Genevieve. (1953 film)

Coronavirus notwithstanding, it's still too cold in my garage to work on the Model T and get a couple of fresh tyres on the wheels, ready for the forthcoming driving season.
That's how I found myself watching this classic British film from 1953.
Set against the background of the London to Brighton veteran car run, it is centered around the friendship, (and rivalry) between two friends Alan McKim, (owner of the eponymous 1904 Darracq) played by John Gregson, and Ambrose Claverhouse portrayed by Kenneth More who drives a 1905 Spyker. Along with their long suffering wives and girlfriends played by the stunning Dinah Sheridan and Kay Kendall respectively.
The run goes well for Claverhouse, but not so well for McKim, and as a result the married couple end up spending a night in a rather terrible hotel. This part of the film features a truly hilarious performance from Joyce Grenfell as the hotel receptionist.
After a fractious evening at the post event party, fuelled by alcohol and petty jealousies. McKim and Claverhouse decide to race back to London from Brighton the following day, for the princely sum of one hundred pounds, (which was earlier established be nearly all the McKim's savings). The women being unwitting partners in this highly illegal event.
It is from here on that the film really gathers its comedic steam with farcical situations piled one on top of the other with such frequency it's difficult to keep track of them. Suffice to say that the film reaches a happy ending in its own bizarre way.
It can be difficult to judge a film that is 67 years old. As attitudes, like the times have changed. For instance, though the couples "kiss" you never see their lips touch. Likewise, any amorous activities are shunned. Which does lead to a very amusing double entendre as the film fades from the McKim's bedroom to the to the start of the car run and the commentators voice over could cleverly be taken both ways...
It's not a riotous, laugh out loud comedy. It's driven by the characters and the situations they find themselves in, from the pig headed pride of Alan McKim, to Ambrose Claverhouse's male chauvinism. A man who thinks nothing of telling his girlfriend (Kendall) to "put her back into it" as she stands calf deep in water trying to push the Spyker out of a ford.  As the men battle with each other in their boorish way, the women are content to get along and many times put their partners in their place with a wry glance or a put down remark.

Why should you watch an almost 70 year old film? For a start, it is one of the great films of the twentieth century. A film that is the equal of any British comedy from the great Ealing Studios. Then there's the soundtrack, performed by harmonica virtuoso Larry Alder that perfectly complements the feel. It's a film that portrays a way of life now gone, post war Britain where politeness and good manners worked wonders and an honest sounding "I'm sorry officer" would get you let off a speeding ticket.

I can't finish though, without mentioning one scene about 10 minutes from the end that defines this as the ultimate classic car film. As the two cars chase into London, they are stopped by a policeman directing traffic. An old gentleman, played superbly by Arthur Wontner, comes out of a shop, spies the car, and begins to wax lyrical on how he met and courted his wife in a Darracq like Genevieve. Listening to this old man recount his story as Claverhouse speeds away in the Spyker, McKim is sure to loose the race, the bet, and the car. But it doesn't matter and his face softens as the story lengthens, and in the end he offers to take the old man and his wife for a ride in Genevieve the next day. This is when you realise that this film really "gets" what it means to own a classic car of any vintage. I'm sure we've all come across person looking at one of our cars and has been regailed with tales of how they, or a friend had one. It's always a special moment for me when that happens and this film realises that like no other film had done before, and probably ever will. That is why you should watch it.

Drop me a line...

The last couple of posts in the blog have concerned early advertising postcards and the mysterious artists who produced them. At that time postcards were a popular thing. If people only wanted to drop someone a quick note then a postcard was sent. In the United States early postcards didn't even have an image on the front. It was the address on one side message on the other. 

The Post office had a monopoly on the printing of these cards. In 1907 they allowed the address and message to be written on the same side so the front could be used for an image. This was when when the postcard business took off in a big way. This allied with the booming photography industry lead to something known today as the RPPC.

In 1903, The Kodak company introduced the 3A folding pocket camera. The film this camera took gave postcard sized prints, 5 1/2" x 3 1/2" and so it was a sound business decision in 1907 when the Post office allowed the address and message on the one side that Kodak introduced a service where your images could be printed onto postcard stock. Thus was introduced the Real Photo Post Card.

The Kodak 3A

Though there were many mass produced RRPC's of tourist attractions and important events of the day (some of them none too savoury as well) This was also a popular service among the general populace. If you had a camera, You took some pictures of your travels and adventures had them processed as postcards and sent them out to family and friends, much in the same way as you'd email pictures today. Photography studios and travelling photographers who produced these cards were unknowingly documenting life in everyday America. Everything from marriages and births to new cars, these things were photographed and mailed around the country.

A typical RPPC with what appears to be an ordinary family in their car.

The message on the back gives some context to the image on the front.
"My dear friend I have been looking this long while for a letter from you. Perhaps you are busy - perhaps  you have forgotten us - No I don't believe you have forgotten. Would like so much to see you. Bro J---- took the picture while here holding our meetings. Jana, Paul, Jewel and sister O'neals girl and boy were p-------. Write me when you have time by by"

The rear of this card only states a couple of names. The person in the car might be one of them.

