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JUNCTION CITY, KANSAS

“Maude, Harry, and Minnie took that private information to the grave.”

An interesting old 1910 postcard I came across is actually a celebratory announcement of the opening of a new commercial building in Junction City, Kansas. The card sender was Maude K. of Junction City, with the recipient, Mr. Francis Bowman of Chapman, Kansas.

Given my familiarity with this structure and my wife’s birth in Junction City, I felt it was worthy of a full historical review of both entities. I’ll get to the biography of the sender and recipient at the end of my writing.

Located in the heart of Junction City, Kansas, the Pennell Building stands as a testament to the city’s commercial evolution and architectural heritage. For over a century, this structure has witnessed the ebb and flow of local history, entrepreneurship, and community life, earning its place as a cherished landmark in Geary County.

Junction City, founded in the mid-19th century at the confluence of the Republican and Smoky Hill Rivers, blossomed as a hub of trade and transportation thanks to the arrival of the railroad. As the city’s population and economic ambitions grew, so did the demand for more commercial square footage. It was against this backdrop, in 1887, that the Pennell Building was constructed.

Commissioned by William Pennell, a notable local entrepreneur and investor, the building was designed to be a prominent fixture in the city’s burgeoning downtown district. Its construction reflected both the optimism of Junction City’s business community and the Victorian architectural trends sweeping the nation during the late 1800s.

The Pennell Building quickly distinguished itself through its stately brick façade, tall arched windows, and intricate ornamental details, features that set it apart from the simpler wooden storefronts common at the time.

Upon completion, the Pennell Building became a prime location for a variety of businesses. Its ground floor was home to general stores, mercantile shops, and other retail ventures that catered to both locals and travelers passing through Junction City by rail or stagecoach. The upper floors housed professional offices, including lawyers, doctors, and real estate agents, further cementing the Pennell Building’s reputation as a commercial nucleus.

Throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the building evolved alongside the city’s changing economic landscape. As Junction City grew, so too did the diversity of enterprises within the Pennell Building. It became home to everything from specialty boutiques and financial institutions to printing presses and small manufacturing companies. The building’s adaptability mirrored the resilient spirit of Junction City itself, which weathered economic booms and busts, wars, and periods of rapid growth.

Beyond its role as a commercial center, the Pennell Building played an integral part in the social and cultural fabric of Junction City. Its upper floors were often used for meetings, gatherings, and even small performances. Community organizations, fraternal orders, and social clubs found a home in the building’s spacious rooms, making it a lively gathering place for local residents.

The Pennell Building’s location on Washington Street, one of Junction City’s main thoroughfares, made it a focal point for parades, celebrations, and public events. Its distinctive architecture provided a charming backdrop for photographs and festivities, endearing it to generations of townspeople.

Its original brickwork, decorative cornices, and grand windows are characteristic of Victorian commercial architecture—a style that emphasized both function and beauty. Over time, the building underwent several renovations, but much of its historic character has been carefully preserved.

Local preservation efforts in the late 20th and early 21st centuries recognized the Pennell Building’s significance. When many historic structures in small-town America faced demolition, Junction City’s leaders and citizens rallied to protect their architectural heritage. Restoration projects ensured that the building’s façade remained true to its 19th-century origins, while interior spaces were modernized to accommodate new businesses and offices.

In recent decades, the Pennell Building has experienced a renaissance, reflecting broader trends in downtown revitalization across the United States. Its street-level spaces have been home to a range of businesses—from cafes and antique stores to local service providers and boutiques—each contributing to Junction City’s vibrant small-business ecosystem.

All upper floors, once the domain of professionals and organizations, have been adapted for modern offices and, in some cases, residential lofts. This adaptive reuse has breathed new life into the historic structure, attracting entrepreneurs and residents who value its unique blend of old-world charm and contemporary amenities.

Today, the Pennell Building remains a cornerstone of Junction City’s downtown district. Its red-brick silhouette continues to evoke the city’s storied past, while its bustling storefronts and renovated interiors signal a commitment to the future. For longtime residents and newcomers alike, the Pennell Building is more than just an old structure—it is a living symbol of the city’s resilience, adaptability, and sense of community.

Few buildings in Junction City encapsulate the city’s history as completely as the Pennell Building. Over more than a century, it has weathered fires, economic challenges, and changing urban landscapes. In doing so, it has provided a sense of continuity and identity for the community.

Its preservation is a testament to the dedication of local citizens who recognized the importance of maintaining connections to their shared heritage. Educational tours, historical exhibits, and community events held in or around the building continue to foster appreciation for the city’s past.

