journalism


22
Jul 22

Big bicycle ads

We’ve come to this, filling slow July Fridays with newspaper copy of old. And advertisements! Don’t forget the advertisements! The real wonder and whimsy of newsprint are in the ads. And for the old ones, that means clip art. Clip art gets dismissed, but clip art should be celebrated. For this effort I’ve searched the word “bicycling” in the digitized newspapers of three states — Alabama, Connecticut and Indiana — for the year 1922. These are the 10 best returns from the bunch. Some of them are wonderful.

“Bicycling is the ideal exercise for women and young girls.”

This ad was in the August 3, 1922 edition of the Montgomery Times. That paper is hard to pin down. There was more than one publication with that name over the course of 150 years or so, and the peculiar way mergers are observed in the news business are always tricky, too.

Similarly, Rambler and America Bicycles would merge before going defunct. Rambler, though, was started by Thomas Jeffery, an Englishman who emigrated to Chicago. He was one of the inventors of the clincher tire/rim (still stopping strong!) and sold out to … make cars.

Klein, the national brand anyway, was in the marketplace until the 1960s, at least.

Meanwhile, in April of 1922, this ad was published in The Huntsville Times, which is still publishing, sorta, today. The magic tonic, this ad says.

Dayton bikes were manufactured by Huffman, which sounds familiar in the bike world. That story goes back to the 1880s, when George Huffman bought a sewing machine company and then moved it from New York to Dayton, Ohio. The first Dayton bike dates to 1892. George’s son, Horace M. Huffman, Sr., later founded Huffman Manufacturing Company and they made Daytons until 1949. They made high-end bikes, invented training wheels and, later launched the popular Huffy brand in the 1950s.

There’s nothing at that address now, assuming the roads and numbering systems are the same a century on, but there is a spin shop nearby today.

Back down to Montgomery, then, where the Montgomery Advertiser (today the largest daily in the state) published this great clip art in the state capital in October of 1922. Obviously, Klein was a big believer in print advertising. (That’s an Oswald joke.)

Have just as much or more fun! Try it and prove it.

This clip art was used a few times that year for Klein ads around the country. I’ve cleaned it up a bit, but a dirty newsprint and a hasty scan make it look like this little trio is escaping a devastating fire behind them.

Mostly I’m excited to see the cartoon women in the advertisements. Bikes were a big equalizer, socially speaking, and you see it in the retail spots.

Let’s go to Connecticut, and visit the New Britain Herald, and check out this Christmas ad from 1922. The Herald was opened in 1880, and is still in operation today.

Make my Christmas gift an Indiana bicycle! (They were works of art, Dad!)

Hadfield Swenson made planes and motors, dating back to at least 1916. They closed earlier in 1922, which is why Charles E. Hadfield lists himself as the successor. He’d previously tried his hand at car accessories. There’s a bank at that location today.

There seem to be a lot of Hadfields in that area still, but the web doesn’t know a lot about what came next for Charles E.

Look at this beautiful, happy woman. “I will miss you while I am off having fun on my bicycle!”

The power of bikes:

As it became safer and less expensive to own, the bicycle became the mainstream transportation tool for everyday use. For women, it also gave them newfound freedom of movement.

The previous generation of Victorian women were culturally expected to stay at home. Idealized for virtues such as domesticity and motherhood, the Victorian woman’s role kept her away from public life. The bicycle afforded women an accepted way to be outside as part of society including when it came to business and politics. Through simple mobility, the bicycle also helped to accelerate many women’s rights.

The departure coaster brake was the one many of us experienced as a kid. Need to stop? Pedal backward. This was in an April 1922 edition of The Hartford Courant — started as a weekly in 1764, a daily since 1837 and, today the largest in Connecticut. The ad was the centerpiece of one side of a double-truck spread marking national bicycle week, in the Sunday edition.

Opposite that advertisement in The Hartford Courant is this amazing graphic.

Ride a bicycle!

I think I will, tomorrow morning!

Other brilliant art from this special will be saved for a later date.

This bit of copy is from the Evansville Press, in Indiana, in May of 1922. I’m all but certain that it is a delightful bit of fiction.

That’s old-fashioned!

This, you see, was about 15 or 25 years after the first real cycling craze in the United States. And a lot of the writing about bikes around this time in the early 1920s was devoted to pointing out that bike sellers were moving more frames now than they were in recent years. It isn’t just for kids anymore, seems to be part of the selling point.

