, though, I wanted to share some of the advertisements from this 57-year-old issue. I think you'll find some of them to be a hoot.

American Airlines

Zenith

Eastman Kodak Company

Utell International

Avis Rent-A-Car

Air France Jet

Air France Jet (detail of 3 panels)

From the readers: Treasured copy of "Andersen's Fairy Tales"

Jenny, contacting me through Goodreads, recently sent this query:

Hi there Chris,
I was trying to find the value of an extremely old OLD book. Then I came across your book that your wife gave you for Christmas and it looked very similar to the one I have. Unfortunately I am not good on the computer for the most part so I would not know how to send you a picture on the computer, only on text (sad, I know).

On the cover is a number 0742 in small print. On the cover also is, "Charles E. Graham & Co. New York. Made in the USA"

On the inside second page it says, "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales." Then, "Translated from the Danish by Carl Siewers." Then, "Charles E. Graham & Co. Newark, N.J. -- New York." On the fifth page it says, "Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales. The Tinder-box."

The cover is in pretty rough shape for sure!! The inside pages (not including the first page that is torn off, but is there) are in decent shape. They are the color of paper bags from the grocery store. At first I thought it was typed by hand because each letter is indented a little on the paper. The binding is tight and I don't dare open the book all the way because the paper will crack off because it is so old and dry ... but to me it is a true treasure!!!

My parents were antique book dealers in their own stores, renting space from nice stores in Minnesota, and then online. My sweet father passed away when I was 29 years old (I saw you are 47 and so am I) and now my mother is in assisted living. She had to leave her house after breaking her hip and as I was going through the THOUSANDS of books they had stored in the house and huge garage, I found this gem of a book just as I was about to leave the house for the last time.

I have tried researching it, but your book is the ONLY one that resembled my book.

Is there any information you could share with me about your book or mine? I don't think I will be selling it, but would love to know the value of it. S.O.S. Chris!! You are my only hope to learn about this old of a book by Hans Andersen.

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Chris says: Three things to start with: (1) Thank you for taking the time to write to me and share your story. I love hearing tales of discoveries such as this one. (2) Please understand that, in book-sleuthing matters, I am a rank amateur, just like Christopher Reeve in The Remains of the Day, and cannot be considered an expert or final word. There are folks who do this for a living. I just dabble on the Internet. (3) The most important thing you wrote was "to me it is a true treasure!!!" For so many books, the value is what we assign to them, based on memories, experiences and personal connections. You clearly have a strong connection to this book, given the family business and how you discovered it.

So, starting off, it seems as if you and I have nearly identical copies of Andersen's Fairy Tales. The only differences, based on your notes:

• The number printed on the bottom of the cover is 0546 on mine and 0742 on yours. I'm not sure what that number represents.
• Your book makes reference to Newark, New Jersey, on the title page. Mine does not.

When I did my original (brief) research on this book a few years ago, I could not determine a date of publication. I guessed that it was "likely between 1880 to 1910." I still think that's correct, probably toward the later part of that range. It's almost certain that there were multiple editions, each slightly different, during that time period.

I found a listing for a book similar to ours on Amazon.com. The cover is identical. This one is listed as being published by Graham & Matlack. Neither of our books make reference to Matlack, which is an interesting clue. I found a 1918 obituary for Lee R. Matlack in a journal called "The Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer" that states:

"Lee R. Matlack, formerly a partner in the firm of Graham & Matlack, publishers in New York, died at his home in Philadelphia on August 21st, aged forty-five.

"Mr. Matlack was well known to the booksellers of the country as a salesman. While a boy he started in the book business with the old firm of Porter & Coates. Afterward he went with the J.B. Lippincott Company, and for many years he travelled for the Henry Altemus Company. Ten years ago he became a salesman for Hurst & Co. and then, in 1912, he joined with Charles E. Graham and established the publishing firm of Graham & Matlack. Genial and always honorable and square, he made hosts of friends, who will sadly miss him."

