Autographs & Letters

"All letters, methinks, should be as free and easy as one's discourse, not studied as an oration, nor made up of hard words like a charm."

                              Dorothy Osborne (Lady Temple)  1627-1695



In my last post, I mentioned brief interactions with people of fame or notoriety but the written word stays with us in perpetuity, often requiring the care and conservation of an archivist.  While most of us don't have the financial means of succeeding at this endeavor, reading a few articles or watching the appropriate instructional YouTubes can go a long way in keeping these treasures.  These precious possessions are more capable of telling a story than chance meetings and short conversations, whether they are your own or belong to your family and loved ones.

When I was in sixth grade, passing up to Junior High School, it was all the fashion to buy a small leather-bound "autograph book", in which school chums, teachers, and family would write short notes of "wisdom" to help you succeed in life, followed by a flourishing signature, always in cursive (a lost art)!)  While my autograph book is long gone, along with my baseball card collection (that, today, would bring me a small fortune), I do remember a few jottings such as:
"Dear Sandy, as you go through life, always keep your eye on the donut and not upon the hole!"
"Roses are red, violets are blue, you've got a nose like a B-22!"
"There are small ships, there are large ships, but there's no ship like friendship".
And on it went...on white, green, pink, and yellow pages.  The comments of the teachers were encouraging and often inspirational.  It's funny how, 63 years later, I can still remember each teacher's name from kindergarten to sixth grade, talk about one's formative years.

For me, an autograph has little meaning unless it's accompanied by a special story.  It might be a short scribble on a piece of paper or a concert program, or it might be at the end of a meaningful letter.  It can be on a baseball when you snagged a fly ball in the stands, fair or foul, a tennis ball hit into the stands by a tournament victor, or even on an article of clothing.  But, for me, personally, its value is not only in its rarity but the situation in which it was obtained.  Sometimes, acquisition of these treasures have been through my own action, often through that of others.  Over the years, I have kept these in acid-fast rice folders, often in a dark place, as light will contribute to their deterioration.  I'd like to share some of these with you as keeping them in the dark serves no one.

Much of my "collection" represents musical artists or actors no longer on the scene.  I've already shown you one of my most prized possessions. a note from Fred Rogers.  Some arose from humorous situations, some to commemorate a special event or holiday.   A number of years ago, I was watching the Kennedy Center Honors and the honoree was the Actor, Ossie Davis.  I remembered Ossie and his wife, the actress, Ruby Dee, from my childhood as they lived in my neighborhood.  I sent off a letter of congratulations and the following Christmas, received a nice card from "Ossie and the Posse".
In full disclosure, not all the autographs and letters are mine.  Some belonged to my mother-in-law, my parents, and my wife.

My mother-in-law, Peg Hemenway, was an extrovert to say the least.  Despite living on a farm in a town of 500, she reached out through writing and meeting new people...such as befriending the poet, Allan Ginsberg, when he and his friends moved into town.  As a girl, she had attended the Owen D. Young School in Van Hornesville, NY.  For those of you who don't know Mr. Young, he was not only a gentleman farmer there but the founder of General Electric.  My wife's grandfather was his herd manager.  After high school, Peg went to work for him as an assistant after which he put her through college at St. Lawrence University where he was a big benefactor.  Mr. Young was also a good friend of FDR and invited him, while Governor of NY, to give the first commencement address at Peg's graduation.  So... not being shy, she acquired his autograph:

Later on, Owen D. Young challenged his friend, Franklin, in the Democratic Primary for President.  We know how that turned out!

In the 1960's, my in-laws, one of the few Democrats in Otsego County, decided to contribute to John F. Kennedy's campaign by auctioning off a prize heifer calf, a very valuable commodity.  Peg had sent the Kennedy's a letter asking permission to name the calf "Jackie" after Mrs. Kennedy.  This was the reply:

Before we leave Peg, a jazz lover, I will tell you that she had an annual Christmas card from the great Duke Ellington:

Now for my family...  I had already mentioned in one of my very early posts on this blog that, when my mother was in high school, she worked after school in a laundry as a secretary and developed a crush on the boss's son who grew up to become the author, Herman Wouk. ("Caine Mutiny", "Marjorie Morningstar", etc.)  In my mother's last year of life, she was dying from leukemia.  At that time, Mr. Wouk had just come out with a new book, "Inside, Outside", about their old neighborhood in the Bronx.  Mom recognized many of the names of friends and teachers which made her very nostalgic.  She wrote a letter to Mr. Wouk but, having no address for him, sent it to his publisher hoping it would be forwarded to him.  Indeed, it was and Mom received a very kind response, hand-written on lined legal paper. Believe it or not, he is 103 today and still writing!

Celebrity autographs are always fun to look back on.  When I was a kid, one day during High Holy Day services at our synagogue in Mt. Vernon, my older sister needed some fresh air and went outside while I remained in the temple with Mom and Dad.  After services, we met her outside and she handed me a little scrap of paper which I've always kept.  Apparently, there was a man sitting in a car out front, waiting for his Jewish wife to finish her prayers.  My sister instantly recognized him and approached his car, getting an autograph.  Then, she asked if her little brother, Sandy, could have one as well and he obliged her.  The man was the person our family and most of America spent every Sunday night with...Ed Sullivan!

My dad, an optometrist, had some celebrity clients like the screenwriter, Paddy Chayefsky ("Marty", "Middle of the Night", etc.) and the late night host, comedian, pianist and jazz composer, Steve Allen who wore his signature eyeglasses, courtesy of my father.  I found this in Dad's belongings after he passed away:

The other side of the postcard

Letters to political figures have always been a favorite of mine.  Here's a response I received from Sen. John Glenn when the FDA was finally banning saccharin!

A bit faded but still legible.

The last little treasure I'll share with you actually belongs to my wife, but I DID play a role in it!  In 2007, I was a subscriber to the Economist and, around that time, Suzanne was looking for some new things to do.  Towards the back of the magazine was a "Positions Offered" section with job postings.  Being always the adventurer and joker, one caught my eye and I climbed the stairs to her office and informed her I had found JUST the right job for her...the position was the Assistant Private Secretary to the Queen of England.  They also mentioned that they were an "Equal Opportunity Employer" which meant all nationalities, races, creeds and gender.  I couldn't believe our good fortune as Suzanne fit all the criteria and I had visions of taking off across the pond to live in Buckingham Palace!  Somewhat tongue in cheek, Suzanne sent her CV with a nice cover letter.  Everyday, we'd come home and check the mailbox expecting a letter from the Queen.  After weeks of waiting, I opened the mailbox one day and saw a long yellow envelope with the royal Mail stamped on it.  The back of the envelope had only a short return address: "ER Buckingham Palace".  This was it, or rather wasn't as it was a very polite rejection that only the English can do.  I was ready to buy some Welsh Corgis but my hopes were dashed.

Of course, we're still waiting for them to get back to us!  A few months later, we were watching a series on PBS called "The Monarchy" about the Royal Household that we were never to live in.  There was a scene that gave us a good laugh as it showed the Queen walking down a corridor, deep in conversation with...you guessed it, her Assistant Private Secretary, a short little man with no particular distinguishing features and, certainly, not as charismatic as my wife!

I will continue to collect, being somewhat of a pack rat myself.  I will leave you with the thought that we are remembered by our deeds and kindness, but, if preserved, like my mother's handwritten recipes and address book, we pass something on for generations to come.  Someone once gave my wife some advice: "Pass on your recipes...that's how people will always remember you!"