But that pretend city editor definitely needs a tandem.

Also from the Evansville paper, where they were still thinking about the flu, I guess. Why squeeze in with the germs?

Koch is still a big name in Evansville, of course. They stayed at that Third and Pennsylvania location until 1962.

Still in Evansville, the home of H.H. Shaffer.

There’s an apartment complex there now, if I have the correct street. He’d been advertising in the paper for several years. In 1929 he died at home at 46 years of age. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of the Rayo bicycles. brand, but yet I’m hardly an expert in this area. (Or any area, really.) I can use an inflation calculator, however. The $30 quoted in that ad would apparently be equivalent to about $529.13 today (modern inflation notwithstanding).

And we’ll wrap this up in Muncie, Indiana, because what could top Muncie? This bit of copy is from the Muncie Evening Press, which started in about 1880, and was part of a two-paper daily town until 1996. This was the end of a copy-and-paste piece slugged “Bicycles are coming back.”

We’ve ridden bikes, as the piece notes, “a legitimate aid to health and sport,” in Muncie. We might do it again one day. I just discovered, after all, the Cardinal Greenway which goes right through the town.

And now, having expected this to be a brief Friday space filler, but somehow having written a thousand-plus words around 10 zealously selected graphics we’ll wrap it up, thusly:

Ride a bicycle!


18
May 22

The year was 1961; do not enter business with Willie’s wife

We haven’t read any old newspapers recently. Let’s go back 61 years, to northwest Alabama. This is The Florence Herald, which we have examined here from time-to-time in the past. Some of my family would have read this paper. Indeed, there’s a brief mention of my great-great grandfather here in a legal notice. And some of the family names appear in some of the local correspondence. But let’s look at the really fun stuff from the weekly, which was published on Thursday, May 18, 1961.

There’s a fair amount to get through over your second coffee. Let’s dive in. This is the lead local story, in a paper that was helping its community celebrate the centennial of the Civil War.

The Reynolds Metals Company, founded in Kentucky in 1919, was a big, big deal. They originally supplied the wrappers for cigarette and candy companies and in the 1920s took over Eskimo Pies because of the foil. They were growing quickly, and in a few more years a few more acquisitions the original U.S. Foil Company became Reynolds. They moved HQ to New York, and then to Richmond. Soon they were mining bauxite, and they opened the plant mentioned here in 1941.

Just before the United States entered the war, R.S. Reynolds ramped up production. He was in aluminum, after all, and he saw a need. Now the second largest producer of basic aluminum in the U.S., Reynolds was key in aircraft production, among other things. A lot of that was rolled out right there. They kept growing after the war, indeed they snatched up six government defense plants that were up for disposal. Reynolds later expanded into non aluminum products such as plastics and precious metals, introducing Reynolds Plastic Wrap in 1982. Odds are you’ve got some of their product in your kitchen cabinets.

The company took out a full page ad in this same issue of The Florence Herald thanking their employees and the community. “Surely the only thing which can surpass our first 20 years at Listerhill will be our next 20 years,” was the last line over R.S. Reynolds’ name. Indeed, they put 37 more years into the area.

When they sold to Wise Metals in 1998-99, there were 1,600 people working at the plant. A global concern picked up Wise in 2015, it was an eight-figure deal. The company is still in operation there, still employing more than 1,200. They recycle and make aluminum cans.

I don’t know if you noticed that story about “Viet Nam” that was set just below the Reynolds piece, and the English standalone photo It’s 1961, and there’s so much patriotic optimism in that story.

Below the fold on the front page …

So it is an interesting time in local and national politics. I shared with you one of the bullet points from Harold S. May’s front page column.

Dude.

May wrote in this same format every week. I looked ahead. “What has Mr. Average Citizen done to deserve it? All of us will suffer alike,” wrote the columnist in the next issue. The columnist — who had served on the Florence Housing Authority and was the chairman of the local board of education — made another, terrible convoluted mention two weeks out, until, finally, he moved back to his local observations and recycled bon mots.

“The wife with plenty of hose sense never becomes a nag,” was one of the lines just above the condemnation above.

It’s a fascinating column in its own way, if you can overlook the regrettable parts.

Finally, according to the search function, he ran this same ad the next three weeks. And then, apparently, never again. There’s a story behind this.

Sadly, we’ll never know it.


