ROSE O'NEILL didn't just draw Kewpie dolls

Raise your hand if you ever had a Kewpie, know of anyone that had a Kewpie, or if you don't know what I'm talking about. How about a Kewpie on a stick? I had one of those. A celluloid Kewpie on a lightweight cane with feathers attached to the handle. I think I got it on the boardwalk at either Ocean City or Atlantic City. Never came out of storage. Long gone.

If you're new to Kewpies I'll give you a brief bit of info. Rose O'Neill invented the Kewpies around 1908-1909 following a divorce.
Disappointed and melancholy, she returned to Bonniebrook once more. It was here that the plump little elf-like creatures called Kewpies came to her, literally. She claims that they appeared to her in a dream and when she awoke, they were all over her room. In actuality, she had been drawing little cupids as headpieces and tailpieces for her magazine work. In 1909, Edward Bok suggested to her that she do a series of drawings featuring the little creatures as the main character. They were inspired by her baby brother and Cupid, the god of love, “but there is a difference,” she said. “Cupid gets himself into trouble. The Kewpies get themselves out, always searching out ways to make the world better and funnier.” They made their first public appearance in Woman’s Home Companion in December of 1909. They were immediately popular and quickly became a large merchandising industry. (SOURCE: Women's Children Book Illustrators)
O'Neill had an interesting and rather heartbreaking life which you can read about at the site listed as a source above, Women's Children Book Illustrators and at the official Rose O'Neill site.

Well, you'll be relieved to find out I'm not sharing anything to do with Kewpies today. Instead I'm giving you some lovely illustrations I found in a 1929 Cosmopolitan magazine. Four illustrations done by O'Neill for a retelling of Beauty and the Beast by John Erskine. I think these are a real find!

Rose O'Neill_BatB1_1929_tatteredandlost

Rose O'Neill_BatB2_1929_tatteredandlost

Rose O'Neil_BatB3_1929_tatteredandlost

Rose O'Neill_BatB4_1929_tatteredandlost
Click on any image to see it larger.



When I first saw the Ovaltine ad I posted yesterday my first thought was how similar it looked to my favorite paper doll set, Seven and Seventeen.

I'm putting out a challenge to the paper doll obsessors out there to find the name of the artist for the cover of Seven and Seventeen: Big and Little Sister. I know I've read it somewhere, but can't find it. I've looked through the Mary Young books about the different artists, but don't see it mentioned. I'd sure appreciate the help.

Seven and Seventeen paper doll_ft_tatteredandlost

Seven and Seventeen paper doll_bk_tatteredandlost
Click on either image to see them larger. © 1945 Merrill Publishing Company,

Mine is a mint set. I spent a few years trying to get one. I mean, it's incredibly mint and I love it. That's why I'm not going to open it and scan the pages. I'm not messing with this one. For those not acquainted with this set I'll tell you that the pages inside are full of color. Each page shows a small scene of the sisters doing something dressed in matching outfits. Truly a wonderful set when paper dolls were in their hey-day.

Now I ask you, is anybody getting their money's worth here? Getting enough bang for your buck? If not let me know. What is it you'd rather be seeing?

UPDATE: I've received an anonymous comment informing me that the illustrator for these dolls/cover were done by pin-up artist Pearl Fresh. Thank you very much for filling in the pieces!

You can see more of her beautiful work by clicking on the source at the end of this brief bio.
Pearl Frush

As one of the top three women pin-up and glamour artists in the calendar art market at mid-century, Pearl Frush readily commanded the respect of the art directors, publishers, sales managers, and printers with whom she worked. Yet because she worked primarily in watercolour and gouache, her originals could rarely be reproduced in large enough quantities for her to achieve widespread popular acclaim. A close examination of her work, however, reveals a talent for meticulously realistic images comparable to those of the far better known Alberto Vargas.

Frush was born in Iowa and moved to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi as a child. She began drawing as soon as she could hold a crayon in her hand; when she was ready for formal studies, she enrolled in art instruction courses in New Orleans. After additional training in Philadelphia and New York, Frush joined her family in Chicago, where she studied at the Chicago Art Institute under Charles Schroeder.

Frush opened her first studio in Chicago in the early 1940s. While she accepted freelance jobs, she also worked at the studio of Sundblom, Johnston, and White. By 1943, she had become one of the Gerlach-Barklow Calendar Company's most important artists, creating a string of popular series: Liberty Belles, Sweethearts of Sports, Girls of Glamour and Glamour Round the Clock. In 1947, her Aquatour series, a dozen pin-ups all located in aquatic settings, broke all sales records. By 1955, Frush had become a "hot property" in the calendar-publishing business, so it was only natural that Brown and Bigelow should seek her out. A year later, the firm published its first Frush pin-up, a horizontal picture especially done for "hangers" (large wall calendars with one print attached).

A vigorous and attractive woman, Frush enjoyed sailing, canoeing, swimming, and playing tennis, and she would often incorporate sport themes into her work portrayed in a crisp, straightforward style, her pin-ups and glamour paintings effectively captured the spirit of young womanhood. Her girls were wholesome and fresh, shapely but never overtly sexual. Somehow they were able to look both like movie stars and like the girls-next-door.

She sometimes signed her paintings with her married name "Mann". Her renderings were always done with great precision, capturing every nuance of a subject in an almost photo-realist technique.(SOURCE: The Pin-Up Files)


UPDATE: Another anonymous comment about who the illustrator was:
I contacted OleButtonz on ebay (not realizing she died two years ago. She had bought out all of Merrill's remaining paper dolls and asked her about the illustrator of Seven and Seventeen. Her son answered me and said Clara Ernst is the illustrator of the cover and the inside pages.



I've tried and tried to prove to you the benefits of Log Cabin Syrup and, as of my January 10th post, Ovaltine. If you're still a non-believer in the benefits of these products I want you to take a gander at what's below and tell me you aren't throughly convinced that you need to put a little Ovaltine in your life, especially if you're a guy.

Ovaltine ad_Jan. 1947_SEP_tatteredandlost
SOURCE: January 1947 Saturday Evening Post

Were they serious? Did they actually think the sexy babe with the line "Just try this at bedtime tonight!" wasn't pushing it a bit? I find this to be so incredibly amazing. The Quik Bunny simply doesn't stand a chance if Ovaltine brings this line of marketing back.

And then read the first paragraph:
"There's no point in waking up worn and listless—not when there's a simple, pleasant routine that's brought radiant morning freshness to thousands. So why not try it—see if you don't get your youthful sparkle and vitality back again!"
Ummmm...are we talking about the same thing? Do they actually think our first thought is chocolate malted milk?

Okay, here's the deal, this was in 1947. The war was over, the guys were coming home, the women were being forced back into the home, and Ovaltine was using pinups to advertise their product. I get it:
malt flavored chocolate drink at bedtime + babe = sex
Today we get a couple of idiots sitting in adjacent bathtubs for Cialis. I mean, each time I see those commercials I scream at the tv:
"The problem is you're doing it wrong! Get one tub. Just one!"
If Ovaltine ever realizes the potential market out there and starts advertising again during the nightly news, making sure their ads come on right after a Cialis commercial with a babe in a negligee cooing at the screen:
Having that annoying little problem? Not perky anymore? Don't end up in separate bathtubs. Just drink a steaming cup of Ovaltine each night. You'll get your vitality back. Try it tonight. It's a way lots of people use to get a lot more fun out of life!
Guys would be lined up around the block to get their buzzer pushed by her.

I swear I just never know where ephemera is going to take me next.

