It’s a mystery, the contents of this box. Here’s what I know, so far.
Several years ago, I was cleaning out my aunt’s house. I found a box inside of a larger box, containing stamps from all over: Germany, Cuba, and the United States.
This box was nestled among clippings, hundreds of them, of letterhead(s) from mid-century American hotels, coast to coast: The Taft, the Biltmore, the Roosevelt. Beyond belief, though, were the train lines: the Los Angeles, and the Sunset Limited. The mind reels: there was a time when you could board an American train and write a letter on its personalized stationery.
The elegance of this speaks to an era when time spread out. I just started reading the letters of MFK Fisher and what is startling is simply the use of language for communication. This is no text speak time; this is when thoughts were developed, and full words were used. One pictures the writer, staring out the train window; locales pass by as thoughts come together.
To get back to Mrs. H.R. Burdick. It seems she collected both the stamps and the stationery, but not the letters. Luckily, there are many envelopes with multitudes of beautiful handwriting. Where does my aunt come in? Apparently, one of her many hobbies was stamp collecting, and she purchased these boxes from one David C. Burdick, of Sea Cliff, New York, the town in which she lived. One assumes David was the son of Mrs. H.R. Burdick.
There is no question that this treasure trove wants to become a book, or a museum exhibit. Or both. Stay tuned.
