Only FOUR-AND-A-HALF DAYS

Leave San Francisco aboard ship and in 4-1/2 days you'd be coming around the bend of Diamond Head towards the harbor in Honolulu. I've said before it was a wonderful way to travel and an incredible place for two little girls to play. Running up and down the passageways, by the gift shop, across the wooden decks, out to the fantail to eat lunch. Glorious time. 

(Source: Paradise of the Pacific 1960, No. 11, Vol. 71)  Click on image to see it larger.

Once you arrived on the island that was not your last encounter with the ships. As military families you always had friends coming and going so you often went back down to the Aloha Tower to see ships arrive or set sail. This meant you got to be part of the big party that took place on the docks. A small Hawaiian band would play, there were dancers, and best of all there were streamers. Those onboard would stand at the railing looking down on us and fling long streamers from the ship to the dock. Thousands of different colored tendrils were soon stretching across the expanse. My friend and I loved grabbing as many streamers as we could to make into a huge pile of paper to hide in. There was also always a man with a wide broom sweeping the paper into large piles making our "job" a lot easier. It was all giggles, colors, and noise. Grand times.

Here is someone's home movie of the Lurline as it arrives in Honolulu.

And this, though it has really dreadful music, also shows the fun of sailing on a Matson Liner. Why they chose this music, well who knows what they were thinking, It's an old travel film made back on the Mainland far away from the land of strumming ukuleles. Personally I don't remember any "race horses" when we were onboard, but I might be wrong. I think by the late 50s they'd done away with that. This was just a film to be shown to potential travelers. We weren't given a choice so we never saw any travel films. We were told "You're going to Hawaii." Well actually my father was given a choice. It was Oahu or Kodiak, Alaska. My mother said "NO!" to Alaska. Good thing.

Old HAWAIIAN RECORD LABELS

Yes, I still have all of my Hawaiian 45 records, all in one of those little boxes with the handle on top. I haven't listened to these in years. I'm going to have to find one of those little plastic thingies for the center and take a listen again.

So for your viewing pleasure I give you the 49th State Record labels from the early 60s. But first here's a little history of the company:

The Legacy of the 49th State Hawaii Record label

The time was the mid forties, the place was Honolulu, and the person was George Ching. He was a proprieter of a record store in Hawaii's main city and he had an idea. Because of the many requests he had gotten (largely from servicemen returning home to the mainland) for recordings of Hawaiian music as keepsakes and momentos, he knew that there was not a serious outlet for local talent. Seizing this opportunity, Ching decided to start his own modest recording service to provide such an outlet, and making sure that he dealt in the best of the local talent available he enlisted the help of perhaps the single most important musician of his time, John K. (Kameaaloha) Almeida. John K. would serve as musical director, arranger, and of course, as an important performer for the fledgling enterprise. Searching for a name for the new company, Ching came upon one that looked to the future of the islands. With the end of World War II, there had been much talk of Hawaii becoming part of the United States, ending its days as a U.S. territory. And so, owing to the impending status of Hawaii, the new record label proudly named itself "49th State Hawaii Records". (Of course we know that the change in status took much longer than expected, and Alaska beat Hawaii to the 49th designation - but the "49th State" label remained and has gained in historical significance from that time)

The recording company had modest beginnings, as to be expected, but as it grew and the technology expanded and advanced, so did Hawaii's hometown record label. They amassed quite a catalog throughout the years, featuring many musicians in their formative stages, who went on to great success (Gabby Pahinui and Genoa Keawe to name a couple of obvious examples). From the mid forties into the fifties and beyond, the breadth and scope of the little label that could is remarkable. Moving from the original 78 rpm shellacs to the 45 and LP formats, the label kept a stream of important musical performances available to the public. As late as 1980, 49th State had a numerous catalog of re-released material on 45 rpm records (cleverly beginning with #49 and numbering more than 300 releases issued) and a wealth of music was available on LPs. Into the new milennium, we find the mid and late 40s sounds still available as a new generation of listeners seek out these snippets of Hawaii's musical legacy. Cord International has preserved a number of these titles in all their re-mastered glory on a number of CDs. And so, more than a half century later, the music that was the nucleus of an idea of George Ching for his little "49th State Hawaii" record label resonates once again. Mahalo, George, and John K., and all the performers that we enjoy once again! (SOURCE: Jaymar41)

And here are a few other labels, including an Alfred Apaka from the Henry J. Kaiser Hawaiian Village label. For those people who have memories of old tv shows from the 50s and 60s, the show Hawaiian Eye was set at the Hawaiian Village hotel which eventually became the Hilton Hawaiian.