The story of the Pennell Building is, in many ways, the story of Junction City itself. Born of entrepreneurial vision, shaped by the currents of commerce and community, and preserved through collective effort, the building remains a vital part of the city’s cultural landscape. As Junction City grows and changes, the Pennell Building stands as a reminder that history is not only something to be remembered but something to be lived—brick by brick, generation after generation.

From its prominent architectural features to its ever-changing roster of businesses and its enduring role as a community gathering place, the Pennell Building exemplifies the rich tapestry of Junction City’s evolution. Its walls have witnessed the ambitions, struggles, and celebrations of countless residents, and its continued presence ensures that the city’s heritage remains a living, breathing part of daily life.

A message on my vintage postcard, written to Francis Bowman, reads as follows:

“November 28, 1928

Dear Cousin – Please tell those people that we will be out Thursday if it does not storm for the turkeys. Guess me will find you. And oblidge.

Maude K.”

Born on April 16, 1873, Mr. Francis Bowman was a farmer living in the Rinehardt agricultural area of Chapman. Several wealthy ranchers and farmers resided in the vicinity, including Joseph Strickler Hollinger and John Hiram Taylor. These two distinguished gentlemen are buried in the Rinehart Cemetery.

Francis and his wife Emma eventually moved to Woodbine in 1913, a distance of approximately 15 miles from Chapman. They had a son one year later, whom they named Martin. Newspaper accounts have Francis listed as a wealthy and industrious farmer. An interesting thing I found printed about his farming operation was that he purchased a manure spreader in 1913. This bit of news was perhaps placed in the newspaper as a form of subtle humor.

Francis Bowman died on December 1, 1936, at the age of 63. His wife Emma passed away in 1974, living to be 93. They’re both buried in Woodbine Cemetery. Their son, Martin, was a retired Rock Island railroad conductor. He died in Alabama on June 28, 2010, at the age of 95. His body was brought back and interred in Herington, Kansas, in Dickinson County.

Maude K. or Maude Kipperling was, of course, a cousin to Francis Bowman. She, along with husband Harry Hoover Kipperling, farmed in the Junction City area. There wasn’t much found about them in local newspapers, yet a 1940 census report had a ‘servant’ living with them, Minnie Stiner. That in itself seems unusual.

Minnie Stiner appears to be someone they knew who lost her husband. It also appears that the Stiners kindly took her in, with Minnie helping out around the house as payment. Why she told a census taker that she was the Kipperling’s servant seems most strange, almost humorous. My guess is that she didn’t want it to seem as if Harry had two wives.

The Ancestry.com website shows Harry Kipperling was born in 1878 and died in 1949. His wife, Maude, was born in 1893 and passed away in 1949. Minnie Stiner was born in 1893 and died in 1943.

With Minnie only living with the Stiner’s for a short time, perhaps she was not in good health? My research did not disclose such, with Maude, Harry, and Minnie taking that personal information to the grave.

YOU’VE GOT MAIL

“Maude Spencer created some controversy when she told a newspaper reporter in 1927 that co-ed travel was okay, even if some ‘petting’ did occur.”

This postcard story begins in Athol, Kansas, and ends there. Athol is a small community located in Smith County, Kansas. Established in the late 1800s, it has remained a quiet rural community throughout its history.

Athol is known for its agricultural heritage and close-knit population, reflecting the charm of small-town life in the American Midwest. It is also close to being a ghost town, with a current population of 47.

Pictured on one side of the slightly damaged postcard is Main Street in Athol. A Ford Model T is driving in front of the local bank, with someone using an ink pen to write on the card that a hotel and the old post office are visible. The person writing this also mentions a dwelling being around back. Telephone poles are visible, giving some indication of modern technology.

The postcard is dated December 27, 1911, and stamped 6 PM. Although not mentioned, the weekday was Wednesday. A one-cent Thomas Jefferson stamp is affixed to the card upside down.

One corner is missing, but I was able to figure out what I believe was there in transcribing the main message. This was only two days after Christmas. The initials S.S. within the letter I take to mean Sunday School.

“Dear Maude,

Thank you so much for the cute tree bow. How did you know that was what I was needing and wanting? I like it very much. The S.S. had their tree etc Sun. morning as much as we used to, except that we darkened the room and lighted the lights so it would seem night. Happy New Year to you. M.D.”