If we are to take that obituary information at face value, then the Graham & Matlack editions of Andersen's Fairy Tales were published in 1912 or after, while our editions are sometime prior to 1912, before Charles Graham added his partner.

Whether it's just Graham or Graham & Matlack, I don't think they can be considered top-flight or prestige publishers. They focused, perhaps, on works that did not fall under copyright and that could provide maximum profit. A website by Stephen Railton and the University of Virginia that focuses on the history of Uncle Tom's Cabin contains a short mention of a Graham & Matlack edition of that book. You can see that the cover design and binding are similar to that of Andersen's Fairy Tales. Railton writes:

"This cheaply illustrated and printed book is a good example of how much borrowing went on among many of the publishers who brought out versions of Uncle Tom's Cabin in the decades after the copyright lapsed. Although the only author credited is Stowe herself, the text below was almost certainly derived (without acknowledgment) from the adaptation 'by Mary E. Blaine' published by Barse and Hopkins in their PLEASANT HOUR SERIES children's book, which earlier (also without acknowledgment) had been derived from an adaption by Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall's c.1904 TOLD TO THE CHILDREN EDITION. In addition, Matlack and Graham re-used the dozen black-and-white illustrations from this edition in their PICTURE BOOK version of the novel, intended for younger readers."

You can see some other Matlack & Graham editions, all with colorful and imaginative covers, at this eBay search.

So what is the value of our editions of Andersen's Fairy Tales? In terms of the vintage-book market, I would say it's not much. Both of our books, especially as you have described yours, are in fair to poor shape. Tears and damage and brittle pages matter to buyers. Browsing various websites (Amazon, AbeBooks, etc.), the few copies I could find are selling for less than $10 in most cases. A couple copies have higher prices ($60-$70), but I'm almost certain those are pie-in-the-sky figures and that it's unlikely there would be a buyer at that price.

And so I would return to what I stated at the beginning. The only value of these books that matters is what they mean to us personally. That's something you cannot put a price on. Congratulations on your find, and I'm glad that it's a treasure in your eyes.

Postcard of Goat Island Bridge at Niagara Falls

This postcard, mailed from Niagara Falls to Philadelphia in July 1913, features the Goat Island Bridge.¹ The descriptive text on the back of this H.H. Tammen Company card states:

GOAT ISLAND BRIDGE, NIAGARA FALLS
A beautiful bridge structure, one of the sights of Niagara, taking the place of several crude wooden affairs that previously served as passageways. The mingling of quiet pastoral scenery and the madly rushing torrent of the river below form the rarest scenic combination in the world.

Goat Island Bridge takes you between the United States and Goat Island.² Today, it is reserved for the Niagara Scenic Trolley, and cars are not permitted. Goat Island, part of the United States, is a major tourist destination but still retains a fair amount of undeveloped woodland (with foot trails passing through).

Perhaps the unlikeliest attraction on the island is the Tesla Monument, a statue of inventor Nikola Tesla that was gifted to the United States by the government of Yugoslavia in 1976. The reason for it being located there, according to the Tesla Memorial Society of New York, is that "Nikola Tesla and George Westinghouse built the first hydro-electric power plant in Niagara Falls and started the electrification of the world."

To wrap up, here's the July 1913 note that was scrawled onto this postcard:

"We came across the bridge to view the falls by night. Are sitting on the stone rail. Want to see them by moonlight. We had a very tasty supper and I enjoyed what I ate — but my appetite has not come back. We see a very great improvement and find quite a busy town. The place is full.
Ella."

Footnotes
1. Also happening in July 1913: A huge gathering in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, marks the 50th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg; Tony Wilding wins his fourth straight Wimbledon crown (though he would be killed in World War I less than two years later); "spirit communication" with "Patience Worth" begins; future President Gerald Ford is born and given the name Leslie Lynch King Jr.; and a motorcade of sixty vehicles travels from Hyattsville, Maryland, to the United States Capitol carrying a petition with 200,000 signatures of persons favoring an amendment to the U.S. Constitution to allow women to vote.
2. I am not 100 percent sure whether the Goat Island Bridge pictured on this postcard is the same one that's there today. There's a good chance it's been upgraded or replaced during the past century.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Never bringing this book into the house.