The song above was actually written by a family friend and my hula teacher, Maddy Lam. Maddy was inducted into the Hawaiian Music Hall of Fame in 2000. You can read more about Madeline Kaululehuaohaili Lam here. The last time I saw Maddy she was playing piano at the Halekulani. She was a beautiful woman and a kind soul.

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Sit back, imagine the warm breezes blowing through the palm trees as you sit at the Halekulani watching the sunset. Everything else just drifts away. The beautiful voice of Alfred Apaka.

UPDATE: A reader sent me the following information about some records he recently found. If anyone has any information, or is interested in purchasing them, contact him at the email address given below.

Here’s a list of the specific 78 rpm records:

“Papalina Lahilahi,” backed with “Alekoki,” John K. Almeida, record number: 49th State Hawaii Record Co. 54

“Hanohano Hanalei,” backed with “Nani Kaala,” John K. Almeida, 49th State Hawaii Record Co. 68

“Kekumu-Okalani,” John K. Ameida, backed with “Manuela Boy,” 

‘Hilo Hattie’ Clara Inter, 49th State Hawaii Record Co 158

“Ama Ama,” backed with “Marcelle Vahini,” George “Tautu” Archer, Bell Records

The records have certainly been played, but they appear to be in pretty good shape.

Bottom line:  a friend was cleaning house after her husband died, and these records were in the “stack.”  I thought they were kind of interesting, especially for the record label.  If they have some value, it would be good to know that.

Yes,  if you could post this as a comment, I’d be most appreciative.  I’m not sure what address to give you that would not be “private.”  My only alias is k6zh@arrl.net. 

ALOHA 'OE!

50 years ago today Hawaii became a state. I was lucky enough to be there for the event. At the time I wasn't aware of the real history of the islands and how statehood was not something welcomed by many of the Hawaiians themselves. How the US Government, the missionaries, and the wealthy white landowners had taken control away from Queen Liliʻuokalani and the native people. It was all part of American expansion. It's not a pretty history for such a beautiful place. But if this history had not occurred I probably would have never lived there. I wouldn't give up my years there for anything. Hawaii was a magical place for a child.

Click on image to see coin larger.

I still remember when I moved back to the Mainland in the middle of the winter I arrived to my new school tan with no warm clothes to wear. For years I'd worn nothing heavier than a sweater if it got cool, which meant mid-70s. I was treated as an oddity by the other children because as far as they were concerned I had dropped out of the sky from a foreign place. Sometimes I still think people in this country forget that Hawaii is the 50th state, not a foreign country. I even heard so called television journalists berating the President when he took a vacation to the islands in the middle of last years election, saying he shouldn't be leaving the country to visit someplace so exotic. I just shook my head at their stupidity.

So here's to Hawaii and all of her people. Raise a toast to the Queen and wonder what the Islands would have been like if there were still a monarchy.

(Source: Paradise of the Pacific 1960, No. 11, Vol. 71) Click on image to see it larger. 

AND WHAT DID YOU DO at the beach?

These illustrations are from the 1946 Scott, Foresman and Company Before We Read. And yes, this is the same Dick and Jane family, but in a little workbook. The whole gang is here except for Puff. Puff didn't get to go to the beach. Obviously Dick and Jane's folks weren't fools. Who would take a cat to the beach? I'm sure there is someone out there who has one leash trained that does very nicely on the beach, thank you very much. I had a cat that was leash trained. I don't care how odd it looked. It worked for me...except for when we took walks for him to go to the bathroom and all he did was dig a golf course. Then I'll admit, it looked really really stupid.

This book is virtually nothing but pictures. The only words appear at the end and they are...drum roll please..."Dick" and "Jane" repeated several times. Someday I'll scan those. Until then I thought we needed something a little summertime, a little bit of Dick and Jane at the beach. Can you say "See Jane play. See Jane play with Spot. Run Spot run." I'm sure you can. 

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THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT are just the construction crew

If you don't live in Northern California or have never visited here then there's a good possibility you've never heard of the Winchester Mystery House. If you're ever passing through San Jose make a point of stopping. You won't be disappointed if you like odd places or Victorian architecture run amok.