UPDATE: I've found out who the artist is of this piece. Her name is Joyce Ballantyne Brand. She is the person responsible for the little Coppertone girl with the dog ads in the 1950s. Remember that ad? She was also a famous pin-up artist.

Here's a brief Wikipedia bio:
Joyce Ballantyne (April 4, 1918 – May 15, 2006) was a painter of pin-up art. She is best known as the designer of the Coppertone girl, whose swimming costume is being pulled down by a dog.

Early life and career
She was born in Norfolk, Nebraska during World War I, and grew up in Omaha. She attended the University of Nebraska for two years and then transferred to the Art Institute of Chicago to study commercial art and the American Academy of Art.

After two years at the Art Institute, Ballantyne joined Kling Studios, where she painted Rand McNally maps and illustrated books for Cameo Press. She then moved to the Stevens-Gross Studio, where she remained for more than a decade. While at the studio, she became part of a group of artists that included Gil Elvgren, Al Moore, and Al Buell.

Pinup girls
In 1945 Ballantyne began painting pin-ups for Brown & Bigelow, having been recommended by Gil Elvgren. While there, she designed direct mail pin-up brochures for the company, and was eventually given the honor of creating an Artist's Sketch Pad twelve page calendar. She often used herself as a model. In 1954, Ballantyne painted twelve pin-ups for a calendar published by Shaw-Barton. Upon the calendar's release in 1955, demand was so great that the company reprinted it many times.

Ballantyne then went on to paint one of the most famous advertising images ever, when Coppertone suntan lotion asked her to create a billboard image in 1959. That image, of a pigtailed girl with her bathing suit being tugged down by a small dog, has become an American icon. Her daughter Cheri Brand was used as the model for the girl.

Joyce Ballantyne eventually moved into the realm of portraits and fine art, painting the portraits of scores of entertainment and sports personalities as well as luminaries from the business, social, and academic worlds. Subjects included comedian Jonathan Winters, Robert Smalley of Hertz, and Major General John Leonard Hines.

In 1974, Ballantyne moved with her husband to Ocala, Florida where she lived until her death.
Now Al Buell might sound familiar because I did a post about him called Al Buell, Brown and Bigelow, and TED MANTES.

To see more of Joyce's pin-up work click here and here. And here is an interview done just a few years before she died.
Real Florida: Red-faced with the Coppertone Girl

It's one of the most memorable ads ever produced, but at 48, its model would like to put those bare buns behind her. Her mother the artist, though, was willing to talk.

Published September 5, 2004

OCALA - When I was a boy, growing up in Miami, we often drove across MacArthur Causeway on our way to the beach. Near Biscayne Boulevard, on the side of a downtown building, was the biggest billboard I had ever seen. On the billboard, a dog was pulling down the bathing trunks of a little girl in pigtails.

Eisenhower was still president, and everybody was repressed except maybe those finger-snapping, reefer-smoking, free-sex beatniks in Greenwich Village, so it was shocking to be able to look out the window of our Nash Rambler and see an innocent little girl's butt cheeks being exposed by a rude dog for all the world to see.

"Don't be a pale face," said the letters on the sign. "Use Coppertone."
That ad for suntan lotion was among the most memorable come-ons in perhaps the golden age of advertising. You could see the ad on street corners in San Francisco and in Manhattan, on the blue highways of the Great Plains and here and there throughout the Wheat Belt.

The Coppertone Girl, it turned out, was as American as a Moon Pie. But if you lived here back then, if you lived anywhere near a beach, you considered the ad as quintessential Florida. It was a postcard of sorts that celebrated the sand and the sun and our state as a place where anything could happen.

Recently, I made a telephone call to a woman named Cheri Brand to ask if I could drive up to Ocala and talk to her about the Coppertone ad. There was silence on the phone; reporters learn to dread silence. Finally she said, "Oh, no. Not that. It's so old. You don't want to write about that. Really. Nobody cares."

The Coppertone Girl with the bare cheeks, now 48, was in no mood to bare her soul.

"You know," she said, "you don't want to talk to me. You want to talk to my mother. My mother is much more interesting than I'll ever be. Mother is the real story."

Usually, when somebody says don't talk to me, talk to my mother instead, a reporter comes down with the willies. The gray-haired mother produced by the reluctant interviewee turns out to be a saint who whips up apple butter by the gallon, or a kindly grandma who knits smiley faces on feathery quilts for shivering orphans, or a reincarnated Elizabeth Browning who minutes ago finished writing an 800-line poem about her cat, Slinky, and is looking for a publisher.

Not that there is anything regrettable about quilts, apple butter and cat poetry that always rhymes moon with spoon.

Joyce Ballantyne Brand, 86, was the opposite of an apple butter gal. I did not bring a martini shaker with me to Ocala, but I should have.

More to life than Coppertone
"Mind if I smoke?" she asked in a nicotine voice. "My whole house is my ashtray."

"Mother," said her daughter, the reluctant Coppertone Girl, "be careful of what you say to a reporter. They're always looking for something to make the story better."

Joyce Ballantyne Brand, a commercial artist who gave the world the Coppertone Girl, the Pampers Baby and countless half-dressed women who posed on many a risque calendar, gazed across the table at me through giant pink eyeglasses and the haze of cigarette smoke. I got the feeling she knew how to handle hayseed reporters.

"So whattya want to know?" she growled.

I wanted to know everything, I confessed, from the beginning to now, but especially about the Coppertone Girl that had titillated me as a young boy.

"Be careful, Mother," said her daughter from across the table. "Don't use any swear words."

"Ah, I won't," she said. "But you know, I get tired of talking about the Coppertone Girl. Yeah, it was a good billboard, but it was hardly the only art I ever produced. But that's what everybody remembers. That's what everybody wants to talk about. The Coppertone Girl."

I felt my face grow hot.

"Hey," she said. "Go use the bathroom."

Blushing even more, I stole a quick glance at my fly. Zipper closed, thank God. But I had drunk a quart of coffee on my drive north, so I did as ordered.

In the bathroom I was admired by a life-sized mermaid sprawled in the tub. The sculpture had fine, shapely hips and more than ample breasts.

"Well," Joyce Ballantyne Brand said when I emerged, "at least I didn't make her face very pretty. Otherwise she'd be obscene."

From paper dolls to pinups
So the mother of the reluctant Coppertone Girl told me her story. She said she was born in Nebraska near the end of World War I and liked drawing and making paper dolls; during the Depression she sold paper dolls for a buck apiece. She said she habitually entered art contests and won a scholarship to Disney's School for Animation in California. She remembered the day when the Disney representative heard her girlish, teenage voice over the phone and rescinded the scholarship. Women married and had babies and gave up careers, she was informed. A woman was a poor investment.

"Not the last time I heard that," Joyce growled.

She spent two years at the University of Nebraska and two years at the American Academy of Art in Chicago. She met and married her first husband, artist Eddie Augustiny. She said she drew pictures for dictionaries, did maps for Rand McNally, painted murals for movie theaters and learned to fly a plane. She was barely 25.

"This is what you want to hear about?" she asked. "It's so boring."

World War II began, and even male artists got drafted. Doors opened to women, and her old college professor, the famous pinup artist Gil Elvgren, got her a job at a studio known for churning out the sexiest calendars on earth. Even closing in on 90, Joyce is an attractive woman. As a young woman, she resembled the Donna Reed in From Here to Eternity, only earthier. Often she used herself as a model, gazing into the mirror while painting a buxom doll who later would be admired in a greasy garage by drooling auto mechanics. Today, her pinups are collector items.