Presenting More Tales of Unease, a paperback anthology edited by John Burke and published in 1969 by Pan Books (as you can tell by the friendly-flute-player logo in the upper right). This probably provides some good insight into how disturbed the folks of 1969 were.

You can see the table of contents here.

Fortunately, used copies of this book start at $9,000 at Amazon, probably because they're all cursed and necromancers can use them to open the gates of Hell. But, hey, if you see a cheap copy at a bookstore, definitely buy it and then stick it in a bag in your cellar until you can flip it for enough money to fund a year of college for your kid.

Catalog for 1928 A.J. Pennypacker sale of antique furniture

"Largest Sale ever held in the State of Pennsylvania" claims the cover of this 24-page staplebound catalog from 90 years ago.

Antiques dealer A.J. Pennypacker's four-day whirlwind sale was slated for October 3-6, 1928, in Pennsburg, Pennsylvania.

The catalog is filled with photos of dressers, chairs, tables, painted chests, bottles, tableware, and more chairs.

Just two years before this sale, in October 1926, Pennypacker had been involved in a bit of harrowing misfortune, as documented by The Morning Call of Allentown:

AUTO LOAD OF ANTIQUES
BURNS WHEN IT HITS POLE
A.J. Pennpacker, Driver of Car, Had Just Made Purchase

An automobile load of antiques being transported by A.J. Pennypacker from Easton to his store at 601 Main street, Pennsburg, was burned up when the engine of the machine caught fire after it skidded into a pole at the eastern end of Bethlehem at about 5 o'clock yesterday afternoon.

In the collection, valued at $500, which Mr. Pennypacker had just purchased at Easton, was a picture, "George Washington at Philadelphia." Other articles were mostly of old and rare chinaware. An old-fashioned, long-handled, fire shovel and two pairs of antique fire tongs were the only pieces salvaged.

A loss of $500 would be the equivalent of more than $7,000 today, but it might not have been as bad of a setback as you might imagine. An April 1931 newspaper article, again from The Morning Call, paints a picture of a very prosperous antiques-dealing business for Pennypacker.

Pennsburg Antique Collector
Made Many Famous Transactions
A.J. Pennypacker Has Annual Sales That Have Brought to Pennsburg Many of the Leading Collectors Throughout the Country

[Snip] ... In offering the type of antiques that are both useful and ornamental to residents of Pennsburg and vicinity we find that A.J. Pennpacker, of 501 Main street, has established himself as one of the foremost representatives of his community.

[Snip] ... His annual sales are an event that bring buyers from all over the country. Representatives of some of the world's foremost antiques collectors have attended these sales and Mr. Pennypacker's reputation for good judgment and straightforward dealing has become a byword in this section.

He has been affiliated with this line of endeavor for twelve years and during this period of time has gained a conversance with his field that sets him apart from the average dealer.

Many of the most notable sales in this entire area have been handled by Mr. Pennypacker. To Francis T. Garlin he sold a highboy for $17,000. It was brought from Texas by Mr. Pennypacker.

Another highboy brought $12,000 and was purchased by I. Sacks, of Philadelphia.

Mr. Kern of Philadelphia paid $16,000 for four chairs and a like number brought $25,000 when sold to H.F. Dupont, of Wilmington, Delaware.

[Snip] ... Mr. Pennypacker served in France and is now a member of the American Legion. ... He is a member of the L.O.O.M., of Allentown, and the Orioles, of Boyertown. ...

As just one example, let's assume that $17,000 highboy was sold in 1930, as the Great Depression was getting underway. That would be the equivalent of a quarter-million-dollar piece of furniture today.

Also, the "I. Sacks" is almost certainly a misspelling of legendary dealer Israel Sack. And, yeah, Henry Francis du Pont was kind of rich and famous, too, and could probably use his pocket money to buy four chairs for $25,000.