I'll let Wikipedia give you a brief biography:

The Winchester Mystery House is a well-known California mansion that was under construction continuously for 38 years, and is reported to be haunted. It once was the personal residence of Sarah Winchester, the widow of gun magnate William Wirt Winchester, but is now a tourist attraction. Under Winchester's day-to-day guidance, its "from-the-ground-up" construction proceeded around-the-clock, without interruption, from 1884 until her death on September 5, 1922, at which time work immediately ceased. The cost for such constant building has been estimated at about US $5.5 million (if paid in 1922, this would be equivalent to almost $70 million in 2008 dollars). (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

The story long told is that following the death of her husband and daughter the distraught Sarah Winchester was told by a medium that there was a curse on the Winchester family because of all the people who had been killed by the guns made by the Winchester Repeating Arms Company (maker of the famous Winchester rifle).

Although this is disputed, popular belief holds that the Boston Medium told Winchester that she had to leave her home in New Haven and travel West, where she must "build a home for yourself and for the spirits who have fallen from this terrible weapon, too. You must never stop building the house. If you continue building, you will live forever. But if you stop, then you will die too." (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

This is the oddest house I've ever been in. Okay, "odd" really doesn't cover it. Staircases to nowhere. Doors that open onto solid walls. And a bathroom door for the servants that was glass because she didn't trust them. That has always stuck in my mind from the tour oh so long ago. She must have been a real delight to work for.

This little packet of photos dates back to the 1940s. The photos measure 3" x 2". I bought a similar pack in the 1960s.

Click on any image to see it larger.

To read more about the Winchester Mystery House visit their website.

SUMMERTIME reading

Raise your hand if you remember the Scholastic Book Club when you were in school. 4 books for 4 quarters, shipping included. What a deal! My allowance was up to 25 cents a week so that meant it took me a month to save up enough money. Of course during that month I'd also probably have bought some comic books, maybe walked to town to go see a movie, and stopped at the deli for a sandwich. Okay, so maybe it took me a few months to save enough for the four books.  But I did manage to buy a few. My friend across the street bought some too and then we'd share so we'd feel like we'd gotten double the books. Of course she bought "The Pink Motel" and I didn't and I spent the next few decades hunting for the book.

Anyway, if you remember this little club you know the sales page was in the middle of the Scholastic Reader handed out every so often by your teacher. You could take the reader home and pour over the two page spread trying to imagine which books you'd buy. Then on a specific day the teacher would take your order with your coins and in a few weeks a big box would arrive. Everyone who'd bought something was excited as the box was opened and the contents distributed. Those who hadn't bought anything could at least take solace in knowing for those moments no teaching was taking place so you were free to let your mind wander.

The spread below is from a SummerTime Scholastic Reader in 1963. Do click on it to see it larger so you can take a trip down memory lane and imagine placing your order.

And now, for a few books I bought and one that was passed down to me from my best friend after it had been passed to her from her friend and before that someone else and before that...all  the names written on the inside cover. By the time it got to me it was falling apart so I loaned it out to a few friends who gave it back lest they be the ones to have nothing but a stack of pages scattered across their floor. 

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Big Read by Jim Kjelgaard, copyright 1945

Strangely Enough by C. B. Colby, copyright 1959

The Black Spaniel Mystery by Betty Cavanna, copyright 1945

The Mystery of the Empty Room by Augusta Huiell Seaman, copyright 1953

And finally one I found in a thrift store years ago. I've never read it, but imagine I would have had it on my list. I mean, she's wearing my swimsuit, except mine was red. And she was hanging out with surfers. Of course I would have wanted this!

Practically Seventeen by Rosamond du Jardin, copyright 1943.

Unlike a lot of the books marketed to kids today, parents knew with these that they were safe. For us they were fun. For today's kids they'd be a bore. I have to feel sorry for them. Too much, too soon.

And from the almost always interesting Wikipedia I give you this little bit of history:

In 1920, Maurice R. "Robbie" Robinson founded the business he named Scholastic Publishing Company in his hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. As a publisher of youth magazines, the first publication was The Western Pennsylvania Scholastic. It covered high school sports and debuted on October 22, 1920.

In 1926, Scholastic published its first book, Saplings, which was a collection of selected student writings by the winners of the Scholastic Writing Awards.

For many years the company continued its focus on serving the youth market through the relatively low cost of magazine publication. So, even with the later transition into paperback books, the company continued under the name Scholastic Magazines, Inc., through the 1970s.