She showed me a few. They weren't naked.

"Mine always had some clothes on or at least a towel on," she said in that smoky voice. "I didn't go in for dirty stuff like they do today."
My face grew hot again.

"Mother," said her daughter, the reluctant Coppertone Girl, "tell him your philosophy about pinups."

"The trick is to make a pinup flirtatious," Joyce said. "But you don't do dirty. You want the girl to look a little like your sister, or maybe your girlfriend, or just the girl next door. She's a nice girl, she's innocent, but maybe she got caught in an awkward situation that's a little sexy."

Joyce and her husband divorced. She married a TV executive, Jack Brand, and they had lots of laughs together. He was creative; she was creative. They had their own lives and interests and always supported each other and avoided jealousy.

She used him as a model for a famous ad for Schlitz beer. She did portraits of the well-known and the little-known. Sometimes, when subjects wouldn't relax, Joyce threatened to get them drunk. Whiskey worked wonders.

In 1947, she began a long association with Sports Afield, the outdoors magazine. Her illustrations accompanied the stories. One time she painted a mermaid on the cover. Full of mischief, the mermaid hung boots and tires on the hooks of oblivious anglers. The mermaid - Joyce again had used her comely self as a model - was quite provocative. Some readers objected: How dare she lead men and boys astray in a magazine devoted to an innocent
pursuit like fishing?

Joyce lost no sleep about the complaints.

Interesting, but I brought up Coppertone to Joyce. Tell me about Coppertone.

Well, okay, Joyce said. The boring Coppertone story. In 1959, Coppertone solicited drawings from prominent commercial artists for a new ad campaign. She was given a few examples, stick-figure drawings, to go by. Using her daughter, then 3, as a model, she did a few sketches.

"I made Cheri look a little older and gave her shorter legs. They liked my paintings, and I got the job."

Joyce received $2,500, a good day's work.

"Just another ad," she said. "Just another baby ad. Kind of boring."

Don't ask to see the tan line
Joyce did not do boredom well. The Brands moved to Ocala in the mid 1970s so Joyce could be near her parents, but she hated Ocala. She was used to Chicago. She was used to a penthouse in Manhattan and artsy friends who smoked pipes and drank martinis. It was hot and buggy in Florida. Frogs grunted and alligators roared. People ate grits, for heaven's sake. They ate fried catfish. "Backward. Not even a Federal Express office. I'd go to a paint store for supplies and would literally find a sign on the door that said, "Gone Fishing.' I didn't think I'd be here long."

She and Jack took possession of a grand old three-story building in downtown Ocala. In 1985, Jack developed a cough that was diagnosed as lung cancer. "I could kill him for dying," Joyce told people at the funeral. Recently she gave her sprawling third-floor studio to her daughter, Cheri, and to Cheri's husband, for living quarters. Now Joyce lives on the second floor, which is filled with her art and her memories.

Her daughter helps out when she is not working at the YMCA, where she is a personal trainer. Cheri still has blond hair like she did when she was the Coppertone Girl but doesn't braid it into pigtails. She has a good tan, and I was tempted to ask about her tan line but lost my nerve.

"People can be incredibly boring about the Coppertone Girl," she said. "Sometimes they ask to see my tan line. It's irritating."

I felt my face grow hot.

"People seem very excited to learn that I was the Coppertone baby, and they share stories of how the billboard was a landmark in their memories. In 1993, there seemed to be a renewed interest. I was invited to appear on the Sally Jessy show and Entertainment Tonight. Anyway, that's about it."

The Coppertone Girl's mother told me to follow her. As she showed me stuff, Joyce used her walker to get around her home. She showed me her paintings of circus clowns. She showed me her painting of an alligator. She is painting a portrait of a friend ill with Lou Gehrig's disease and wants to capture the woman's impish personality. She doesn't want a sad painting.

"Too much sadness in the world already."

She will take her time. When you are 86, and you need a walker and have arthritis in your hands, you take your time even if you are 26 in your heart.

In the morning, she drinks Ovaltine, a habit she picked up when she illustrated an Ovaltine ad in the 1940s. In the afternoon she sips Yoo-Hoo. In the evening - Joyce was always an evening person - she will not turn down a stiff martini.

"I've had my chance to remarry," she said, leaning close and igniting another Benson and Hedges. "Men with money, too. I like men, I value their companionship, but I don't want to get married again." (SOURCE: St. Petersburg Times)
Researching ephemera sooner or later brings you back around into a circle. It's sort of like playing the Kevin Bacon game. Which by the way I suddenly realized the other day a friend and I could play and we'd be only a few degrees away. I think it was 4 degrees.

New book available on Amazon.
Tattered and Lost: Forgotten Dolls

This one is for those who love dolls!

Snapshots from the last 100+ years of children and adults with dolls. Okay, there are a couple of dogs too.

Perfect stocking stuffer!


No Log Cabin in site for new GLUYAS WILLIAMS

Hold your breath ladies and gents. I present a full two page spread of Gluyas Williams with no advertising attached. This is just pure Gluyas.

Do click on the image to see it larger. There's a lot going on here.

Gluyas Williams_1929_tatteredandlost
SOURCE: May 1929 Cosmopolitan

To see previous posts about Gluyas, well...okay, they weren't always about Gluyas. They were usually about Log Cabin Syrup, but the posts wouldn't have happened without Gluyas. Click here, here, here, here, and here for more Gluyas. There's probably more, but hey, enjoy the hunt.

She'd only read PERRY MASON

I once had a landlady who would only read Perry Mason books. She was elderly, a Phi Beta Kappa, Berkeley graduate, and the widow of a judge. I believe her family had known Earl Stanley Gardner, the creator of Perry Mason. They had also known Jack London, but those books didn't interest her.

She had a stack of well worn Mason's that she'd read over and over. Some held together with rubber bands. I started checking Mason books out of the library for her. Then I began buying them for her at the bookstore. She always paid me back. This was at a time when Earl Stanley Gardner was still being published. Good luck finding any Perry Mason books new on a shelf these days.

Anyway, I also started hunting in thrift stores and used book stores. I enjoyed it. I kept a list with me of the ones I'd bought so I wouldn't buy duplicates for her. I enjoyed the hunt. I wasn't keeping them. I'd even find them on vacation and be thrilled when I got home with my new treasure for her. Always she'd pay me back, even when I'd insist it was a gift.

When my landlady died I asked her family, a husband and wife related to her through her deceased husband, if I could have the Perry Mason collection. Okay, this still irks me. They were so incredibly petty. They'd never shown interest in these books. They'd never bought her any. There were over 50 books in the collection, all paperbacks from various time periods. A really interesting range of covers. Weeks and weeks passed until one day the guy shows up with a box. He said, "Here, my wife kept the rest." What do you think they gave me? The ones falling apart. The ones with rubber bands holding them together. Basically if it was still in useable condition the wife kept it. Annoying people.

Because I spent so many years looking for Perry Mason books I still look for them. Now I buy them out of habit if they have an old interesting cover. I have about 25 books, most in sad condition. Make that VERY sad condition. Below are the rare exceptions.

I have no idea about illustrators for any of them. No information is given.

Oh, and I once went to the home of Raymond Burr, television's Perry Mason. This was after he had died and I was with a group, there to see his hot house. Sound's odd, doesn't it? Well he had a stunning collection of orchids. A hot house full of them. He was renowned for cultivating the mysterious and temperamental flower. You can still visit the hot house at his winery, Raymond Burr Vineyards.