So let's backtrack now to this catalog and the 1928 sale. In the introduction to the collection of photographs, Pennypacker writes: "This will be one of the largest sales of Early American Antiques, mostly Pennsylvania pieces, ever held in Pennsylvania. ... I am certain it will be worthwhile for any one to come to this sale. I guarantee each and every piece to be genuine and as represented."

And then there is his list. Take a deep breath, because this is just part of it...

• 25 corner cupboards
• 7 Grandfather clocks
• 25 decorated chests
• 10 slant-top desks
• 60 bureaus
• 40 Dutch cupboards
• 4 Welsh or pewter cupboards
• 25 drop-leaf tables, including Chippendale and Hepplewhite
• 25 Chippendale mirrors
• 35 walnut blanket chests
• 15 bench tables
• 20 day beds
• 15 dough trough tables
• 500 bottles
• 200 pink luster pieces
• 75 sawtooth or pineapple glass
• 50 pieces thumb fruit glass
• 100 lamps
• 35 pieces painted tinware
• 200 goblets
• 25 pieces Bennington pottery
• 200 pieces Sandwich
• 50 pieces blue glass
• 75 candlesticks
• 40 pieces Bohemian glass
• 75 pieces Spatterware, some very rare
• 400 Currier & Ives prints, some very rare
• 50 lanterns
• 300 homespun linen sheets

Here are some additional photographs from the 1928 Pennypacker catalog...

This gives me flashbacks to the basement of the Wallingford house.

Story time: The Bizarre Mysteries of Deep Creek Lake

Fresh off our recent success with "A Second Chance at Love," a historical fairy tale featuring Napoleon, Ashar and I turned to a different genre — the ghost story — for our latest story based on a vintage postcard. The postcard we used is a Curt Teich & Co. linen card, one of their series of 10 moonlight scenes, featuring Deep Creek Lake, near Oakland, Maryland. Fair warning: You might not want to read this before bedtime, or on a dark and stormy night.

The Bizarre Mysteries of Deep Creek Lake

Cody Grayson and Zachariah Phoenix, both college students, arrived at Deep Creek Lake just as it was getting dark. It was autumn, so it was chilly but not too cold. They had come to the lake to find out if all the stories people were saying about the place were true.

They were best friends, and they planned to camp overnight near the lake, so that they could explore and investigate. When they put down their backpack, Cody heard a howl -- maybe it was a wolf? -- in the woods.

“Zac, how many people did you say have gone missing here?” Cody asked, his voice a bit unsteady.

“About four,” Zac replied. “Why?”

“Well, I just wonder if the stories are true. And it does seem a little spooky out here,” Cody said.

Zac didn’t want to scare his friend any more than he was already scared, so he didn’t answer. He believed that people had gone missing. And he was curious to find answers. Zac was just as nervous as Cody, but he was doing a good job of hiding it.

They put down their tent and backpacks. Zac opened his backpack and took out a flashlight.

“So what was the first weird story that came out of this place?” Cody asked.

“A few years ago, there was a girl who went by Jess, that was just like you and me, and she loved the outdoors. She had a boat her father made for her by hand. So one day, in late October, she came to the lake to get away from her family, because they had a fight and the outdoors were her escape. So she came to Deep Creek Lake with her boat on her trailer on the back of her truck. It was a colder and windier night, and she got to the lake, got her boat off the trailer, drug it from land to the water, got in it, and sailed off into the lake. And she was never heard from after that.”

Cody gulped.

“She just disappeared?” Cody asked. “How does a person just disappear? Maybe her boat just sank. Did they look for the boat?”

“The police tried to get local residents to help with the search, but they refused, because they were terrified of the legends,” Zac said.

“What legends?” Cody asked.

“The locals say this lake is haunted by a spirit called Tizheruk, who was originally an Indian maiden who died horribly. She got decapitated while she was alive and her body parts, some burned, were scattered all around the lake. Now her ghost haunts the area.”