After World War II, cheap paperback books became available. In 1948, Scholastic entered the school book club business with its division T.A.B., or Teen Age Book Club with classic titles priced at 25 cents.

In 1957, Scholastic established its first international subsidiary, Scholastic Canada, in Toronto.

The company published paperback books under its division Scholastic Book Services. These were offered to school students via classroom mail order catalogs, known as the Scholastic Book Club. Along with the New York and Toronto publishing locations, the division also expanded further internationally to operate in London, Auckland, and Sydney by the 1960s. By 1974, the paperback book division had expanded into Tokyo as well. (SOURCE: Wikipedia)

And now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go while away a few summer moments on the glider with The Pink Motel. No, this is not a Scholastic Book Club edition, but it was through them that I first read this book. I found it years ago at the Goodwill and grabbed it. I still love it several decades later and can't recommend it enough for children or anyone who likes to imagine themselves still a child.

The Pink Motel by Carol Ryrie Brink, copyright 1959

OSWALD THE LUCKY RABBIT

Before there was Mickey, there was Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Never heard of him? That's not surprising, but in his time Oswald was a big hit with his own merchandising.

Oswald was a character the Disney Studios created after Alice Comedies had run its course. The rabbit starred in a series of 26 animated black & white silent shorts (that were shown in major theaters with first-run movies) between 1927 and 1928. He also was the first Disney character to generate merchandise: a chocolate-covered marshmallow candy bar, a stencil set, and a pin-backed button.

The idea for this character came about when Disney's film distributor Charles Mintz (who was now married to Alice distributor Margaret Winkler) suggested a change in direction to keep his animated shorts fresh. Universal Studios was looking for a cartoon series featuring a rabbit and Mintz/Winkler suggested Walt Disney.
  
Oswald, created by Ub Iwerks and Walt, was a spunky & mischievous character with a personality and look that would later be reminiscent of a certain famous mouse. (In fact it's been said that Mickey Mouse is Oswald with round ears.)

The first Oswald cartoon Trolley Troubles, was released September 5, 1927. Oswald's clever gestures and amusing gags made him a favorite with moviegoers over the next 17 months.  

Disney, constantly striving for a higher quality, began producing Oswald cartoons that were costly. In February 1928 Walt traveled to New York to speak with Mintz about an increase in pay. To Walt's surprise, Mintz wanted to cut his pay by some 20%! In addition, he learned that Mintz controlled the rights to Oswald. Rather than accept the cut, Walt gave up his creation, making Mintz the first of many who believed they could assume Disney's success. (Mintz and Winkler eventually lost the character as well and Walter Lantz went on to animate Oswald well into the 1930s. Ironically Oswald would return to Disney in February 2006!)
  
Walt learned from this loss and went on to create another successful character ... that no one would ever be able to take away. (SOURCE: This Day in Disney History)

You can read more about Oswald at Wikipedia, The Ultimate Disney, Disney Go Vault, and Lantz Golden Age Cartoons .

Now, as to the ad shown below, it is from the November 1931 issue of Comfort. What can I say? Find the matching Oswalds and win $625 or a Ford Tudor Sedan. Where's the fine print? Oh, okay, the whole thing is the fine print. I especially love the line "We do not accept answers from people outside U.S.A. or in Chicago."

Click on image to see it larger.

Now sit back and enjoy a little bit of Oswald, including his first appearance in film, Trolley Troubles. I really love the music in each of these. Then after the shorts get back to work trying to match the Oswalds above. And no, I don't have a Ford sitting in my driveway waiting to be given away to the winner.

Boy oh BOY-AR-DEE!

Okay, before you even think it...yes, I know, this stuff didn't taste anything like a real pizza. I know that. This was standby food. My mother kept things like this and boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese in the cupboards at the cabin in case we got snowed in. The walk from the cabin to the car during the winter was around 1/2 mile. Then you had to put the chains on to drive over the summit to a store which was around 10 miles away. So processed foods were fine and dandy when it was storming outside.

When my father sold the cabin we had to go through everything, over 30 years worth of stuff, and either toss it or put it in the U-Haul and bring it home. You can see where my priorities were. I brought home some great stuff.

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What I find most fascinating about this is what's missing, besides a bar code. If this product were made today there's an ingredient that would be here. This proves it's not needed. See if you can guess what it is.