The recipient of the postcard was Miss Maude Spencer. 2823 E. 7th St., Kansas City, Missouri. I had no problem finding out who Maude Spencer was, yet M.D. was a different story. It took much research to come up with a name.

Maude was born on May 4, 1881, in Salina, Kansas. Spencer was her maiden name and remained that way for life. She lived with her dad, mom, and two brothers at the 7th St. address. Miss Spencer continued living there even after her father and mother passed away.

Maude Spencer created some controversy when she told a newspaper reporter in 1927 that co-ed travel was okay, even if some ‘petting’ did occur. Miss Spencer had just completed an 8-month semester cruise on the ship, SS Ryndam, to 35 countries and 90 cities. Maude was one of the older college students on this vessel at 46 years of age.

The SS Ryndam floating university was a trailblazing academic initiative of the late 1920s, providing students with a unique opportunity to learn as they traversed the globe by sea. On board the SS Ryndam, students from 143 colleges set sail for a semester-long cruise, visiting 35 countries and 90 cities.

This journey combined formal instruction with the vibrant experiences of travel, blending classroom learning with firsthand exposure to new cultures, histories, and ideas.

The floating university fostered a spirit of adventure and open-mindedness, challenging traditional educational boundaries. Notably, passengers like Maude Spencer participated in this international academic community, and the program even sparked social conversation—such as when Maude’s views on co-ed travel made headlines in 1927.

This voyage remains a remarkable chapter in the history of experiential learning, marking the early days of study-abroad programs and demonstrating the transformative power of learning beyond the traditional classroom.

Four years after her cruise, Maude passed away on August 31, 1931. During that time, up until her adventure, and for two years afterward, she’d been a teacher and a school principal. Miss Spencer was quite ill during the last two years of her life and was unable to perform either job.

Margaret Belle Douglass (M.B.D.), it appears, was Maude’s friend living in Athol. Like Miss Spencer, she was also a teacher in her early working years, a Sunday School instructor, and worked as a bookkeeper for her father’s grain elevator.

Moving to Kensington, Kansas, in 1918, she worked there as a teller for 36 years at First National Bank. With the initials of M.D., Margaret Douglass seems to be the only acquaintance or family member of Miss Maude Spencer that fits the puzzle. Athol is only 7 miles away from Kensington.

While living in Kensington, Miss Douglass volunteered as a Sunday School teacher, church treasurer, and choir member at the Methodist church. Margaret Douglass was born on August 7, 1880, and died on October 31, 1954, at the age of 74. She’s buried in Athol.

It appears that the last big event to take place in Athol was the Centennial Days Parade in 1988. A large contingent of people from throughout the surrounding country turned out with clowns, displays, floats, old tractors, trucks, and cars.

The parade lasted for almost an hour, which is long-lasting for a small community. Since that time, quiet has enveloped the old town much like the peaceful silence at Pleasant View Cemetery, where Martha Douglass was laid to rest

The Spencer house in Kansas City, Missouri

Maude Spencer on the right and possibly Margaret Douglass on the left

PATRIOTISM UNLEASHED

“Freedom is alive and well in Lake Havasu City.”

One thing that our town does not lack is patriotism. We saw that Saturday evening at the Charlie Kirk Memorial ceremony under the London Bridge. A photograph showing thousands of people holding candles and flags was most touching.

Take a drive through our city and you’ll see more red, white, and blue flags than perhaps anywhere in the country. Next to flags, colorful and loud boats, including hot rods, come in a close second and third. All three are good reasons to live here—along with the lake, of course. Freedom is alive and well in Lake Havasu City.

I read daily, via social media and newspaper editorials, people criticizing the United States. It seems that many are folks who have come here from other nations. That’s akin to inviting someone to your house for Thanksgiving dinner, and then afterwards, having to listen to them complain about the food.

I believe a good many of these complainers are here for one reason: to try to tear this country apart. It’s comparable to some guy or gal seeing your new car in a parking lot, and using their key to deliberately scratch the paint.

Some folks are out there to destroy merely for the purpose of destroying. Thankfully, we have a president and strong leaders attempting to thwart this hate movement. Criminals, haters, and rabble-rousers are being deported by the thousands.

Leftists use the words fascists to describe President Trump and his followers, but they haven’t a clue what a real fascist is. Undoubtedly, they’re mimicking what they’ve heard on some mainstream media news channels. Hollywood celebrities are good at spewing this hateful garbage.

Fascist is a popular ‘buzz word” among left-leaning politicians. They use it for only one reason: to try to brainwash their constituents into believing them, hoping to garner votes.

