Category: 1940s
Sepia Smokers
Smiles, Sledding, And That One Sullen Guy With Great Cheekbones
Being With You, Being With You
Secrets Of A Parson, Part III
And the last secret is: Just do it.
Even after “a long and busy Monday,” just do it. Because Emory Harner won’t turn 94 again. In fact, Harner passed away the year after this article was published, in 1942. And everyone needs to feel special.

Secrets Of A Parson, Part II
Never catch a sister unawares: the first ministerial lesson to be learned. Perhaps most brothers were at office jobs while Dr. Briggs made his daily round of pastoral visits to (mostly female) parishioners. To prevent a surprise visit, he would park his sweet 1930s ride in front of each home and faux tinker with the car to give housekeepers time to tidy up. That’s a thoughtful, if not exhausted, parson. It’s the little things that make a difference.
And on a purely aesthetic note, isn’t this a gem of a literal window inside the life of a person in 1941? So warm and serene in the home, so placid and white with snow outside. How comforting it must have been to know someone thought enough of you to drive to see you each day. Even a kind word from a milk man or mailman must have made the day of someone confined to his home. I have read that as you age, you begin to feel invisible, and just a gesture of conversation could serve to validate your existence. I raise my coffee mug to each of you today, validating your worth and purpose in existence!
Secrets Of A Parson, Part I
Christmas 1947
After A Long Day Of Shaving Heads…
Here’s another “I Don’t Get It” ad from 1941, suggesting a pint of the “dark ruby ale” as a remedy for fatigue. Yes, technically, Guinness is not black or even brown, but red. The man buzz-cutting these recruits looks tired now. Is now a good time for Guinness? Should he pause in the middle of shaving heads? And speaking of head…
Bartenders are not being fussy when they insist on the double-pour. Unlike other taps, Guinness is dispensed through a five-hole disk restrictor plate. It supplies an uncommon amount of nitrogen, making the head extra-effervescent. As such, two shifts are needed: one to start the magic, and a second to finish the job. The perfect pint is said to take 119.5 seconds to pour. But who’s counting? (www.foodrepublic.com)
And did you know that Africa accounts for about 40% of Guinness’ total worldwide sales? I don’t get that statistic either.
The full ad ends with the tag: Guinness Is Good For You. Many years ago, pregnant Irish women were told to drink a glass of Guinness every day to fortify themselves and their baby. More sound advice. Sounds like it’s time for a pint!