Now, why did I save this? 99% of the population would call it trash. I look at it differently and not just because I like ephemera. My degree is in graphic design. I've always been attracted to all sorts of design, and old package design has always fascinated me. I had the opportunity to go into advertising after college, but wisely said no. I'm far too cynical about advertising and I wouldn't have lasted long. My big mouth would have eventually gotten me into trouble with some client, or the rolling of my eyes. Publishing was a much better fit for me. And freelance design is even better because I can roll my eyes without any client seeing me. So that's my reason and I stand behind it. I look at this box and think "there but for the grace of God go I." I could have been stuck somewhere pasting-up mechanicals for Chef Boy-ar-dee boxes.

Unlike Betty Crocker, Chef Boyardee, actually Ettore Boiardi, was a real person so the image you see on the box is real. He died in 1985. Betty Crocker went through a variety of images over the years, constantly being "updated" to fit the current "image" of women. I especially loved the uptight one with the business suit and puffy tie. Boiardi stayed true to his image and I believe his image is still used on the products bearing his name, which most likely now contain the dreaded ingredient not in this package.

To see some print advertisements for Boy-ar-dee products, including the pizza, click here.

By the sea, by the sea, BY THE BEAUTIFUL SEA

Why do people on the East Coast say they're going to the shore when they go to the ocean and why do people on the West Coast say we're going out to the coast? I always get such a kick out of hearing my relatives and friends in Pennsylvania say they're going to the shore. It sounds so turn of the century.

This box was most likely purchased at the shore in the 1950s. Specifically Ocean Beach, Maryland shore. I'm not sure of it's age. I do recall at one point it was a button box and contained all sorts of lovely buttons that I'd dump out and play with as a child. Now it's just a box that I keep in a special cupboard where I store old tins and what-nots. I just went in search of the button jar where most of the old buttons have been stored for the past few decades. I decided to take out the ones that spark special memories and put them in a jar on my bookshelf. Funny how little buttons can bring back so many memories.

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This company, Dolle's Salt Water Taffy, is still in business. I have no idea if I ever went there, but I do have memories of going to the boardwalk as a child and playing on the beach. I remember having one of those little plastic Cupie dolls on a stick with feathers sticking out of it and one of the monkey's that you'd wind up and it would play cymbals. Alas, they never came out of storage (Sneer here!) along with my Mouseketter ears. I know, let it go. It's been decades.

The more things change the more THEY REMAIN THE SAME

Before there was Big Pharma was there a little guy in an apartment somewhere with a sure fire cure for warts-aches-pains-lumbago-diabetes-rheumatism-moles-hair loss-asthma, etcetera, etcetera, ecetera? Looking through these ads from the 1931 issue of Comfort you'd think so. All you had to do was write them and they'd send you information about their miracle cure. Now we have big 4 color ads in magazines and nonstop tv commercials. Will any of today's ads be kept as ephemera? Will any of them be lumped in with old fashioned snake oil sales? I can think of quite a few. 

Here, for your viewing pleasure, a variety of the tiny ads that were grouped throughout the back of this issue of Comfort. How many sick people were taken for a ride by these companies? How many people spent part of their meager income hoping for relief? Today instead of writing for information we're repeatedly told "Ask your doctor!" So start scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and then ASK YOUR DOCTOR!

My favorite line is "If you're feeling sour and sunk and the world looks punk..."

But I guess my favorite is just an old home remedy sent in by a reader, a cure for corns. It doesn't say what you do with the vinegar soaked bread after using. Perhaps bury it under a board then turn around three times and scream like a chicken?

YOU'LL MAKE A MILLION KID redux

On May 3rd I did a post called You'll Make a Million Kid about the ads that used to run in comic books for kids to sell stationary or salve. Sell enough and they could get cash or "prizes." One of the companies was Wilson Chemical Company located in Tyrone, Pennsylvania. They manufactured a salve called White Cloverine. Wellllllllllll...my best friend sent me what she called a "Summer Fun Box" that arrived yesterday. No, it wasn't a case of salve. Much better. It's a box full of ephemera. Old photos, TV Guides, clippings, and a periodical called Comfort published in Augusta, Maine in November 1931. Ohhhhhhh, heart be still...it's a treasure trove and over time I'll feature a lot of the ads within. But first I give you the Wilson Chemical Company redux.