September 1910 CREAM OF WHEAT AD

I like this ad. I know what it represents historically, but I can for a moment brush that aside and just enjoy the ad. I like the chef. He makes me happy. It's a piece of ephemera that carries a lot of baggage. I'll let someone else tell the history of Cream of Wheat and explain why the ad is wrong. I know it's wrong...but I still like it. This appeared on the inside cover of the September 1910 Delineator.

Cream of Wheat ad_Sept1910_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.

To see more ads click here.

The following is from the January 21, 2003 North Dakota State University - NDSU Agriculture Communication. I'll let Tom Isern do the explaining:
January 31, 2003

Plains Folk: Cream of Wheat
Tom Isern, Professor of History
North Dakota State University

It would be nice to think, as I cook up a pot of Cream of Wheat, that I were doing something prairie-patriotic. Cream of Wheat originated in Grand Forks, you know.

And it’s a good winter breakfast, with plenty of that standard lubricant for prairie diners, butter. Some sugar and cinnamon. And I stir in some homemade applesauce. Maybe then it’s my apples I like better than the Cream of Wheat, and so I’d really like to get some patriotic points for using the product. The problem is, history is against me on that.

Here’s the standard story on the origins of Cream of Wheat. (I rely here mainly on Bill Stolt’s account in a local history, “They Came to Stay.”) In the 1890s the Diamond Mill of Grand Forks had fallen on hard times due to the economic depression that began in 1893. The head miller, Thomas S. Amidon, convinced the partners (Emery Mapes, George Bull, and George Clifford, Sr.) that they should try making a porridge product using farina, that is, the “purified middlings” of the mill. George Clifford’s brother, Fred Sr., came up with the name Cream of Wheat because the product was so white.

This tapped into a couple of American sentiments of the time. The first was the concern about health and the role of grains in maintaining it. There were other grainy hot cereals around, such as Mello-Wheat, Wheatena and Post-O. The other appealing aspect was that the new cereal was white. White, especially around the turn of the 20th century, symbolized wholesome middle-class purity in the kitchen.

So Amidon shipped some of the new product to the mill’s broker in New York, who wired back not to send any more flour that was in surplus but “send us Cream of Wheat.” Soon it became the mill’s chief product.

The product has the cachet of humble origins. Amidon cut the first carton containers by hand. Mapes, a printer, did the labels, which included the image of what they then called a “colored chef,” a saucepan over his shoulder.

The company made good in great American success story fashion. In 1939 Cream of Wheat was enough of a bright spot in the midst of the Great Depression that Fortune magazine wrote it up and said, “It is a kind of Yankee fairy story.”

“Few breakfast foods,” recounted the journal, “hot or cold, have embedded themselves as firmly in the American taste as Cream of Wheat.”

Nowadays, though, I’m not digesting my Cream of Wheat so well. Of course, it’s no longer a homegrown enterprise. It was acquired in 1961 by the National Biscuit Company, and after that by Kraft, which today maintains a nice Cream of Wheat Web site (just type in www.creamofwheat.com), history and recipes and all. Kraft holds no sentimental appeal for me.

Moreover, there is the race issue. Cream of Wheat to this day features a smiling black chef on the box. Kraft insists there is nothing derogatory about this, the image is respectful and honorific, but that is bogus. Cream of Wheat advertising historically featured a black cook preparing steaming white cereal for white middle-class kids. The name of the black cook--I swear I am not making this up, Fortune wrote about it and thought it was cool--was Rastus.

That’s still not what bothers my digestion, though. The first thing historical I read about Cream of Wheat was an article in the Know Your North Dakota series disseminated by the Greater North Dakota Association (state chamber of commerce) in 1960. I read it in the collections of the North Dakota State University Institute for Regional Studies. The articles were distributed to promote state spirit.

Didn’t anybody at the GNDA vet these articles before they went out? Or did they just miss the point entirely? Cream of Wheat moved from Grand Forks to Minneapolis in 1897. After a promising start, it got the heck out of North Dakota. It may be a great business story, but it’s not a great North Dakota story.

OK, I still eat the stuff, but I no longer point to it as a matter of North Dakota pride.

Source: Tom Isern
Editor: Rich Mattern
Update: I just found this site, Grapefruit Moon Gallery, which sells vintage original illustrations and they show a beautiful illustration for Cream of Wheat. Really stunning. Wish I could afford it. Anyway, the following information in the copy about the man in the ads:
The advertising also created one of the most recognizable, storied, and controversial fictional personalities in American history; Rastus the Chef. Based upon a photograph of African American chef Frank White, Rastus presided over Cream of Wheat boxes and appeared in the company’s color advertising campaign from much of the 20th century. His face was often presented as a photo element within the artwork so as to brand a single image of the iconic character. This photo element would be applied to the canvas and painted over and colored as needed by the artist. After the urging of the NAACP Cream of Wheat abandoned the name Rastus (one of many derogatory names used as racial slurs in the late 19th/early 20th century), but the chef remained an integral part of the brand. Always shown smiling, benevolent, and offering comfort, the chef presents an idyllic view of traditional America. This America holds a pre-industrial sense of the bounty of the heartland and also many of the racial tensions inherent to this agrarian image of America. The tension between the sometimes uncomfortable depictions of the Chef and the incredibly poignant nostalgic visions of a timeless America only adds to the historic significance of this uniquely American art. (SOURCE: Grapefruit Moon)


Mellin's Food 1914 PAPER DOLL AD

Paper doll collectors are a little crazy, obsessed. I can attest to that. We see, we want. Then we move on to the next one. Of course collectors in general are a little obsessed. For many of us it's the hunt and acquisition. I do enjoy the hunt.

This isn't an actual paper doll, merely the ad for one from the July 1914 Delineator. Or more accurately an ad for a trade card that could be played with like a paper doll. For the price of a 2 cent stamp you could order this doll from the Mellin's Food Company which produced food supplements for children and invalids. Now these dolls are selling for a few dollars to over 20 on eBay. I don't have one. Do not feel the need to buy it. I have the ad. That will suffice for now.

Mellin's Food paper doll ad_July1914_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.

I will now sit back and watch how many hits this receives. It's always fascinating to see how paper doll people come running out of the hills at the mere whiff of something to do with dolls. The only thing that has gotten more hits than paper dolls was an ad for a Kodak Instamatic Camera. So get ready, get set...GO!


CHARLES A. KING, illustrator at University High School, 1919

More from the 1919 University High School yearbook The Correlator, Chicago, Illinois.

This yearbook is really wonderful. There are so many aspects to it that make it enjoyable to just sit and page through. The following illustrations were all done by a junior at the school named Charles A. King. I can't find a photo of him, though he's probably in the ensemble class picture. And I can't find anything online about him, wondering if perchance he went on to a career in art.

This is the title page, obviously. The rest are self-explanatory.

The Correlator_title pg._tatteredandlost

As you can see most of the art took inspiration from World War I. Each a new section opener.

The Correlator_freshman_tatteredandlost

The Correlator_sophomore_tatteredandlost

The Correlator_junior_tatteredandlost

The Correlator_senior_tatteredandlost

The Correlator_public speaking_tatteredandlost
Click on any of the images to see them larger.

The book has several other illustrators, but none really as consistent as King. His work stands out as the best.

I guess this is where I will end with this book for now and go on to some other ephemera items and perhaps go back to this yearbook at another time.



There are only a couple ads in the back of The Correlator that are focusing on women. This is one of them.