Zac paused. He looked at Cody.

“And maybe it does more than haunt,” Zac added.

At that moment, Zac turned on the flashlight, which startled Cody.

Even more startling was that fact that the light of the flashlight was shining upon a third person. Or, perhaps, a thing.

Zac and Cody froze. Cody tried to get a good look at what was standing a few yards in front of them.

It was a young woman, a few years older than them. She was wearing a blue long-sleeve shirt, a black T-shirt over it and white jeans. Her hair was a little longer than shoulder length, and dark brown. There seemed to be a weird glow around her.

She stepped forward.

“I’ve been very lonely,” she said. “I was hoping someone would come and visit.”

Zac’s hand was shaking, causing the flashlight to bob slightly up and down.

The woman took a step toward Zac. She reached out for his hand, but before she could touch it, Cody jumped between them, pushing Zac to the ground. Zac dropped the flashlight, which rolled away from them. Now the full moon provided the only light.

“What did you do that for?” Zac yelled from the ground.

“Maybe it’s the evil spirit! Maybe it’s trying to get you and then it’ll come after me!”

Cody whirled around to face the woman.

“Who are you? Explain yourself,” he said, trying not to show his fear.

“My name is Jess,” she said. “I went boating after I left my house, because I was mad at my parents. I don’t remember what happened after that. What happened to me?”

“That’s impossible,” Zac said, standing up and brushing the dirt off his black jeans. “Jess disappeared three years ago. She’s gone. How are you possibly Jess?”

“Do you have any ID?” Cody asked, picking up the flashlight.

The woman reached into her back pocket and pulled out a beat-up wallet. She opened it, showing a driver’s license. It had her picture, and the name Jessica Gold.

Zac and Cody both gasped.

“It’s not possible,” Cody said.

Zac looked closely at the woman. She certainly looked like she could be Jess. And there was that driver’s license as proof. But what about the weird glow they had seen around her body? It made Zac suspicious. Then he came up with a plan. He pulled Cody close and whispered in his ear.

“We should be careful and, just in case, be ready to run,” Zac said to his friend.

Zac turned back toward the woman.

“We have all been very worried about you, Jess,” he said. “Just tell me one more thing, though. How did you get your boat? The one you brought out to the lake.”

The woman stared at them for a moment. Then she spoke.

“My head is a little foggy,” she said. “I can’t remember what store I got it from right now.”

“A-ha! It wasn’t from a store!” Cody yelled, pointing a finger. “Your own father built it. Surely the real Jess would remember that!”

The woman hissed. Her face -- its face -- flickered for a moment, as if that wasn’t its real face at all. It took a step toward Cody.

“RUN!” yelled Zac, and the two of them dashed for their car.

As they ran, they couldn’t hear anyone -- or anything -- behind them. But they definitely sensed that something was behind them, and they kept running to the car.

Zac and Cody, both absolutely terrified at this point, quickly got into their car. Zac pulled out the keys and tried to start the car with a shaky hand. It finally, after the third try, started. As he slammed his foot on the gas, they both heard a high-pitched, angry scream. It was very close.

Off they drove. Cody had to keep reminding Zac not to speed on the dirt road leading away from the lake. Finally, they got back to the highway. After a few miles, they came upon a well-lit gas station. Zac pulled over and actually exhaled for what seemed like the first time in a long time.

The gas-station attendant, an old man, walked slowly over to their car. He was Native American and was wearing an old-stained jumpsuit. He chin was covered with a little bit of gray stubble. He looked like he had seen a lot of things during his long lifetime.

“What’s wrong, fellas,” he asked.

They told him what they had just been through, what they had just narrowly escaped.

He nodded wisely and looked up at the sky.

“You’re the lucky ones,” he said. “She always comes out on a full moon.”

“She?” Zac said, nervously.

“Tizheruk.”

THE END

* * *
Addendum: Here's the book cover that we designed for this tale...