13
Apr 22

A totally professional day

I edited a podcast today, and spent time in two different television studios for three different shows. At the end of the day I set up a Disney movie for students. In between, I watched these shows. And, now, you can too!

This is the news show from last night I mentioned. The interview with the new provost is there. It’s an interesting moment to have the provost in-studio.

They talked a lot about bike racing on What’s Up Weekly, because the Little 500 races are coming up next week. Very exciting stuff for campus.

I gotta tell ya, IU Fanshop, now in just its third episode, is growing on me. It’s a show about fans, and as they start to really lean into this, they’re going to find some great stuff going forward. This is fun.

You know what else is fun, photos of people at varying depths below sea level!

Yes, we’re wrapping up the photos today. But I’ll round out the week with more diving stuff, somehow. (We’ve already planned our next two trips, and I’m only a bit sad that neither of them involve diving. Yet.)

Anyway, on to the photos!

Gymnasts, man.

Sometimes I float to one side, sometimes I float behind people. Occasionally I float above them.

That is, of course and without fail, the moment they decide to look for you.

Everything is a-OK on the bottom of the sea.

And sometimes people float above you, too.

Selfie time at a safety stop.

This is probably another safety stop, a designed part of the dive, during the ascent, where you’re allowing your body the opportunity to expand a bit more of the nitrogen that builds up under pressure. This is a planned and good feature. And, clearly, carefully done.

I wonder what she’s looking at here.

Best fish in the sea!

And, also, me.

Yes, I all but blinked during my own selfie. I was on vacation.


26
Feb 22

Let me eat all the cake

After hours cake in an after-hours newsroom. I passed through the campus paper’s office as they were wrapping up the 155th birthday celebration of the IDS. Think of that, a student newspaper for 155 years! I have a reprint of the original front page, and, today, I had the last piece of cake.

Didn’t taste a day over 135 years old.

Also this week we learned that one of the writers of that august publication was a finalist for a prestigious national Hearst Award, continuing a 12-year consecutive streak of having a finalist or winner from IU. Also, the current editor-in-chief of the paper was named the photojournalist of the year by the Indiana News Photographers Association.

Furthermore, we learned that a podcast two of our interns worked on are nominated for an NAACP Image Award this weekend.

Other students were raising money for a high school newsroom this week. Game design students saw the video game debut at Steam’s Next Fest, and still more game design students rolled out their game for sale this week.

The TV crowd just kept producing television. Eight shows this week, and here’s the seventh of them, now.

Taken altogether, it was a pretty good week for people who are anxiously eyeing spring break.

And next week gets really busy.

(I’m anxiously eyeing spring break, too. And next weekend.)


22
Feb 22

Your personal blog experience

One overused word is narrative. Another is polarized. Right behind those two is experience.

Ummm, no.

One of the downsides to the phone experience since we all got portable phones in the 90s has been the hang up experience. You just can’t slam the phone down. You removed the phone from your face and … pressed a button. This disappointing experience has continued into the smartphone era. Even worse, the other person doesn’t get a dial tone experience.

Similarly, I can’t have a satisfying tab-closing experience. I read that and could only role my eyes and press the X to close the screen — which I could not do fast enough.

I do not need a personalized registration experience. I need only to beat the human rush and avoid lines.

Whatever consultant told the comms and coding people to write that needs a new kind of working experience.

I saw this this morning.

Modernist avant-garde is now ubiquitous and contemporary, and today I sat in that spot just long enough to contemplate it. What do you suppose those are made of? They’re too high up in a ludicrously tall room to tell.

What do you suppose the artist’s intention was? There’s no sign I saw that offered an interpretation.

What do you think the artist was thinking about when they got this commission? When they were planning this out? When they watched hoisted to the ludicrously high ceiling?

That’s always the real question, really.

The other, I suppose, is how many people have contemplated these same questions? And other questions? And what answers did they conjure for themselves? It’s all a new thing, so probably not many, and who knows, and wouldn’t it be worrying to know the answer to that last one?

Though, some sort of interactivity would be nice. An artistic suggestion box, if you will. What did you think when you saw this installation of glass and aluminum and nylon string? You could see the artist saying “I’ll take all of this into consideration on my next project,” until they saw the replies they received.

Then they, too, will know about the comments.

Studio night, and it was a good one.

That’ll all be online tomorrow, and I’ll share it here. See you then!