Evelyn Buys a Corset_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.

Ohhhhhhh, I'm so glad I didn't have to wear one of these or even deal with the nonsensical reasoning why they were beneficial beyond fashion. I still remember a friend who would never get on a horse because riding was "bad for feminine organs." I think she got tired of my stare. Of course her father also said he wouldn't pay a penny to help her go to college because "...girls don't go to college. I'll pay for your brother." This was in the late 60s. Fortunately my parents put no boundaries on my life.

Click on image to see it larger.

And how titillating was this ad in the yearbook? I mean, I remember the slut (special lady uniquely talented) at my school who posed for the motorcycle shot got even more popular with the boys and probably made even more trips to Tijuana (you don't want to know), but what primal urges did this corset lady bring out? What sort of comments were written on her page by boys bursting with hormones? One can only imagine. I'd love to know how many copies of this yearbook still exist.

I believe Gossard is still in business. And with the revival of the girdle, sort of, they might be back to making implements of torture. I simply don't know. Never go near the things.



Ohhhhhhhhhhh oh boy, he was a young American. Young American. Young American. He was a young American....but more of this later.

The Correlator continues to be a source of the interesting and odd. Today I'm focusing on ad's for young gentlemans clothing. I mean, you've already seen the cross-dressing ad, but actually there are more clothing ads for young men. None as eye popping as Leopold's. Still, clothing for young men appears to be the most advertised item in this high school yearbook of 1919. Tomorrow I will run the one and only clothing ad for women. It will make you squirm or perhaps cringe.

Now before we get started, can you imagine which product comes in number two for the most ads in the yearbook? Think about it. What's the first thing that trips off your tongue? I've already told you there's only one ad for women's clothing. Keep thinking about it. I'll give you the answer somewhere within the post.

You're going to have to click on the images in order to read the content. There's just so many of them I didn't want to do close-ups too. They're all worth a read.

I will start slow and dull. However..."Take thou heed of this and visit our shop while the assortment is large. The smartest clothes are always made to order." Think of this one as a heads-up from all future employers. Basically, straighten up and fly right.

Wilkie & Sellery_tatteredandlost

And now we start to show a bit of sophistication with an illustration reminding me of J. C. Leyendecker's style. You know, the popular Arrow shirt man.

Henry C. Lytton and Sons_tatteredandlost

And of course what does every young man need under those creased trousers? Socks of course.

Paramount Knitting_tatteredandlost

And how do we finish off a pair of socks? Ham. Yes, that's the hidden answer. Ham. Ham is what's sold the second most in this yearbook. But let's get back to what's at the end of the gams. Shoes. Florsheim Shoes. I believe they're still in business.


And now we start to get to the Young American. The snappy dresser. Masculine, but if you look at the ads almost a bit androgynous. Yes, they're young men, but young men in a sort of David Bowie mid 1970s way, which is why...

Young American_tatteredandlost

Campus Togs_tatteredandlost

I simply need to end with this video. And yes, the answer to the quiz was above. If you didn't find it it means you just were scanning the page for the pictures and never read my boring copy.


Youth are apparently EASILY INFLUENCED

I will say nothing more than that this page is five pages behind the odd ad of the cross dressing boy. It would seem youth are easily influenced. At least those on the yearbook staff.

Oh, and I'm hoping to not find anymore murderers in the book. I checked "Borden" but no Lizzie present.


LEOPOLD AND LOEB, and how did I get here?

I've been thinking all day about this post. Do I really want to write it? Do I in any way want to be associated with such a heinous person? I've already discovered that if a Google search of "Richard Albert Loeb" is done my blog comes up on page 3. Maybe it's too late. Cat is already out of the bag. Ephemera is once again leading me on a journey.

So let me begin.

I bought a 1919 University High School of Chicago, Illinois yearbook several years ago on eBay. I bought it because of the ad shown in
yesterday's post. The ad made me laugh. The ad confused me. What was the reaction of the community when the yearbook came out and there, in a full page ad, was a boy in a dress being helped by another boy? What was the motivation of the buyer of the ad? I've never found anything about the ad. It's still a mystery. Ultimately this mystery is what led to Richard Albert Loeb, of Leopold and Loeb fame.

Typing in "Leopold + Chicago" in Google, hoping to find something about the manufacturer of the clothes in the ad, I soon discovered that when you type those words into a search the famous murderers Leopold and Loeb show up.

I remembered their names and vaguely remembered what they'd done. I started reading. As I read the wheels started turning. My brain multi-tasks all the time, usually annoying the heck out of people when I suddenly blurt out something that has nothing to do with what is going on. Brain juggling. Constantly sifting information.
Something I read made me stop and think, "I wonder if these boys went to this yearbook high school? Or maybe their family members?" I picked up the book and started flipping through the pages.

First I looked up the name "Leopold". Though there were a few Leopolds in the school they were in the freshman and sophomore classes and neither had the first name Nathan. But as I looked at the page of seniors, beginning with "L", I suddenly noticed at the bottom of the page the other name I was searching for, Loeb. And then as I looked at the face of the smiling boy, much younger than the other faces on the page, I read the name, Richard Albert Loeb. I was stunned. This book has been on my shelf for years and I had perused it many many times. I had often wondered about the faces staring back at me, wondering what became of them, if any of them in some way made a mark on society in ways the rest of us don't. Were any of them famous for something? Over the years I've looked at a lot of yearbooks in antique stores thinking maybe someone would pop out that I recognize. Suddenly I was staring at someone who was famous for all the wrong reasons.

Now, if you're still reading this and thinking, "Uhhhh..so what?" it means you are probably new to my blog and don't realize that one of the things that fascinates me about ephemera is that I like to connect the dots. I like to find out how the piece of paper I'm holding relates to history. Put another dimension to the piece by doing some "quick" research.

There's a lot to be found online about Nathan Freudenthal Leopold, Jr. and Richard Albert Loeb. I'll give a synopsis below with some links where you can read more because let's be frank, most people today have no idea who these guys were and without some information the yearbook picture means nothing.

The Friendship
Leopold and Loeb met in the spring of 1920, one year after Loeb's graduation from University High School. Loeb graduated at age 13. Leopold was 6 months older than Loeb. They had grown up in the wealthy Kenwood section of Chicago's South Side, living near to each other, but not knowing each other. While Loeb was attending University High, a prep school for the University of Chicago, Leopold was attending another prep school, Harvard School.

Richard Albert Loeb
From what I've read Loeb's personality was the stronger of the two. He had what has been described on many sites as a real Jekyl and Hyde personality.
Born Richard Albert Loeb on June 11, 1905, in Chicago, Illinois. Richard Loeb was born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth to a wealthy Jewish lawyer who went on to become a senior executive with the department store company, Sears and Roebuck. Loeb was extremely intelligent and skipped several grades at school, thanks mostly to a rather strict disciplinarian nanny.

Whether as a result of rebellion at the repressive educational regime, or some deep-seated psychological flaw, Loeb showed distinct Jekyll/Hyde characteristics from an early age. He was outwardly an affable, popular child, but also showed a more sinister side to his personality. He became an accomplished thief early on and, while recognizing that lying was wrong, readily resorted to elaborate fabrications when caught out. He developed an elaborate fantasy life as a master criminal, and his interests evolved from minor family theft to shoplifting, vandalism and arson.