Thank goodness the majority of American citizens have common sense to see through this twisted agenda. Count me in with that group, along with my closest friends. I believe a good many of these ‘informed patriots’ reside here in Lake Havasu City.

I’m not sure where this country will be in another 10 years, yet for my children and grandchildren’s sake, hopefully, they’ll never see the likes of another 2020 – 2024. Those four years were far worse than any I’ve ever been through, including the Cold War.

I was afraid to speak my conservative mind during the Biden era, greatly concerned that speech police would come knocking on my door. Laugh if you like, but that’s happening in Great Britain right now. Citizens and non-citizens alike are being arrested for mere thoughts alone.

It appears that our city will maintain its basically conservative population for some time. Opinions of all kinds are welcome in a free society, including liberal viewpoints.

It became a real problem for me and others when those on the left attempted to muzzle those of us on the right. I’d like to personally thank President Trump for removing the gag. I don’t know who said this, but they hit the nail square on the head,

“Patriotism unleashed is powerful stuff.”

POOR FOLK?

“There’s no satellite dish on the side of her house, nor does there appear to be an air conditioner.”

For many of the postcards that I’ve analyzed thus far, the people who either wrote or received them, I’ll eventually see in Heaven. This I know after reading about their lives in either census reports, newspaper articles, church records, and most importantly, obituaries.

Sadly, these days, some family members no longer compose an obituary for their loved one. An obituary can be a powerful testimony to those unsaved souls reading it, describing how and when this person came to know the Lord.

A postcard mailed from Ann Amos to Mrs. Pennie Garrett doesn’t say a lot on the outside, word-wise, but after researching both people, I discovered what I really wanted to know: they were believers.

Martha Ann Amos lived in Columbus, Kansas, and it’s easy to see in the photo on the front that she didn’t have it easy. There’s no satellite dish on the side of her house, nor does there appear to be an air conditioner. It can get very hot and humid in Kansas during the summer.

A brief note on the back of the card explains why the dog is sitting in her lap. It doesn’t appear that Mrs. Amos or the hound wanted their picture taken, judging by the photograph on the front.

“Alls well

are you

put this out to keep

the hawks away

from chickens”

Pennie Angy Garrett and her husband Edmund lived on small farms in Columbus, Kansas. Just like Ann Amos and her spouse, John, they were struggling farmers right up until the great depression hit, with the disastrous ‘Dust Bowl’ following soon after.

For those unaware of this, the Dust Bowl was caused by farmers stripping the land of almost all native vegetation. Winds then took over, making for what’s called a haboob in the desert. Dust and dirt were so thick that humans and animals struggled to breathe. Plants wouldn’t grow due to a lack of natural fertilizer.

Jennie Brown was born on August 21, 1871, in Kansas. She married Edmund Armson Garrett on December 12, 1895. Their first child didn’t arrive until 1897, with three others soon following. Jennie was the secretary/treasurer of their Baptist church.

On June 27, 1907, the Garretts lost one of their children. Little Ralph was a little over two years old. His obituary was most sad, with a touching poem at the end. Jennie passed away 12 years later, on September 23, 1919. She was only 48.

Jennie’s husband, Edmund, lived to be 82, dying on April 19, 1946. He never remarried. Interestingly enough, the farmer was born in London, England, before deciding to settle down in Kansas.

Martha Ann Mann-Amos lived a much different life from her friend, Jennie. Born in 1852 in Indiana, she came to Kansas already married to her husband, John. Their first child had died at birth.

With her most likely not able to bear children, in 1891, John and Ann eventually adopted a three-year-old boy. Named William Thacker Amos, sadly, in 1914, at the age of 23, while still living at home, “Willie” was struck in the head at his worksite and eventually died. Martha Ann passed away just 10 years later, on June 19,1924.

According to a census report from 1930, John Thacker was no longer working, with his home valued at $500. John died on July 19, 1934, at the age of 82. Enough was written about both the Amoses and the Garretts to tell me they were followers of Jesus Christ.

Were these people poor folk? It depends on who you ask. Despite all of the sadness found during my investigation, I tend to believe that before they left this world, the Amos and Garrett elders were happy, knowing without a shadow of a doubt they’d see their loved ones again. That’s worth far more than financial standing. Philippians 3:7-8

CRADLE ROBBER?

“That marriage will never last!”

Singer/songwriter Benny Mardones had a hit tune in 1980 called “Into the Night.” The beginning lyrics, if sung by some old guy during a karaoke session today, this fool would undoubtedly be heckled or laughed at.