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Now remember, this is during the Depression so kids and adults were looking for anyway possible to make money. This wasn't some snot nosed kid in a stripped t-shirt in the 50s or 60s with time on their hands wanting a Roy Rogers Flash Camera or thinking if they knocked on enough doors they'd get a free pony. This was far more serious business. 

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You know, someone must have been able to get these prizes or this company couldn't have stayed in business for so long pushing the same idea to kids. I still keep hoping someday someone out there in the net world will find this post and give us a story about what it was like to actually collect on this.

UPDATE: Reader Dave Williams has provided the following interesting link with more information about the Wilson Chemical Companies sales practices, especially during the Depression:

http://www.appalachianhistory.net/2012/05/kids-get-rich-selling-cloverline-salve.html

Thanks Dave!

THE PALMER FAMILY loved Camel's, but not each other

Anyone familiar with films from the 1930s knows that the wealthy were portrayed as fantasy figures, used to help people escape into another world, forget that they were living in the Great Depression. The wealth was often ostentatious and the people a bit batty brained. Well...I give you real life example, Mrs. Potter d'Orsay Palmer.

Not only were films portraying the wealthy as the best and brightest our country had to offer, so were women's magazines. Sure, you couldn't afford a new pair of shoes, but if you smoked Camel cigarettes you were in league with the upper classes. You stepped out of your ordinary world into the world of the filthy rich.

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A series of ads ran in the 1930s with wealthy young socialites professing their adoration for the expensive Camel brand. This ad is from the May 1934 Delineator. The copy of the ads were all pretty much the same. Doubtful any of these socialites were actually interviewed about their love of the brand. More likely someone working for R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company wrote all of it. Take a look at the copy in this add

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and then compare it to the copy below from another ad which can be seen here.

Among the many distinguished women who prefer Camel's costlier tobaccos: Mrs. Nicholas Biddle Philadelphia; Mrs. Allston Boyer New York; Miss Mary Byrd Richmond; Mrs. Powell Cabot Boston; Mrs. Thomas M. Carnegie, Jr. New York; Mrs. Henry Field Chicago; Mrs. Potter D'Orsay Palmer Chicago; Mrs. Langdon Post New York; Mrs. William T. Wetmore New York

"Of course is I smoke Camel's. . ." Miss Dorothy Paine "They're the most popular cigarettes--every one is smoking them now," continued this alert young member of New York's inner circle. "Camels have such a grand smooth flavor. I suppose that's because they have more expensive tobaccos in them. And they never make my nerves jumpy. When I'm tired out and my nerves feel frazzled, then a Camel gives me a nice gentle 'lift' that restores by enthusiasm." The reason you feel better after smoking a Camel is because it releases your latent energy, which overcomes fatigue. When you feel tired, you can always get a pleasant, natural "lift" by enjoying a Camel. And you can smoke as often as you wish, for Camels never upset the nerves.

Now exactly who was Mrs. Potter d'Orsay Palmer, aka Maria Eugenia Martinez de Hoz? Well she was the 2nd wife of Potter d'Orsay Palmer, playboy son of the wealthy Palmer family of Chicago's Palmer House Hotel. She apparently came from a very wealthy family of landowners in Argentina (if you speak Spanish perhaps you can find some information here). They divorced in 1937 and by December 1938 Mr. Potter Palmer divorced his 3rd wife, Pauline Warren. Maria Eugenia Martinez de Hoz seems to have disappeared from history, at least from what I find online. He married wife number 4 a couple days after his divorce from wife number 3. According to Ancestry.com Maria received a sizable divorce settlement, something the next two Mrs. Potter's did not:

Palmer's first two wives supposedly received divorce settlements totalling about $5,000,000, but the third Mrs. Palmer received only $250 a month alimony and counsels' fees ($10,000). Few days after his divorce, Potter Palmer married Pluma Louise Lowery Abatiello, 23, roadhouse waitress.

As to playboy Potter d'Orsay Palmer, not so great ending. He died from a cerebral hemorrhage in May 1939 following a drunken brawl in Sarasota, Florida with a meat cutter by the name of Kenneth Nosworthy. You can read a fascinating newspaper article from May 16, 1939 at The Evening Independant. The following is from the account given to the Assistant State's Attorney Smiley by Mr. Nosworthy:

Palmer, who had been drinking, singled Nosworthy out, followed him around and taunted him. Nosworthy tried to avoid him but Palmer pursued the meat cutter, cursed him and struck him with his fist. Nosworthy returned the blow, knocking Palmer to the ground. Palmer pulled Nosworthy down as he fell and the two scuffled briefly and then got to their feet. Palmer then tried to wield a bottle and when he did, Nosworthy struck the Sarasotan a hard blow with his fist. The two parted and Palmer left the picnic sometime later.