Loeb was admitted to the University of Chicago at age fourteen as a result of skipping numerous grades. It was there that the friendship with Nathan Leopold began to develop. They were both considerably younger than their University contemporaries, but while Leopold was a genuine prodigy, Loeb was more a product of his nanny’s ruthless tutelage, and his studies floundered when she was no longer there to assist him. (SOURCE: Biography.com)
I also discovered this piece of information about his parents:
Albert LOEB m. Anna. Albert began his career as a lawyer and became the Vice President of Sears and Roebuck. Albert and Anna Loeb had an impressive mansion in the Kenwood section on the South Side of Chicago, two blocks away from the Leopold home, as well as a summer estate in Charlevoix, Michigan. The LOEB School and LOEB Road in Charlevoix, Michigan are named after Albert LOEB. The Loeb family of Chicago built a "castle and estate" down the road in 1900-1920, and then built this stone school as a gift for the rural children of the area. (SOURCE: loebtree.com)
Now the most interesting bio I read about Loeb is at leopoldandloeb.com. You can also read Leopold's bio there, but I'm going to mainly focus on Loeb since this whole post came about because of his picture in the yearbook. Below is the bio at the site. I encourage you to go to the site by Marianne Rackliffe and read everything she's written. Fascinating!
He was a popular boy, depending on who you asked. The girls loved him, alright. Or did they? He had these ways about him. Sure, he was good looking, sure he was rich, but sometimes he acted, well, "cuckoo". Once, he tried on all the hats at a party. Another time, he crashed his car into a carriage, almost killing a woman and suffering a concussion in the process. He drove recklessly. He drank recklessly. He lied without flinching to his parents' face. Still, when a story broke in May of 1924, that Dickie Loeb was being held in connection with the Franks boy's murder, nobody believed it, not a soul.

Richard Albert Loeb was born June 11, 1905. He was the third of four sons. His father, Albert, began his career as a lawyer and became the Vice President of Sears and Roebuck. Albert and Anna Loeb had an impressive mansion in the Kenwood section on the South Side of Chicago, two blocks away from the Leopold home, as well as a summer estate in Charlevoix, Michigan.

When Richard was four and a half, his family, like Leopold's, employed a governess. Richard's governess was a Canadian girl named Emily Struthers. Miss Struthers was a rather strict disciplinarian and also tutored Richard extensively, which led to his skipping of several grades of school.

Although they lived less than two blocks apart, Richard and Nathan attended different schools. Richard attended the Lab school and later U High; the prep school affiliated with the University of Chicago. Richard graduated from U High when he was thirteen. He was admitted to the University of Chicago in the Fall. He was excited and pleased. He felt special.

Miss Struthers had discouraged Richard from associating with boys his own age when he was younger. Because he craved excitement, he read detective stories. He was not allowed to read them so he read them secretly. He also developed the habit of lying to avoid punishment. This habit extended to his parents as well to avoid unpleasant situations. This lying evolved from a method of avoiding negative situations, to a positive method of fabrication. Instead of simply saying he was not doing something his elders did not want him to do, he would also create a positive lie about something he was doing. Thus, if his parents said "do not play cards when you go into town", he would play cards, then lie and say he hadn't, but would also create a lie about doing a positive activity they would approve of. Not only was he not playing cards, he was studying in the library.

Richard said that he felt as a child that his family "more or less neglected him". He also stated that he felt they didn't mean to, and he was sure they had his best interests at heart. Yet, the feeling remained. At about the age of nine , the same time that his brother Tommy was born, he began to steal from his older brothers, from neighbors and from shops, acting out a secret adventure akin to those in his detective stories. He played "shadow" on the street and trailed people.

When he was still very young, partly perhaps due to his strict home life and the feeling that he was unduly restricted and held back, a situation he even then thought rather odd, Richard began to develop a phantasy life revolving around himself being in jail. He would picture himself in jail, being abused, locked up, laughed at and stared at. It allowed an outlet for the feelings of low self esteem and self pity that were raging inside him, feeling as he did, that he was unloved and not allowed pleasures and excitement that other boys were.

This phantisizing began to take a more important role in his life as he grew older, his imagination becoming an outlet for the excitement he craved, but was not allowed.

The phantasies grew in importance in his life, and the flip side of his jail phantasy began to emerge; this was the Master Criminal phantasy. In the Master Criminal phantasy, Richard imagined himself the leader of a gang, or at least of one other accomplice. Dr Glueck testified during the trial that in his opinion, all Richard Loeb's phantasies showed a desire for complete power and completeness. Later interpretations of the case would focus on the "complete power" of Glueck's statement with a Nietzschian zeal, while ignoring the possibly more significant "completeness." Richard Loeb was after more than power and control over others; he desired to create a complete person, capable of living out a complete life- something he found himself incapable of doing on his own. Thus he unconsciously sought out someone who could help him achieve that completeness, a complement to himself who would be strong where he was weak, an alter ego.

Dr Bernard Glueck brought up another one of Loeb's phantasies, often overlooked by historians and even by the other defense doctors, as Glueck noted that he put on par in importance with the other phantasies; this was the "Perfect Collegian" phantasy.

in the developing and in the carrying out of his activities which is of interest and which has not been brought out by the other examiners that one phantasy that ran through a considerable period of time was what he calls the perfect collegian phantasy.

In this phantasy, Loeb pictured himself a sophomore in college, the top of the class and the most popular, a great athlete, attractive and healthy. Once again Dr Glueck says this reinforces the notion that Richard was after Completeness.

In my estimation of the situation, what this boy was after in all this phantasying was to get a sense of complete power, a sense of completeness; and the physical exhilaration that went with all this carrying on to some extent satisfied this desire for power and completeness.

Although at first he was pleased with entering college so young, as it reinforced his ego and sense of self importance, once in school, at age fourteen, now freed from the control of his governess, without anyone at home to confide in, he found himself utterly incapable of relating on an equal footing to the boys who were 4, 5 and 6 years older than him.

And there were other problems. He was a smart boy. But there was enormous pressure upon him to live up to an ideal. He was expected to be brilliant. In reality, he didn't find many of his classes interesting. In high school he cribbed off others when he could. He did not put a lot of effort into his studies. It was a doable thing with a governess who tutored him straight through school.

But college was a completely different world, even if it was only down the street.

When Richard was nine, his brother Thomas was born. This created some hostility in the household regarding Richard's mother and the governess. Miss Struthers attempted to win the Richard's affection away from his mother and, for a while, was successful. Eventually Miss Struthers was dismissed. There were no more Governesses. Mrs Loeb took a more active role in her youngest son's upbrining.

As was the case with Leopold, the governess had, at least temporarily, overshadowed the affection for the mother.

Struthers was not like Leopold's governess in the field of sex, however. While Mathilda Wantz took liberties with Nathan, Struthers avoided all discussion of sex. Richard was eleven when he learned the difference between boys and girls- from the family chauffeur.

Richard did have one friend with whom he took part in several petty delinquencies; a boy named Jack Mengal that he met at the age of five. Together they stole a flower vase from a neighborhood house. They also played strip poker and once wrestled naked on a bed. Mengal and Richard drifted apart at about the age of fourteen. Mengal wound up in Pontiac Reformatory.

Miss Struthers left during Richard's first year at the University, after having a falling out with the family. The woman who had displaced Richard's mother had felt increasingly hostile at having to care for Richard's brother Tommy. She made accusations and was dismissed from the Loeb household.

At about this time, Richard and Nathan became friends. In Nathan, Richard found the perfect partner to his criminalistic fantasies. One can also see how Leopold's own personality, characteristics, and attributes merged with Loeb- and in a sense, gave him that sense of completeness he'd been craving. Loeb described the relationship of himself and Leopold as "the complete realization" of all his dreams and phantasies.