“She’s just 16 years old

Leave her alone, they said

Separated by fools

Who don’t know what love is yet.“

Benny was 34 years old when he first performed this song, yet I suppose most listeners didn’t give it much thought back then. I did, and still do, knowing that if some guy that age tried putting the moves on my teenage daughter, he would’ve suffered the consequences.

Another singer, Jerry Lee Lewis, followed through on his infatuation in the 1950s with a 13-year-old cousin, going so far as to marry her. He was already married. Lewis was scorned by his peers for doing so and was almost arrested. Jerry Lee Lewis stayed with Myra Gale Brown for 13 years before going on to wed 5 others.

A 1909 postcard I came across follows what I’m talking about here. The 116-year-old card, featuring a Methodist church on the front in Hazelton, Kansas, was sent from someone in Guthrie, Oklahoma, to Mr. Reed Tribble. An interesting history was found by looking deep inside.

Unfortunately, the sender can’t be identified because his initials appear as chicken scratches, something on the order of TOS. I suppose Elvis Reed Tribble knew this person well, with me believing it was a minister. The message reads as follows:

“Hello Reed. How are you? I am going to paper our pantry this morning so you know what is ahead of me. I wish you could arrange it so you can come in Sunday evening and go to church but I don’t suppose you could do that let me know if you can. TOS

I believe this person had concern for Reed Tribble’s spiritual well-being. He needed to be more affirmative, unfortunately giving Tribble an escape route by saying, “…but I don’t suppose you could do that…”

Born on January 3, 1881, Elvis Reed Tribble led a sad yet interesting life. In 1898, at the age of 14, he accidentally shot and killed his younger brother while rabbit hunting. That tragedy undoubtedly bothered him ’til the end.

Reed Tribble married Miss I. B. Arnold on August 13, 1919. That wouldn’t have been such a big deal had the girl been older, yet she was only 15, and he was 38. ‘Rob the cradle’ comes to mind here. Several Oklahoma newspapers made sure to headline this piece of gossip. I suppose there were many folks forecasting, “That marriage will never last!”

Elvis Reed Tribble began as a farmer but soon gave up the plow for a mail vehicle, joining the US Postal Service around 1917. Perhaps that’s how he met his future bride, at a mailbox.

His rural route consisted of driving 58 miles each day. Retiring in 1951, I calculated that Tribble drove approximately 656,676 miles through rain, snow, sleet, and hail to make his deliveries. I’m sure those miles didn’t come without numerous flats while getting stuck in Oklahoma mud and snow.

Elvis (Elves) Reed Tribble died in 1965, with his wife passing away in 1991. Regardless of what people might’ve said, in and around Guthrie, Oklahoma, they remained together the whole time. Mrs. Ira B. Tribble never remarried after her husband’s death. The couple had one daughter, Zola Mae.

WRITING MISS ONA

“Miss Ona Blankinship lived to be 100 years old and never married.”

A 1969 postcard I came across on eBay shows the US Marine Corps War Memorial monument in Arlington, Virginia. This monument celebrates the raising of the American flag at Mt. Suribachi during WWII on the island of Iwo Jima.

The historic event took place on February 23, 1945, with many stories written about it, including Hollywood movies.

The recipient of this March 14, 1969, double-postmarked postcard, sent from Washington, D.C., was Miss Ona B.J. Blankenship in Hazelton, Kansas. The Hazelwood post office was still open at that time, and that’s where she picked it up. Ona was 82 at that point.

The sender only signed his first name, Kyle, and that person appears to be Kyle A. Wallace. I could never precisely pin things down here to say this for sure. Kyle may have been a student of Ona Blakenship or a friend. He had Ona’s last name spelled wrong as it’s Blankinship with an i.

A message written in hurried cursive reads as follows:

“Friday

Dear Ona. I arrived here Tuesday with the flu – and I’m still trying to shake it. I’m making my meetings so far, but I’m sticking close to my room otherwise. I started to go to Pierre, S.D., a few days ago. They paged me off the plane – saying the weather was too severe for landing in Pierre. Esther said a nice letter came from you before I left. Love Kyle”

Miss Blankinship was born on November 10, 1887, in Butler County, Kansas. She taught school in Hazelton and other locales until retiring, passing away on November 19, 1987. Ona Blankinship lived to be 100 years old and never married. She’s buried in Rosehill (Hazelton) Cemetery.

Ona was a real social butterfly, with her name appearing in local newspapers 147 times. Almost all of them have the teacher either attending or putting on lunches and dinners in conjunction with school activities.

