Flashback : Dallas

A Miscellany: History, Ads, Pop Culture

Tag: Dallas TX

The DFW Turnpike, Unsullied by Traffic, Billboards, or Urban Sprawl — 1957

turnpike_west-from-360_1957The DFW Turnpike, 1957… (click for very large image!)

by Paula Bosse

Above, the Dallas-Fort Worth turnpike in 1957, before it opened for business. When this toll road was paid off in 1977, the toll booths were removed and it became I-30, a “free” highway. (This “toll-road-becoming-a-free-road” thing has happened only once in the history of Texas; I can’t imagine it will ever happen again.) This photo shows the turnpike heading west through Arlington, with Hwy. 360 crossing over it in the middle. Six Flags over Texas would be built in this wide open expanse four years later. And then … an explosion of development.

A Texas Highways article described the 30-mile stretch (“30 miles — 30 minutes!”) as being a blissful drive through “a landscape devoid of advertising signboards and commercial establishments” (!). In fact, the only businesses along the turnpike were two restaurants and two service stations. All the way from Dallas to Fort Worth … that was IT! You know, I’d gladly pay an obscenely exorbitant toll today if it meant I could drive that stretch of highway the way it was in this photo. A world without urban sprawl would be heaven.

I love this photo. The road ahead just disappears into the ether. And, Arlington, you’ve never looked better.

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Sources & Notes

Top photo from Oscar Slotboom’s book Dallas-Fort Worth Freeways, credited to TxDOT Travel Information Division, 1957. His caption: “The view looks west along the turnpike just before it opened in  1957 with the  SH 360 intersection in the foreground…. Land on the left side of the turnpike just past SH 360 would soon be developed into Six Flags Over Texas…. The building alongside the turnpike was a Texas Turnpike Authority administrative office which was demolished in 2011.”

Postcards from around the internet.

For an informative read and LOTS of photos, I highly recommend Oscar Slotboom’s chapter on the DFW Turnpike, which you can access here (there are tons of historical photos). This chapter is from Slotboom’s exhaustive work Dallas-Fort Worth Freeways: Texas-Sized Ambition. The entire book has been made available online — for free (the home-page is here). You can read about Mr. Slotboom’s work in a Dallas Morning News interview by Robert Wilonsky here.

A fun read about the turnpike (yes, fun!) is an article from Texas Highways (Dec. 1957), here. (The article is spread over three web pages — don’t miss the links for all of the pages at the top of each page.)

By the way, when the turnpike opened, the toll was 50 cents. According to the Inflation Calculator, that would be equivalent in today’s money to just over $4.00. To drive from Dallas to Fort Worth quickly, through not-yet-developed green spaces and along a new highway uncluttered with billboards. A BARGAIN!

Click photo for larger image.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

 

Elm Street — 1909

elm-street_postcard-1909-lgElm St. at N. Lamar, looking east (click for much larger image)

by Paula Bosse

In a sort of unfocused wandering around the internet yesterday, I happened across two photos of Elm Street in 1909 that were virtually the same shot, and I came across them on completely unrelated websites. Just a weird coincidence. And they’re pretty cool.

(Ever since I wrote about L. Craddock & Co. Liquors a few months ago, I swear I see that building everywhere now! It’s become a kind of landmark I use to get my bearings. It’s the building on the left with the little cupola on top — it was at Elm and Poydras, between N. Lamar and Griffin.)

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The first photo is a postcard, from Ebay.

Second photo is from Texas: A Southwest Empire (Chicago/St. Louis: Passenger Traffic Dept. Rock Island-Frisco Lines and Chicago & Eastern Illinois Railroad, 1909).

To check out the businesses along this stretch of Elm, see the Worley’s 1909 city directory here. This page shows all the businesses in this photo, moving west to east. It will start with Sam Freshman Liquors right before you cross N. Lamar. On the east side of Lamar, on the right, E.M. Kahn’s. L. Craddock, on the left, is at the corner of Elm and Poydras.

The Worley’s and other criss-cross directories are invaluable in determining locations, especially at the time of this photo, because Dallas street numbers changed in 1911 and do not correspond to today’s street numbers (a surprisingly interesting topic, which I researched here). Besides, those directories are a lot of fun to play around with! (Then again, I was one of those kids who enjoyed reading the dictionary.)