Nosworthy said he did not know Palmer and had never seen him prior to his appearance at the outing, a stag affair given to raise funds for the Bradenton police radio system.

The oft-wedded heir only recently had effected a reconciliation with his wife, the fourth, whom he married last December a few weeks after meeting her at a roadside inn where she worked as a waitress.

Seriously, read the newspaper article. You'll feel like you're in an old black and white film. There is also a photo of the playboy himself with wife-y number 4.

And you thought this was just a piece of ephemera. Like most advertising, it's all smoke and mirrors, half-truths. The truth about Mrs. Potter d'Orsay Palmer could never be told in an ad.

Addendum thanks to Susan's question:

Indeed there is more to the story about wife-y No. 4 and you'll never guess the direction she took.

Yes, she had to sign a pre-nup. You can read about her and her attorney's attempts at getting money here. She got nothing.

But then her history continues right out of an old gangster film. Yes, I said gangsters.

The twenty-seven-year-old beauty, who had married John Moran the previous January, had a flair for short-lived and dramatic marriages. In December 1938 she had married Potter d'Orsay Palmer in Florida, where she had been a waitress at a Sarasota sandwich stand, but the couple spent more time apart than together. They argued often, and Palmer preferred the company of his cronies to that of his neurotic wife, who would call the police in a fit of hysterics whenever he stayed away for too long.

In early 1939 Louise filed suit for $500,000 in damages against her wealthy in-laws, claiming that their meddling had alienated her husband's affection for her, but reconciliation with Palmer led her to drop it. When he died in May 1939 from a brain hemorrhage incurred after a fist-fight at a party, the Palmer family cut her off without a cent, having disapproved of the marriage. She married again, this time to Ellsworth Struck, but the union barely lasted a year. Struck went home to Ohio, and Louise made her way to Chicago.

She met John Moran in the fall of 1943 at the Chez Paree nightclub, where she had been working as a hatcheck girl. It did not take long for the relationship to sour; Moran responded to her fits of rage and tearful tantrums by simply packing his bags and going stay with his father or checking into a men's hotel. Her May 1944 "amnesia attack" had been preceded by a particularly nasty quarrel.

George and Evelyn Moran interceded when they could, but the marriage did not last. While Evelyn took the irate young woman to a coffee shop to calm down and talk after one knock-down, drag-out argument, George Moran spoke frankly to his son.

"She's a gold-digger, and nuts," he insisted. "Get rid of her. If she won't divorce you, lock her up in a nuthouse. I'll pay for it."

John Moran, a bartender, was less vindictive and rejected the offer. In the end the marriage terminated of its own accord. The couple divorced in April 1946, with Pluma Louise charging desertion and waiving alimony. By that point she and John were glad to see the last of each other. (SOURCE: The Bugs Moran Story: The Man Who Got Away by Rose Keefe; Cumberland House Publishing, May 2005).

Now here's the kicker. George Moran, the father in-law, was Bugs Moran, the gangster from Chicago. It was his gang that was killed at the St. Valentine's Day massacre.

Oh what a tangled web we find when walking through ephemera blind.

UPDATE as of 4.25.11: I have heard from María Eugenia Martínez de Hoz granddaughter, Matilde, with the following information. Sometimes the net really amazes me. Thanks Matilde. I appreciate this information. It allows your grandmother to be more than just a photo in an old ad. Thanks!

María Eugenia Martínez de Hoz, that's my grandmother. She divorced him, came back to Argentina, fell madly in love with my grandfather and they lived between Buenos Aires and a farm in Córdoba were they raised my dad and uncle. Two boys. My grandfather was another playboy in a way, but much closer to nature that Potter was to booze. He was the kind of person that reminds you of fireworks when he is laughing and making you laugh. He had a gift for making people adore him. She didn't get a penny. She died young and wanted to live longer. If she had lived 6 months longer she would have inherited something from the Palmers since her Mother in Law adored her. But she never cared much, she only wanted to survive some more weeks to get to know her first grandchild, my cousin Martín. She didn't make it. But I guess she found love. We know her as "Bebé". — Matilde LLambí