Hazelton, Kansas, is a rather sad story from the beginning, at least where growth is concerned, not unlike other small Kansas towns. Hazelton was started in 1884 and named for Reverend J. Hazelton, a pioneer settler. Hazelton was quickly going backward, even when Miss Ona taught school there, with only a few hundred residents. It went downhill fast numbers-wise.

Today, approximately 60 citizens reside in the area. A few buildings remain of the original community, and they’re all near collapse, with the school abandoned and no longer being used. The Hazelton post office still stands, yet its doors are shuttered.

On the positive side. Freedom Gate Boys Ranch is now located in Hazelton. It’s a spiritually based learning facility for boys having a hard time in public school. I suggest that everyone reading this go to their website and look at what they’re doing. I was impressed.

My 56-year-old postcard had the potential to say much more, but unfortunately, the four Hazelton newspapers died early deaths, making it nearly impossible to find out what went on there in the later years. Hopefully, as time marches forward, folks will eventually start returning. The town name does have a good ring to it!

Hazelton Methodist Church no longer standing

WAC

“Pvt. Mary Charlotte Wallace was one of these valuable personnel.”

A vintage WWII postcard that I came across was mailed from Mitchel Field, Schenectady, New York, to Ottumwa, Iowa. The card recipient, Agnes Dorothy Kittleson, has limited information available regarding her life. She was born in 1894, became a school teacher, and never married. Agnes died in 1973.

Pvt. Mary Charlotte Wallace, the card sender, was born on November 1, 1920, and enlisted in the Women’s Air Corps on November 11, 1943. She worked in the 1st Service Command Unit as a typist and a typesetter. These were important jobs to keep the paperwork flowing, essential tasks in the war effort.

It seems safe to say that Mary was Agnes’s student at one time and also a friend. Mitchel Field was a large training base during the war, and undoubtedly, Pvt. Wallace picked up Miss Kittleson’s card at the Mitchel Field BX store.

Mary Charlotte Wallace composed the following message within it:

“Pvt. Mary C. Wallace

A 702710

1st S.C.U.

Mitchel Field, N.Y.

Dear Kitty,

Decided it was time to let you know where I finally landed.

This is a grand field and I really like it here. My work is very interesting.

Have managed to see part of N.Y. already. There is so much to see.

I hope you are well. I imagine you are plenty busy with everything.

Maybe I will see you when I get a furlough. Charlotte”

Some women became pilots, but Mary wasn’t one of them. Private Mary C. Wallace was honorably discharged from military service in 1945. She was involved in an automobile accident on August 19, 1958, that killed two people. Mary Wallace was not seriously injured.

For the rest of her short life, Mary worked as a secretary for the Standard Oil Company. Miss Wallace died of bladder cancer on December 4, 1964, at the age of 44. She was buried beside her sister, Irene, in New Sharon Friends Cemetery in New Sharon, Iowa.

The Women’s Army Corps (WAC), established in 1942, enabled women to serve in non-combat roles within the U.S. Army during World War II. Members worked as clerks, mechanics, radio operators, and in many other essential positions, freeing men for combat duty and supporting the war effort. The WAC paved the way for greater inclusion of women in the military. Pvt. Mary Charlotte Wallace was one of these valuable personnel.

Thank you for your service!

FORT SAM HOUSTON

“Not much was recorded about him after the war ended.”

A brightly colored WWII-era postcard sent by Pvt. Alvin Jukulen to Miss Abbie Eckles in St. James, Minnesota, has military significance from two perspectives.

Army Pvt. Jukulen wrote in the address header that he was stationed at Fort Sam Houston, in San Antonio, Texas. The front of the postcard shows an Army Air Corps North American BT-9 trainer flying over Randolph Field. The two bases are 13 miles apart.

Private Alvin Milford Jukulen was assigned to the 504th Military Police Battalion at Fort Sam Houston. Born on June 21, 1911, Alvin Jukulen died on August 2, 1990, in Minnesota.

Not much was recorded about him after the war ended, other than that he married Helen Janda in 1962 and they divorced in 1978. Pvt. Jukulen was given credit for having served in WWII. The soldier’s letter to Abbie Eckles reads as follows:

“Jan 2

Dear Abbie,

Well how did you get over Christmas. It’s still warm up here don’t even need shirt in day time. I spose you have plenty snow and cold weather up there. We had a big Christmas dinner. Tell rest of them hello. Alvin”

Abbie Eckles was born on March 28, 1930. When Alvin wrote her, she would’ve been almost 13 while the private was 31, and it’s easy to jump to conclusions here, yet I found them to be from the same family. On September 12, 1948, Abbie married Burton J. Frederickson and divorced him on June 8, 1959. She remarried and passed away in 2025, at 91, with the last name of Larsen.