Click photos for larger images.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

A Lost Photo of Director Larry Buchanan, Celebrated “Schlockmeister” — 1955

buchanan-katy-camera_1955_bwLarry Buchanan (in bowtie) in his ad-man days, 1955

by Paula Bosse

I got all excited when I saw the above photo posted in the Lone Star Library Annex Facebook group. It accompanied an article and another photo from the Katy Employes’ Magazine (August, 1955) (seen below) — the poster was interested in the railroad-angle of the article and photos, but the name “Larry Buchanan” was what grabbed my attention.

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The photo was posted because it was a wonderful piece of M-K-T Railroad-related ephemera. Before reading the accompanying text, I thought that the idea of a 1955 Chrysler tricked-out to ride along Katy railroad tracks (so that M-K-T officials could, presumably, ride the rails in comfortable air-conditioned splendor as they moved from one inspection site to the next) was the cool thing about the article. Then I got to the name “Larry Buchanan.” And it became much, MUCH more interesting.

So who is Larry Buchanan? Briefly, Larry Buchanan is one of the greatest exponents of grade-Z, low-low-low-LOW-budget filmmaking, a director with a cult following amongst those who enjoy movies in the “so-bad-they’re-good” genre. He shot most of his movies in the 1960s in Dallas, taking advantage of lots of locations around the city, even if the movies he was shooting weren’t actually set in Dallas (one movie had Highland Park Village standing in for Italy, and “Mars Needs Women” was set in Houston, even though the movie is crammed full of easily recognizable Dallas locations such as the downtown skyline and the Cotton Bowl). The movies that have earned him his place in the pantheon of cult figures are primarily his sci-fi movies, like “Mars Needs Women,” “Attack of the Eye People,” “Curse of the Swamp Creature,” and “Zontar: The Thing from Venus.” Many were re-makes of earlier low-budget sci-fi movies commissioned by American International Pictures, and Buchanan was usually the producer, director, writer, and editor — “auteur” seems like the wrong word to use here, but that’s what he was, a filmmaker intensely involved with every phase of the production.

Buchanan was born in 1923 and grew up in Buckner Orphans Home. After a fleeting thought of becoming a minister, Buchanan — long-fascinated by movies — left for Hollywood and New York where he worked as an actor in small roles or on the crew (during this time there were professional brushes with, of all people, George Cukor and Stanley Kubrick). By the early 1950s, Buchanan was back in Dallas, employed by the Jamieson Film Company (3825 Bryan St.), working on industrial films, training films, television programs, and commercials. It was at Jamieson that he learned all aspects of film production, including how to get things done quickly and how to bring projects in under budget. It’s also where he met co-workers Brownie Brownrigg, Robert B. Alcott, Bob Jessup, and Bill Stokes, all of whom went on to have film careers of their own and most of whom Buchanan used as crew members when shooting in and around the city.

It was during this period that the photo above was taken. There are countless websites out there devoted to Larry Buchanan’s film oeuvre, but there are very, very few photos of him online. I found exactly three:

larry-buchanan_bob-jessup_texas-monthly_lgLarry (left) with cinematographer Bob Jessup

larry-buchanan_tx-monthly_may-1986-photo_detIn 1986 (Tim Boole/Texas Monthly)

larry-buchananDate unknown

The photo at the top of this post is from 1955, before Buchanan had really begun cranking out his own movies. I can’t say for sure that this IS a photograph of Larry Buchanan, but it seems likely that it is. In that striped shirt, he looks like the kind of hip, energetic, ever-enthusiastic director I imagine him being. I can only hope that it IS him, straddling railroad ties, behind a camera pointed at a retrofitted Chrysler, in Dallas’ Katy railyard. One wonders if that Chrysler spot had a higher budget than some of the movies he was making ten years later. UPDATE: In the comments, below, Larry’s son Barry identifies his father in the top photo, but not as the man behind the camera, but as the man behind the car, wearing the bowtie. Thanks for the correction, Barry1)

From all reports, Larry was a tireless, driven, upbeat guy who loved making movies, and I think it would have been a lot of fun hanging out with him. If I ever have enough disposable income, I’ll fork it over and buy a copy of his entertaining-but-pricey autobiography, the well-received It Came From Hunger: Tales of a Cinema Schlockmeister (McFarland & Co., 1996).

It’s been fun researching Larry Buchanan. There’s a lot more to tackle later. I mean, I haven’t even touched on the legendary “Naughty Dallas” yet!

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Tons of links here….

First two photos and text from the Katy Employes’ Magazine (Aug. 1955).

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Katy magazine scans made with permission of the Facebook page Lone Star Library Annex.

