Stories of buried treasure come and go. Like the amateur treasure hunter who discovered a million Pounds of gold in 2009 in the UK. It was his first time out with a metal detector. Or, the school kids who dug up a stash of treasure while cleaning a lake in Oakland, Calif. last week. I personally like the story told to me of a local man who, while working in his basement, discovered two bottles of prohibition-era whiskey hidden in the floor joists.
It is the euphoria of discovering the unexpected, and who wouldn't want to be a part of that? While the find I am about to share may not generate the generous portions of wealth of some of the previous examples, it is intriguing nonetheless. In fact, the items discovered by a friend of mine may not be worth anything at all, at least in monetary terms. They are, however, good for a few laughs. A few head-scratching "Man have the times changed!" observations.
It was not a particularly unique day in the life of Justin Stocker. He was busy, as always, working in construction. Like any man worth his salt, Justin has a few passions, which he pursues in the time not spent at his job. One of his passions includes remodeling the house he bought several years back. On any given day, Justin comes home from work, only to retire to the smell of cut lumber and drywall dust: that smell that is unique to a home remodeling project, a house about to be lived in.
On this day he was to tackle the kitchen. Time to rip up the flooring, to the subfloor, in preparation for a poured concrete base. Nails screamed in protest as wood planks were lifted for the first time in generations.
It was here that he made his discovery. Underneath the wood flooring was a blanket of newspaper. The removal of more boards revealed more paper. Literally, the entire room had newspaper laid down as an inexpensive form of rosin. All these years, people had tracked over top, not knowing or caring what lay beneath. Now Justin worked carefully, pulling the nails and lifting the newspaper so as not to cause further damage. In the end, he would have a stack of vintage news several inches tall - a veritable window into a long-past world and including publications from Milwaukee, Chicago, Beloit, Freeport, and Monroe. They all share the same date: 1939.
Understandably, all work ceased for the day. Justin spent the remainder of the evening flipping through the pages. I was fortunate enough to get a phone call; perhaps there was something here that I'd be interested in writing about? After an amicable chat with my friend, I found myself in the possession of the stash.
What was it like in 1939? My grandfather was a young, unmarried man. One could purchase a brand new car for less than $800. A house cost $3,800. A gallon of gas was a dime. I turned the pages, reading the headlines, soaking up the details.
Possibly the most intriguing aspect to these vintage papers was their date of publication - mid-1939. With the benefit of hindsight, we know this period in time to be a sort of calm before a great storm. Hitler had not yet invaded Poland. Japan was still two years away from the attack on Pearl Harbor. Here in the United States, the Great Depression had been dragging for a decade.
There is a marked sense of innocence in the pages of the vintage newspapers. Not ignorance, or obliviousness, but a sort of approach that hints of a more honorable, and certainly more virtuous world than the one in which we currently live.
One newspaper featured a section on tips for hosting a successful outdoors picnic. What to include, where to go, how to invite friends; printed photos showed people relaxing beneath shade tress. The women wore dresses, their hair curled back, while the men could be seen in button-up shirts tucked neatly into slacks, with a belt. An attached feature includes accessories for the summer wardrobe - ideas on what you can crochet or knit for yourself, "on a summer afternoon or evening as you sit in the shade on the lawn or on the cool porch."
I found the comics section, directly across from a 1939 TV guide. Wait a second, that's not a TV guide; it's actually a Radio Guide. A neat diagram of a radio dial indicates where you can find each station. On Wednesday, July 5, 1939, area stations broadcast everything from symphonies and orchestras all day, the Chicago Cubs on WEMP, Lone Ranger on WGN, Amos 'n Andy on WBBM, to various Polish-, German and farm-related broadcasts.
International news was made more interesting, thanks to the benefit of hindsight. The British were developing a mine, to be suspended by balloon, over major cities. This was to provide protection from aerial bombing which, from the sounds of this article, was little more than a nuisance in mid-1939.
With just a few isolated hiccups, things seemed fairly peaceful. One front-page headline outlined the new peace deal between Germany and Russia. Another paper ran the intriguing headline, "Europe's Man of Mystery!" The piece was an expose of Adolf Hitler, and cheerily described his daily routine, which included a healthy, light breakfast. Hitler was big on personal health, and wanted to avoid "The middle-age spread."