At first their relationship was cold. Leopold stated that at first he detested Loeb and believed the feeling was mutual. Yet they apparently hung around in the same group of seven or eight boys. Eventually their relationship warmed. Perhaps it was due to the closeness in their ages verses the discrepancy between their other friends, their attending the same college, living in the same neighborhood, both being Jewish. They were so different. Yet they had everything in common.

In the Fall of 1920 Leopold entered the University of Chicago in October as a Freshman. Loeb was now a Sophomore. By February, they were what Leopold described as "firm friends". They had also begun engaging in delinquencies.

The relationship had become physical. (SOURCE: leopoldandloeb.com)

Nathan Freudenthal Leopold
And some brief bio information about Leopold:

Nathan Freudenthal Leopold Jr. was born on 19th November 1904 in Chicago, Illinois, into a wealthy family of immigrant German Jews, who had made a freight & transport-related fortune since their arrival in the United States. Reportedly a child prodigy, with an IQ of 210, Leopold spoke his first words aged just 4 months old, and amazed a succession of nannies and governesses with his intellectual precocity.

Leopold’s intelligence set him apart from his contemporaries, and the boy had difficulty making friends when he started school, a trait that continued throughout his education, made more difficult by his own superior attitude, in relation to both his family’s wealth and his own intelligence. When the family moved to the exclusive Chicago neighbourhood of Kenwood, he was transferred to the private Harvard School, and his educational development was even more rapid. It was at this time that he met Richard Loeb, although it wasn’t until he entered the University of Chicago, as a freshman in September 1920, before his sixteenth birthday, that they became what he referred to as ‘firm friends’. (SOURCE: Crime & Investigation Network)
To read about how the friendship developed and the twists and turns it took read more at leopoldandloeb.com. You'll get deep into who these guys were.

The Crime
At the time it was called the "Crime of the Century" which obviously it wasn't because there were plenty more crimes during the 20th-century with the same media label.

Leopold and Loeb decided to commit the "perfect crime." Ummmm...not so much. The two:
...became increasingly obsessed with the development and commission of the perfect crime.

On May 21, 1924, Loeb and Leopold put their plan into action, collecting a rental car, obscuring its number plates and then driving to their old alma mater, the Harvard School, in search of a convenient victim. They settled on 14-year old Bobby Franks, a neighbor of the Loebs. Lured into the car, Franks was hit over the head with a chisel by Loeb and then gagged before being hidden under some blankets on the back seat of the car. After depositing Franks’ body in a culvert at nearby Wolf Lake, they delivered the ransom note to the boy’s father, Jacob Franks. (Source: Biography.com)

Bobby Franks, the victim
And from the site trutv.com where you will also find a photo of Bobby Franks, his parents, and their mansion:
On Wednesday, May 21, 1924, fourteen-year-old Bobby Franks walked home from school by himself. A car stopped and a familiar face appeared in its open window. Bobby got in the car raced away.

Around dinner time, Bobby had not come home nor had he contacted his parents, Jacob and Flora Franks. His brother Jack and his sister Josephine had no idea where he was. Perhaps he was playing tennis at the Loebs, Jack suggested. But when his father looked over at the Loeb's tennis courts, Bobby was nowhere to be seen.

While Flora called Bobby's classmates, Jacob contacted the headmaster of the school to find out if Bobby could have gotten himself locked in the school building. He called Samuel Ettelson, a prominent lawyer and friend, to determine what to do. Ettelson and Jacob searched the entire school building, but found no sign of Bobby.

While they were gone, Flora got a phone call. A man calling himself Johnson told her, "Your son has been kidnapped. He is all right. There will be further news in the morning." Flora fainted and remained unconscious until her husband and Ettelson came home.

At two in the morning, Jacob and Ettelson went to the police, but since none of the police officials that Ettelson knew were on duty at that hour, they decided to come back later that morning.

The Franks were residents of Kenwood, a wealthy neighborhood in Chicago. They lived quietly among the Jewish elite of Kenwood, but had not been accepted socially for several reasons. They had renounced their Jewish faith to become Christian Scientists. Jacob had made much of his money running a pawnshop, which didn't recommend them socially to the powerful Jewish executives, bankers and attorneys in the neighborhood.

The next morning, the mailman arrived with a special delivery letter:

"Dear Sir:
As you no doubt know by this time, your son has been kidnapped. Allow us to assure you that he is at present well and safe. You need fear no physical harm for him, provided you live up carefully to the following instructions and to such others as you will receive by future communications. Should you, however, disobey any of our instructions, even slightly, his death will be the penalty.

1. For obvious reasons make absolutely no attempt to communicate with either police authorities or any private agency. Should you already have communicated with the police, allow them to continue their investigations, but do not mention this letter.

2. Secure before noon today $10,000. This money must be composed entirely of old bills of the following denominations: $2000 in $20 bills, $8000 in $50 bills. The money must be old. Any attempt to include new or marked bills will render the entire venture futile.

3. The money should be placed in a large cigar box, or if this is impossible, in a heavy cardboard box, securely closed and wrapped in white paper. The wrapping paper should be sealed at all openings with sealing wax.

4. Have the money with you, prepared as directed above, and remain at home after one o'clock. See that the telephone is not in use."
It was signed George Johnson and guaranteed that if the money were delivered according to his instructions that Bobby would be returned unharmed.

While Jacob went to get the money, Ettelson called his friend who was chief of detectives for the Chicago Police Department.

An enterprising newspaperman had been tipped off that there was a kidnapping involving the Franks' boy. He had also heard that a boy had been found dead in a culvert near Wolf Lake, a probable drowning victim. He relayed the description of the dead boy to Mr. Franks, who did not think it matched his son. Franks' brother-in-law went check it out.

When the telephone rang, "George Johnson" told Ettelson, "I am sending a Yellow Cab for you. Get in and go to the drugstore at 1465 East Sixty-third Street." Ettelson handed the phone to Jacob and the message was repeated. In the trauma of the events, both men immediately forgot the address of the drugstore.

The phone rang again. This time it was Jacob's brother-in-law. The boy that had been found dead in the culvert was Bobby Franks.
Here you can see the actual ransom note.

Well, it seems things began to fall apart very quickly after the crime. Their undoing? Leopold dropped his glasses at the murder scene.
Eight days after the murder, police discovered that the hinges on the pair of eyeglasses were very unique and had only been sold on three pairs of glasses in the Chicago area. One of those three pairs of glasses belonged to Nathan Leopold. (SOURCE: trutv.com)
When you read these other sites you're going to be astounded by everything that went on. The arrogance of the two of them. For example:
On Friday, May 23, Richard Loeb, a handsome nineteen-year-old University of Chicago student and neighbor of the Franks family, was at his Zeta Beta Tau fraternity house with Howard Mayer who was the campus liaison to the Evening American. Loeb suggested that they try to locate the drugstore that the kidnapper had instructed Jacob Franks to go to with the ransom money. Just as the two of them were about to check the various drugstores, two Daily News reporters, one of whom was a ZBT member, came into the fraternity house and decided to go with them.

Eventually, they found the Van de Bogert & Ross drugstore and confirmed that there had been two calls the previous day for Mr. Franks. "This is the place!" Loeb shrieked enthusiastically to the others. "This is what comes from reading detective stories."

