I mentioned in an earlier column that I like to take vintage postcards and attempt to resurrect the history between the person who sent it and the recipient. It’s like putting a puzzle together, although the missing pieces are obtained from old newspapers, internet history, including genealogical data.
The last one I successfully mastered was a 1911 postcard sent from Oatman, Arizona, by a young lady named Rae, to her mother in Michigan. Over 12 hours were spent attempting to find Rae’s maiden name, including her married name, or in this case, names. That story can be found in its entirety on my blog under “Out Oatman Way.”
Being a fan of ghost towns, Oatman piqued my interest more so than if the card was sent from Phoenix or Tucson. When my wife asked me to try and do the same with an old 1923 postcard she came across from Jerome, Arizona, I hesitated at first.
Observing that this card showed a horse-drawn wagon going down a steep hill, while hauling passengers from the town center in Jerome to the rail station, one mile away, caught my immediate attention. The picture’s not in the greatest shape, with plenty of folds, cracks, and blemishes, but thankfully, I could still read everything on the opposite side.
This postcard is addressed to Mr. Glenn Henninger, Brooklyn Station, RFD #1, Cleveland, Ohio, Box 400. The short message is as follows: “Dear Glenn, I guess this blob means a big kiss for you. How are you and little sister. Aunt Grace.”
Knowing that it came from Jerome, a notable ghost town like Oatman, and the sender was named Grace, I agreed to give things a whirl. You see, Grace is the name of one of my granddaughters.
The blob that Aunt Grace mentions is ink, and appears to be deliberate, perhaps first made in the shape of a heart until it muddled into an ink puddle. That’s what helps make this card so unique to me.
Glenn Henninger was quite easy to find, and from there on, everything pretty much fell into place. Glenn’s little sister was named Janice, while Aunt Grace was Glenn’s mom’s only sister. Glenn was born in 1918; thus, he would’ve been 5 when he received the card. His sister, Janice, was the only sibling. She’d just turned one.
Grace was born in 1893, and her maiden name was Woolf until she married Clayton Heideloff in 1921. Clayton served as a first sergeant during WWI. He died in 1949 at age 54, while Grace Woolf-Heideloff lived to be 88, passing away in 1981. She never remarried.
I didn’t find anything controversial about Grace’s life, like I did Rae’s in that Oatman postcard. Undoubtedly, she was in Jerome with her husband on a sightseeing trip. WWI ended in 1918, so perhaps they were making the most of his coming back alive.
The most interesting thing I found during my research was that the Henninger men knew how to pick not only beautiful, but faithful wives. Glenn’s father, Edwin, married Nellie Woolf, a former beauty pageant winner, in 1912. Edwin and Nellie remained together for 64 years.
Glenn’s wife, Evelyn Marie Bertlesbeck, was Miss Cleveland in 1938, including winning other Ohio beauty contests. She was a freelance model and a stewardess for Pennsylvania Central Airlines. The couple married in 1941 and remained together for 66 years.
Father and son believed in the marriage vow, “Until death do us part.”
Sadly, that vow doesn’t seem to be used as much during wedding ceremonies. Where marriage is concerned, perhaps things will once again return to the way they were in the old days, when couples at least tried to stay together. There’s nothing fuddy-duddy about that!
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