If only, during the Great Depression, we would have exported Waffle House.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
It is the euphoria of discovering the unexpected, and who wouldn't want to be a part of that? While the find I am about to share may not generate the generous portions of wealth of some of the previous examples, it is intriguing nonetheless. In fact, the items discovered by a friend of mine may not be worth anything at all, at least in monetary terms. They are, however, good for a few laughs. A few head-scratching "Man have the times changed!" observations.
It was not a particularly unique day in the life of Justin Stocker. He was busy, as always, working in construction. Like any man worth his salt, Justin has a few passions, which he pursues in the time not spent at his job. One of his passions includes remodeling the house he bought several years back. On any given day, Justin comes home from work, only to retire to the smell of cut lumber and drywall dust: that smell that is unique to a home remodeling project, a house about to be lived in.
On this day he was to tackle the kitchen. Time to rip up the flooring, to the subfloor, in preparation for a poured concrete base. Nails screamed in protest as wood planks were lifted for the first time in generations.
It was here that he made his discovery. Underneath the wood flooring was a blanket of newspaper. The removal of more boards revealed more paper. Literally, the entire room had newspaper laid down as an inexpensive form of rosin. All these years, people had tracked over top, not knowing or caring what lay beneath. Now Justin worked carefully, pulling the nails and lifting the newspaper so as not to cause further damage. In the end, he would have a stack of vintage news several inches tall - a veritable window into a long-past world and including publications from Milwaukee, Chicago, Beloit, Freeport, and Monroe. They all share the same date: 1939.
Understandably, all work ceased for the day. Justin spent the remainder of the evening flipping through the pages. I was fortunate enough to get a phone call; perhaps there was something here that I'd be interested in writing about? After an amicable chat with my friend, I found myself in the possession of the stash.
What was it like in 1939? My grandfather was a young, unmarried man. One could purchase a brand new car for less than $800. A house cost $3,800. A gallon of gas was a dime. I turned the pages, reading the headlines, soaking up the details.
Possibly the most intriguing aspect to these vintage papers was their date of publication - mid-1939. With the benefit of hindsight, we know this period in time to be a sort of calm before a great storm. Hitler had not yet invaded Poland. Japan was still two years away from the attack on Pearl Harbor. Here in the United States, the Great Depression had been dragging for a decade.
There is a marked sense of innocence in the pages of the vintage newspapers. Not ignorance, or obliviousness, but a sort of approach that hints of a more honorable, and certainly more virtuous world than the one in which we currently live.
One newspaper featured a section on tips for hosting a successful outdoors picnic. What to include, where to go, how to invite friends; printed photos showed people relaxing beneath shade tress. The women wore dresses, their hair curled back, while the men could be seen in button-up shirts tucked neatly into slacks, with a belt. An attached feature includes accessories for the summer wardrobe - ideas on what you can crochet or knit for yourself, "on a summer afternoon or evening as you sit in the shade on the lawn or on the cool porch."
I found the comics section, directly across from a 1939 TV guide. Wait a second, that's not a TV guide; it's actually a Radio Guide. A neat diagram of a radio dial indicates where you can find each station. On Wednesday, July 5, 1939, area stations broadcast everything from symphonies and orchestras all day, the Chicago Cubs on WEMP, Lone Ranger on WGN, Amos 'n Andy on WBBM, to various Polish-, German and farm-related broadcasts.
International news was made more interesting, thanks to the benefit of hindsight. The British were developing a mine, to be suspended by balloon, over major cities. This was to provide protection from aerial bombing which, from the sounds of this article, was little more than a nuisance in mid-1939.
With just a few isolated hiccups, things seemed fairly peaceful. One front-page headline outlined the new peace deal between Germany and Russia. Another paper ran the intriguing headline, "Europe's Man of Mystery!" The piece was an expose of Adolf Hitler, and cheerily described his daily routine, which included a healthy, light breakfast. Hitler was big on personal health, and wanted to avoid "The middle-age spread."
If only, during the Great Depression, we would have exported Waffle House.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Monday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