Other examples of automobiles equipped with “railroad wheels” can be found here.

Black and white photo of Buchanan with Bob Jessup (photographer and date unknown) and the great color photo (a detail of which is shown above) by Tim Boole, both from the article, “How Bad Were They?” by Douglass St. Clair Smith (Texas Monthly, May 1986), which you can read here.

That last photo of Buchanan is all over the internet — the only one you ever really see. I don’t know who took it, when it was taken, or where it originally appeared. But it’s a great photo!

Larry Buchanan died in December, 2004, at the age of 81. His obituary from The New York Times is here.

A fond look back at Buchanan’s career by Eric Celeste appeared in the April 2005 issue of D Magazine and can be read here.

The best piece on Buchanan is “A Tribute to Larry Buchanan” by his good friend Greg Goodsell, here.

My recent post on “Mars Needs Women” — with screen caps of movie scenes shot at recognizable Dallas locations — is here.

I never did find that Chrysler spot that had been slated to appear on network TV. I have a feeling it may be in a lengthy collection of Chrysler commercials and films from 1955 which you can watch here. I couldn’t slog all the way through it, but there are a couple of “Shower of Stars” episodes, which are mentioned in the Katy article (they’re odd “entertainment” shows which seem to be nothing more than infomercials for Chrysler starring famous people in bad sketches). If anyone actually finds footage that was filmed that day in Dallas, please let me know!

And, lastly, Larry Buchanan’s movies are fun, but some are more fun than others, “if you know what I mean, and I think you do” (as Joe Bob Briggs — surely one of Larry’s biggest admirers — might say). Many of them are available to watch in their entirety online. Check YouTube and Google.

Click photos for larger images!

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

Deco Idealized: Fair Park Before the Centennial Exposition — 1936

tx-centennial_dmfa_bandshell

by Paula Bosse

The first rendering is so sleek and sharp and perfect that I want to cry. But the artist’s second conception? Well, now I know what the Fair Park band shell would look like plopped down in the middle of the manicured grounds of an English estate or an Italian villa (or maybe in the Clampetts’ backyard, out past the cement pond). …And it still looks damn good.

Text from the back of this postcard:

The center of musical activity will be the open air band shell and amphitheater, a permanent feature of the Civic Center — seating capacity, 5,000 — the band shell accommodates 150-piece band. The most imposing structure in the Civic Center is the Hall of Fine Arts, constructed of Texas stone, cost $500,000, housing a $5,000,000 art collection assembled from all parts of the world.

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Click picture for much larger image.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

The Marsalis House: One of Oak Cliff’s “Most Conspicuous Architectural Landmarks”

marsalis_sanitarium_oak-cliffThe fabulous Marsalis house in Oak Cliff (click for larger image)

by Paula Bosse

The Marsalis Sanitarium was a 15-bed private surgical and convalescent hospital in Oak Cliff, established in 1905 by Dr. J. H. Reuss and his partner, Dr. James H. Smart. Whether or not that building was actually pink (and I certainly hope that it was!), it was most definitely a show-stopper — one of those stunning structures that one doesn’t expect to see in and around Dallas because almost none of them still stand.

This grand home was built by Oak Cliff promoter and developer Thomas L. Marsalis in about 1889 as his personal residence at a reported cost of $65,000 (the equivalent of more than $1,750,000 in today’s money). It was located at what is now the southwest corner of Marsalis Avenue and Colorado Boulevard. The house was apparently never occupied. Supposedly, Marsalis’ wife did not want to live there because it was “too far from town” (!), but Marsalis’ financial distress throughout this time was probably more to blame.

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Dallas Morning News

Marsalis’ insolvency resulted in the foreclosure of the house in the early 1890s and its ultimate sale at public auction in 1903. The winning bidder at that auction was Dr. Reuss, and the house became the Marsalis Sanitarium soon after.

marsalis-sanitarium_tx-state-journal-medical-advertiser_dec-1905_portal
1905 ad (click for larger image)

marsalis_sanitarium_dmn_010109DMN, Jan. 1, 1909

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Worley’s City Directory, 1909

Sometime after 1909 it became a girls’ seminary, and then in 1913 it fell into private hands. On August 10, 1914 the poor house burned to the ground. The headlines the next day read:

“Oil Starts Oak Cliff Early Morning Fire; Fisher Asserts Some One Set Old Building Ablaze; Firemen Find Structure Completely Enveloped in Flames and Interior Roaring Furnace.”

marsalis-house-fire_dmn_081114DMN, Aug. 11, 1914

Such a sad ending for such a beautiful house!

marsalis-home

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Sources & Notes

1905 ad for the Marsalis Sanitarium from the December 1905 issue of the Texas State Journal of Medicine, found on the Portal to Texas History, here.