More information is available for Fort Sam Houston and Randolph Field over that of the postcard sender and recipient, and that’s how I’ll end this postcard investigation.

Randolph Field, located near San Antonio, Texas, was established in 1931 as a primary training base for U.S. Army Air Corps pilots. Known as the “West Point of the Air,” it became the model for military aviation training in the United States.

During World War II, Randolph Field played a pivotal role by graduating thousands of pilots who went on to serve in theaters around the globe. Its distinctive Spanish Colonial Revival architecture and landmark central administration tower have made it an iconic site in U.S. Air Force history.

Fort Sam Houston, located in San Antonio, Texas, stands as one of the oldest and most historically significant military installations in the United States. Its roots stretch back to the 19th century, but it was during World War II that Fort Sam Houston cemented its reputation as a cornerstone of U.S. Army operations, training, and medical innovation.

As the world descended into conflict, Fort Sam Houston was rapidly transformed to meet the demands of a global war. Already a well-established base by the 1940s, the fort’s facilities and personnel expanded dramatically.

The prewar garrison swelled as tens of thousands of soldiers cycled through the fort for basic and specialized training. The base’s strategic location in the heart of Texas made it ideal for year-round military exercises, away from the vulnerabilities of coastal attacks.

World War II was a catalyst for profound social change, and Fort Sam Houston reflected these shifts. The fort saw the integration of more women into the Army’s ranks, especially in medical and administrative roles, as members of the Women’s Army Corps (WAC) were trained and stationed at the installation.

Additionally, the base was part of the slow but significant process of integrating military units, as African American and other minority soldiers contributed to the war effort despite the challenges of segregation and discrimination.

UNSUNG HERO

“A work in progress.”

We walk among people who have lived remarkable lives, yet these folks deliberately go about life unnoticed. Attention and fame aren’t their goals, unlike many in the political or entertainment fields. They have heroic stories to tell, but unless asked about their experiences, they remain silent.

A funny postcard showing a fellow in a suit getting soused on apple juice was sent in 1943 from Nashville, Tennessee, by A/C Victor A. Bahr, to a Mr. J.M. Gaul in Sumner, Ohio. When I first saw the comedic picture on the front, I figured the sender was a jokester, but I figured that nothing of significant interest would turn up on either the sender or the recipient.

The recipient, Jacob Miller Gaul, was a young farmer living in Sumner, born on September 20, 1921. In 1943, Jacob married Mildred Louise Morgan. The couple had four children: Victor, born in 1945; Gloria Kay, who was stillborn in 1946; Patricia, born in 1951; and Vicki, born in 1957. Victor Gaul was most likely named after his father’s friend, Victor Bahr. Mr. Jacob Miller Gaul lived to be 91 years old.

Army Air Corps Cadet Victor Ansil Bahr was being screened by the military in 1943 in Nashville as a possible pilot. Victor’s aspiration was to fly the P-38, a twin-engine fighter considered to be the best in its class back then. The note he sent his friend, J.M. Gaul, reads as follows.

“A/C Victor A. Bahr

Squadron H Group 2

AAFCC

Nashville, Tenn

Hello J.M.

Will drop you a few lines as I think I owe you a letter. It is considerably nicer here than at Gulfport. How are you getting along with the Spring work? How is everyone? How many acres of potatoes are you planting this year? Hope you are having as nice weather as we are having here. As ever, Victor?”

Victor was obviously having a hard time finding the right words, as often happens when writing to someone. One thing quite noticeable is that Cadet Bahr places more emphasis on his friend’s well-being than his own. From my research, that was a trait the man possessed up until his passing.

What 1st Lieutenant Victor A. Bahr encountered during WWII is phenomenal. The B-24 bomber pilot was fortunate to return home alive, as was his crew. I found significant material on Lt. Bahr’s military exploits, and rather than butcher this data into small, choppy paragraphs, I decided to share a majority of this information at the end.