Mulroy, one of the reporters, asked Loeb if he knew the murdered boy. Loeb told him he had, then he smiled and said, "If I were going to murder anybody, I would murder just such a cocky little son of a bitch as Bobby Franks." (Source: trutv.com)

The Trial
The two confessed to the crime. Then what?
The story of Leopold and Loeb dominated the newspapers. The Tribune explained why: "In view of the fact that the solving of the Franks kidnapping and death brings to notice a crime that is unique in Chicago's annals, and perhaps unprecedented in American criminal history, the Tribune this morning gives to the report of the case many columns of space for news, comment, and pictures.

"The diabolical spirit evinced in the planned kidnapping and murder; the wealth and prominence of the families whose sons are involved; the high mental attainments of the youths, the suggestions of perversion; the strange quirks indicated in the confession that the child was slain for a ransom, for experience, for the satisfaction of a desire for "deep plotting," combined to set the case in a class by itself."

The public was aghast at the crime and the newspapers demanded swift retribution. "It should not be allowed to hang on, poisoning our thoughts and feelings. Every consideration of public interest demands that it be carried through to its end at once," wrote the Herald and Examiner. (SOURCE: trutv.com)
With a city in an uproar, who do you think the families hired as their attorney?

..Jacob Loeb, Richard's uncle, and Benjamin Bachrach, a successful attorney, tried to find out where the boys were being held, but they were not told. The two boys were in desperate need of an attorney.

Later that evening, Jacob Loeb went to the apartment of the one of the country's most brilliant lawyers. Loeb got the sixty-seven-year-old Clarence Darrow and his wife out of bed. Darrow had made a name for himself championing the underdog and fighting capital punishment.

"Get them a life sentence instead of death," Loeb begged for his nephew and Leopold. "That's all we ask. We'll pay anything, only for God's sake, don't let them hang."

Darrow took the case, not for the fee, but by defending these two boys, he had a unique opportunity to combat the death penalty. This case was getting so much publicity around the country and the world that it was a rare chance for him to be widely heard on his capital punishment soapbox. (SOURCE: trutv.com)
To read about Darrow's stunning defense read an account written by Professor Douglas O. Linder at law.umkc.edu.
Few trial transcripts are as likely to bring tears to the eyes as that of the 1924 murder trial of Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold. Decades after Clarence Darrow delivered his twelve-hour long plea to save his young clients' lives, his moving summation stands as the most eloquent attack on the death penalty ever delivered in an American courtroom. Mixing poetry and prose, science and emotion, a world-weary cynicism and a dedication to his cause, hatred of bloodlust and love of man, Darrow takes his audience on an oratorical ride that would be unimaginable in a criminal trial today....

The trial (technically a hearing, rather than a trial, because of the entry of guilty pleas) of Leopold and Loeb lasted just over one month. The state presented over a hundred witnesses proving-- needlessly, in the opinion of many-- every element of the crime. The defense presented extensive psychiatric evidence describing the defendants' emotional immaturity, obsessions with crime and Nietzschean philosophy, alcohol abuse, glandular abnormalities, and sexual longings and insecurities. Lay witnesses, classmates and associates of Loeb, were offered to prove his belligerence, inappropriate laughter, lack of judgment, and childishness. Other lay witness testified as to Leopold's egocentricity and argumentative nature. The state offered in rebuttal psychiatrists who saw normal emotional responses in the boys and no physical basis for a finding of mental abnormality.

On August 22, 1924, Clarence Darrow began his summation for the defense in a "courtroom jammed to suffocation, with hundreds of men and women rioting in the corridors outside." As a newspaper reporter observed, the setting underscored Darrow's argument "that the court was the only thing standing between the boys and a bloodthirsty mob." For over twelve hours Darrow reminded Judge Caverly of the defendants' youth, genetic inheritance, surging sexual impulses, and the many external influences that had led them to the commission of their crime....

Two weeks later Caverly announced his decision. He called the murder "a crime of singular atrocity." Caverly said that his "judgment cannot be affected" by the causes of crime and that it was "beyond the province of this court" to "predicate ultimate responsibility for human acts." Nonetheless, Caverly said that "the consideration of the age of the defendants" and the possible benefits to criminology that might come from future study of them persuaded him that life in prison, not death, was the better punishment. He said that he was doing them no favor: "To the offenders, particularly of the type they are, the prolonged years of confinement may well be the severest form of retribution and expiation." (SOURCE: Professor Douglas O. Linder)

The Sentence
Leopold and Loeb were sentenced on September 10, 1924 and sent to Joliet penitentiary to serve out life sentences plus 99 years. Loeb was killed by another prisoner on January 28, 1936. You can read an account of that day here.

Leopold was granted parole in March of 1958.
Finally in March of 1958, after thirty-three years in prison, Leopold was released on parole. He went to live in Puerto Rico to avoid harassment by the press. There he published The Birds of Puerto Rico, obtained a masters degree at the University of Puerto Rico and worked at various positions.

In 1961, Leopold married Trudi Feldman Garcia de Queveda, a former social worker from Baltimore and widow of a Puerto Rican physician. Ten years later, in 1971, he died of a heart attack at the age of sixty-six with his wife by his side. (SOURCE: trutv.com)

And now, the yearbook
I know, all of this just to look at a lousy senior high school photo. Well, I thought it was interesting and it adds a dimension to this photo that I never knew. He looks like an ordinary boy. Nothing special about him.

Here is the page showing Loeb at the bottom.

Loeb_graduation picture_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.
And here it is close-up.

Click on image to see it larger.
As to the copy that's shown next to the photo, well, that's just one of the odd things in this book. It seems that all the copy accompaning photos was written by the yearbook staff. What's so odd about Loeb's is that it seems to indicate a multiple personality: Richard, Dick, and "Dique". Who knows who wrote this, but they seem to have had a clue that all was not right with little "Dique".

Loeb also seems to appear in both the sophomore section, as the class treasurer, and in the senior section (the graduation photo). This photo of the sophomore class officers shows a boy at the bottom who could be Loeb. The name of the treasurer is Richard Loeb. And yet, on the actual page listing all sophomores no Loeb is listed. Though he graduated with the senior class he was only a sophomore, only 13, only his second year in high school. I'll leave it up to you. Was Loeb class treasurer? Is this another photograph of him? It's just so strange to see him as anything other than a murderer.

Click on image to see it larger.
One final photo. There is a class photo on page 28 showing the sophomore class. I have no idea if Loeb is in the photo. I'll post it for others to determine. It's a mystery to me.

Click on image to see it larger.

University High sophomore class 1919_tatteredandlost
Click on image to see it larger.
There are other Loeb's mentioned in the book, but I don't know if they're related. There is a Robert Loeb listed in the junior class who was also on the yearbook staff. Brother? I don't know because I have not found out the names of any of his siblings other than a reference to an Allan. If Robert was his older brother, perhaps it is he who wrote the bio information next to the photo. There is also an Alan Loeb listed on a page of former students who were serving in the military. He graduated in 1914, but his name is spelled differently than where I saw it online.

To Read More
Go to the following sites to read more, much more:

biography.com here and here

And to read Loeb"s confession

Have I added anything new to the knowledge about Richard Albert Loeb? Nah. Just some ephemera. Still someone might find this useful. It takes him one step back from before he was famous. He was just a boy in a yearbook. A boy who would go down in history for murder.

Oh, and next time I post...it's going to be something simple. Just an image. I'm done talkin'.

New book available on Amazon.
Tattered and Lost: Forgotten Dolls

This one is for those who love dolls!

Snapshots from the last 100+ years of children and adults with dolls. Okay, there are a couple of dogs too.

Perfect stocking stuffer!