Black and white photograph of the Marsalis home in 1895 from the article in Legacies magazine, “Where Did Thomas L. Marsalis Go?” by James Barnes and Sharon Marsalis (which can be read here); photo from the collection of the Dallas Public Library.

For a biography of the family of Dr. Joseph H. Reuss, proprietor of the Marsalis Sanitarium, see here.

Click pictures for larger images.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

 

Back When the Kessler Couldn’t Catch a Break — 1957

kessler-theater-after-tornado_1957

by Paula Bosse

One of the casualties of the famous tornado that hit Dallas and Oak Cliff in 1957 was the Kessler Theater. In 1957, the Kessler — then only 15 years old — had hit hard times and was being used to house an evangelical church. It was rebuilt after the tornado, but soon after it was hit by a three-alarm fire. Conclusion? Do not disturb the entertainment gods — that place was meant to be a theater!

kessler_tornado_sherrod

From the post-tornado reports in The Dallas Morning News:

At the West Davis and Clinton business district, an evangelical church in a converted theater building at the intersection was caved in, leaving little more than two walls standing. The church’s cross from atop its more than 50-foot tower was crumpled in the gutter. (DMN, April 3, 1957)

And in a survey of the clean-up:

At Davis and Clinton, where the old Kessler Theater was being used as a revival center before the tornado, workmen were busy wrecking the building, completing what the tornado had started. […] J. T. Hooten, foreman for Winston A. Caldwell, explained that the damaged sections of the theater which might give way under a slight strain and cause further damage had to be torn out. His crew carefully but hurriedly dismantled the old Davis Street landmark. Hooten said the owner may rebuild the theater as a 1-story office building. (DMN, April 10, 1957)

Here is a detail of an aerial photo by photographer Squire Haskins, showing the damaged Kessler in the center (see the full, very large photo here):

kessler_tornado_squire-haskins_UTA_det

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Sources & Notes

Top photo from an incredibly detailed website devoted to the 1957 Dallas tornado, the home page of which can be seen here.

Second photo from D. Troy Sherrod’s Historic Dallas Theatres (Charleston: Arcadia Publishing, 2014); photo from the collection of the Dallas Public Library.

Aerial photograph by Squire Haskins from the Squire Haskins Photography, Inc. Collection, UTA Libraries, Special Collections; more information is here (click the thumbnail to see a larger image).

Website of the recently (and beautifully) restored Kessler is here.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

 

The Statler Hilton: Dallas Has It All … Again

statler-hotel

by Paula Bosse

It’s alive!

The old Statler Hilton looks like it might finally be renovated! Read about the exciting plans here.

Click picture for larger image.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

“There Are Eight Million Stories in the Naked City…” — ca. 1920

1-ervay

by Paula Bosse

The photograph above, by George A. McAfee, shows Ervay Street, looking south from Main, in about 1920. Neiman’s is on the right. I’m not sure what the occasion was (I see special-event bunting….), but the two things that jump out right away are the number of people on the sidewalks and the amount of  congestion on the streets. In addition to private automobiles (driven by “automobilists” or “autoists,” as the papers of the day referred to them), the street is also packed with cars standing in the taxi rank (cab stand) at the left, and a long line of hulking streetcars. This busy intersection is jammed to capacity.

The city of Dallas was desperately trying to relieve its traffic problems around this time, and there were numerous articles in the papers addressing the concerns of how to manage the congestion of streets not originally designed to handle motor vehicle traffic. Dallas and Fort Worth were working on similar plans of re-routing traffic patterns and instituting something called “skip stop” wherein streetcars would stop every other block rather than every block. Streetcars, in fact, though convenient and necessary, seemed to cause the most headaches as far as backing up and slowing down traffic, as they were constantly stopping to take on and let off passengers. There was something called a “safety zone” that was being tried at the time. I’m not sure I completely understand it, but it allowed cars to pass streetcars in certain areas while they were stopped.