Victor Bahr married his wife, Wilma, in 1938, and she passed away on April 6, 1995. Victor died on January 31, 2009, at the age of 88. A portion of his obituary I’ve included below:

“Victor was born June 6, 1920, in Chester, OH, son of the late Ernest W. and Bertha B. Betzing Bahr. He attended Alfred Church and formerly attended South Bethel E.U.B. and was a Forest Fire Warden for the Division of Forestry, a U.S. Army Air Corps veteran of World War II, and a member of the Chester Vol. Fire Dept., which he helped start. He was a life member of the Tuppers Plains VFW Post 9053 and the American Legion 128 in Middleport. He was also a school bus driver for Chester School, a coal miner, pilot, carpenter, and farmer.”

Left to right. Front row. Lt. Victor Bahr is the third one kneeling

BROTHERLY ADVICE

“It seems like we saw a sign about tossing bottles overboard right before we chucked ours.”

In 1987, my wife and I took a one-week, island-to-island cruise of Hawaii on the SS Constitution. The SS Constitution was a large ship, 682 feet long, operated by American Hawaiian Cruises and featured on an episode of “I Love Lucy,” as well as in the movie “An Affair to Remember,” starring Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr.

During our cruise, I bummed an empty wine bottle and cork from a couple who had just consumed the beverage. Washing it out and then drying the inside as best I could, a note was written with our Alaska address on it.

I can’t remember what the note said, but it was probably the ship’s name and what we were doing on board. The cork stopper was partially reinserted, and tape was securely wrapped around it.

Walking to the back of the vessel, I undoubtedly glanced around before tossing it, not wanting to get caught littering. It seems like we saw a sign about tossing bottles overboard right before we chucked ours.

Joleen and I always had high hopes that someone would find the message in a bottle and write us. Thirty-eight years later, and we’re still waiting. Perhaps in 100 years, some beachcomber will finally discover things.

On August 23, 1908, 117 years ago, Otto Oren mailed a humorous, yet also prophetic postcard to his 16-year-old sister, Miss Estella Oren, in Upland, Indiana. I seriously doubt he ever dreamed someone would be reading it in 2025 and writing about such. Otto lived in Norborne, Missouri, at the time, some 500 miles away from Estella.

The agricultural towns of both Norborne and Upland play a key part here, as they both had post offices where the card was safely mailed and then safely received, unlike my wine bottle.

Norborne, Missouri, founded in 1868 along the Santa Fe Railroad, is a small town in Carroll County known for its agricultural heritage, especially soybeans. Over the decades, the community has stayed close-knit, celebrating its rural traditions and history.

Upland, Indiana, another small agricultural town, was established in the late 1800s. This community grew as a railway stop and is now recognized for its small-town character and as the home of Taylor University.

A short note on the back of this postcard contains the following:

“Aug 23/08 Norborne, Mo

Say when are you coming over to see us come over and we will take a boat ride on the river and catch a big cat-fish they are catching some fine ones now some that weigh 40-60-80 and up to a 100 pounds come over please from your bro O.O.”

On front of the card shows two women, with one on an antique telephone while the other listens in. The one gal is saying, “Are you there? Take my advice. Don’t sow your wild oats. They are bad reaping.”

I had to look this saying up, with Miss Purdy, my talented AI helpmate, offering up a stellar explanation:

“Don’t sow your wild oats, they are bad reaping” is a warning based on the idiom “sowing one’s wild oats.” Which refers to behaving promiscuously or foolishly in life, with the understanding that this “bad seed” will lead to negative consequences – the “bad reaping” – later in life, such as regret, problems in a committed relationship, or a ruined future. The saying combines this idiom with the biblical concept of reaping what you sow, emphasizing that irresponsible actions will inevitably bring about undesirable outcomes.

It’s most apparent that Miss Estella Oren took her brother’s softly veiled advice, following the Biblical principle in her relationship regarding promiscuity. The Oren family came from a Quaker upbringing, so that had a lot to do with their upbringing.

Marrying Benjamin Harrison Atkinson in 1909, Estella remained with him until Benjamin died in 1965, at 77 years of age. They had one child. Estella “Cattie” Atkinson never remarried, passing away in 1973 at 81.

Otto and Estella had 7 other siblings: Jason, Jasper, Lenora, Bertha, Bruce, Fletcher, Warren, and Charles. For the most part, they all lived long lives, except for Lenora and Charles.

Otto Oren, born in 1873, made it all the way to 1958. He was 85 at this time and lived to be the oldest out of all his sisters and brothers. Several years before his death, Otto and his second wife, Nargaret, moved back to Upland, Indiana, most likely to be closer to family. His first wife, Minnie, died in 1918. Otto had no children of his own from either spouse.

Margaret Oren passed away in 1963. She had 3 children from a previous marriage.