That traffic is crazy. But, to be perfectly honest, it’s far less interesting than all that human activity — hundreds of people just going about their daily business. It’s always fun to zoom in on these photos, and, below, I’ve broken the original photograph into several little vignettes. I love the people hanging out the Neiman-Marcus windows. And all those newsboys! Not quite as charming was all that overhead clutter of power lines and telephone lines; combined with the street traffic, it makes for a very claustrophobic — if vibrant — downtown street scene. (Click photos for larger images.)

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3-ervay

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5-ervayMy favorite “hidden” image in the larger photograph. The only moment of calm.

6-ervayI love this. The woman in front of the Neiman-Marcus plaque looking off into the distance, the display in the store window, the newsboy running down the street, the man in suspenders, the women’s fashions, and all those hats!

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8-ervayA barefoot boy and litter everywhere.

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11-ervayThe congestion is pretty bad above the streets, too.

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13-ervayCabbies, newsboys, and working stiffs.

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15-ervayI swear there was only one streetcar driver in Dallas, and he looked like this! Those motormen had a definite “look.”

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Sources & Notes

Original photograph attributed to George A. McAfee, from the DeGolyer Library, Central University Libraries, Southern Methodist University, accessible here.

For other photos I’ve zoomed in on the details, see here.

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

The Rolling Hills of Highland Park — 1911

highland-park_armstrong-1911Armstrong Avenue (click for larger image)

by Paula Bosse

Highland Park in its early days of development. The postcards above and below show Armstrong Avenue, looking east, from about Preston Road.

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An even earlier view can be seen in the postcard below (ca. 1908), which shows “Berkeley Avenue,” the original name of Armstrong (see newspaper clippings at the bottom of this post for more on Berkeley Ave.).

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All of these postcards show what looks to be the bridge over a stretch of Turtle Creek then called Lake Neoma.

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I’m not sure when the name “Lake Neoma” ceased to be used (I believe it’s now Wycliff Ave. Lake), but here is a nifty little drawing of it from a 1915 map from the Flippen-Prather Realty Co., the developers of Highland Park.

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Berkeley Avenue was renamed Armstrong Avenue around 1908 or 1909 in honor of John S. Armstrong, who developed the land that later became Highland Park (East). Below is a photo and paragraph of an article from the Sept. 13, 1908 edition of The Dallas Morning News (the Argyle Avenue mentioned was later renamed as an extension of Oak Lawn Ave.)

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Dallas Morning News, Sept. 13, 1908 (photo and excerpt)

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Postcards from Flickr. “Berkeley Avenue” from Flickr, here (it is suggested that this shows Berkley Ave. in Oak Cliff, but this is incorrect — it is definitely Highland Park).

Map is a detail from the Flippen-Prather map of 1915, which can be viewed here.

Click pictures for larger images (top image and map are HUGE).

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.

Neiman-Marcus Celebrates the Texas Centennial with “Cactus Colors” and Cattlebrands Burned Into Rawhide Belts — 1936

neiman-marcus_shoes_vogue-1936-det

by Paula Bosse

Texans celebrate history with — what else? — fashion! Below, text from a Neiman-Marcus ad which appeared on the eve of the huge Texas Centennial celebrations in 1936.

Five days before the Centennial finds Neiman-Marcus keyed for last-minute demands … both in selections and service … Spectator clothes and accessories in cactus colors (see current Vogue), and Artcraft stockings, thin as a web, in Texas range colors … Cool snowy crepe dresses for the afternoon and printed chiffon jacket dresses for Centennial sightseeing … Cottons gifted with importance … Crownless roof hats and trailing garden party dresses … Cattlebrands burned on a rawhide belt that girdles a crisp white watching dress. All in the best of taste and at a happy range of prices.

And then I looked for the Vogue ads mentioned and … wow! I’ve had a vintage advertising blog for several years, and I’ve seen a lot of ads … but these may be my favorites! All as a tie-in to the Texas Centennial, celebrated in Dallas in 1936, spear-headed by Stanley Marcus himself. Thanks, Mr. Stanley!

neiman-marcus_shoes_vogue-1936

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Color ads from Vogue, June 1936. I found them on Etsy from this seller (the ads have, apparently, been sold). I would LOVE to see these with the watermarks removed, and I’d also love to know what became of the original artwork and who “N. de Molas” was. I love Texas kitsch and I love fashion illustration from this period, and this is fantastic! Click color pictures for much larger images! And read that copy, man.

If you want to wander around a whole bunch of vintage advertising, my Retro Adverto blog is here, but it has been sadly neglected since my immersion into this blog!

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Copyright © 2014 Paula Bosse. All Rights Reserved.