The technology of printing these cards was not without problems for some. Sometimes, as in the first card shared. The image was skewed and also was wrong way up in relation to the rear. 

There were other problems too, the images below are the same card. A Model T by a lake. It was printed as in the small image. However, closer inspection of the car and the registration plate shows it to be printed in reverse. 

The right way round, the image makes sense now.

I have acquired quite a few automobile related postcards since taking on the ownership of my Model T. I expect that I'll share some more of them with you as we go on.

Ashland's claim to Model T fame

It was about 6 months ago (as I write this) when I agreed to take possession of Jan's Ford Model T. She was as excited about this as I was and eagerly told me about some of the things that came with the car. Lots of spare parts of course, and literature. Manuals, catalogues, and the like. There was one book in particular that she was keen for me to have and read because it had local interest. This one.

A chronicle of an amazing journey in another time.

"Ford Tramps" concerns the adventures of two young men; Seegar Sawnson and Elliott Nystrom, who hailed from Ashland WI, home of the Model T that I was to take care of. The book is based on the journals that Swanson had kept on the trek. Though the journey took place when the two were fresh out of High School, Swanson didn't use the notes in the journal to produce this book until he was about 90.
The adventure took them to the four corner states of the mainland USA. This took from September 1924 to July 1925 in a 1919 T Touring that Swanson had just bought. They spent most nights sleeping in the car, while washing and doing laundry at YMCA's along the way. All this with no more than $100 to their name.

If they ran out of money, they stopped and got jobs until they had earned enough money to carry along on their way. They spent 4 months in Florida over the winter months. There were plenty of jobs to be had, and they could get a job pretty much whenever they needed one.
The journey was tough. Well constructed roads that we take for granted today, were rare and a good proportion of the trip took place on rough gravel roads that were hard on the tyres. On one particular day nine punctures were recorded. A fender fell off after they left Florida behind, the salty atmosphere had corroded the bolts that fixed the fender to the car. Then as the journey drew to a close crossing the Dakotas and Minnesota, the concern was that they wouldn't make it home because one of the wooden wheels was set to fall to pieces.

The book is a fascinating account of a different time, a time when everyone seemed friendlier. Morals were different. Distant relatives and strangers welcomed the travellers into their houses and Ashland, Wisconsin citizens were found all over the country eager to help and learn of the journey.
All in all, an interesting read. It can easily be found at used book sellers like abebooks.com

A historical interlude (1) Billie O'Hern

(This is the first in a series of historical articles that, though not directly relevant to my T, are prompted by the research and findings for it.)

All cars have keys, even Model T's. Naturally you need a key ring to keep them on, and the vast majority of key rings have a fob on them. Wether for decoration, publicity, or nowadays, security.
The spare set of keys for my T have a rather interesting fob with them, which set me on a historical investigation.
Firstly, I should state that these are not the original keys for my 1926 Coupe, but as Ford only used a limited number of keys for their cars back then, they fit.

Who was Billie O'Hern?

Just who was Billie O'Hern of Minneapolis?
As the bottle opener end of the fob says "Auto", I originally wondered if he was a Minneapolis car dealer. The Google machine gave me an answer very quickly. He wasn't a car dealer, but a saloon keeper and tobacco seller who also ran a pool room at the Cedar Avenue property.
In addition to the name and address on the fob, there is the wording "NW Main 2137", that is his telephone number. As for "Auto 38207",  that may well be the registration of a car. That would mean these keys could be for a vehicle with a plate number 38207.

This period number plate perhaps gives a clue to what the "Auto 38207" means.

Born to an Irish father and Canadian mother in 1875, Billie opened the saloon at 927 Cedar in 1902. His trade cards of the era show that he referred to himself as Billy O'Hern or in later times Wm. F. O'Hern rather than "Billie" as seen on my item. By the time of the 1918 date on the fob, prohibition was only a couple of years away. This was the year the Wartime Prohibition Act was passed that banned the sale of drinks above 1.28% alcohol by volume. Perhaps the changes of name were to give him an air of respectability in these times.

A naked lady on a key fob?
Probably quite risqué in 1918.

Let's take a look at the backside of the opener. A naked lady, stood in water. Is she bathing? It's certainly a risqué image for the times. Another bottle opener from O'Hern's that I found on the internet  has the same motif on it and was intended as a token worth 2 1/2 cents to trade in for a drink at his establishment. Is the naked lady a racy image just to titillate, or does it imply that ladies were available there? It is rumoured that Whiskey Junction at the end of the block was a brothel. But as for Billie's place. We will never know.
What of the establishment, What of 927 Cedar? It is long gone, probably demolished when Interstate 94 was built in the 1960's, as many neighbourhoods were during the construction of the highway. Cedar Avenue itself was realigned at this time which also makes things difficult to follow today.
Nowadays the address seems to be part of a warehouse parking lot. But just down the road, at 913 Cedar is the well known Minneapolis music venue, The Cabooze, and its neighbour "The Joint".

927 Cedar and the locale today. (Google Maps image)

Whiskey Junction, at the end of the block is a structure built in 1886

Perhaps "The Joint", and "Whiskey Junction" at 901 Cedar give us an indication of what Billie O'Hern's place might have looked like back in the 1900's as they are contemporary with his establishment.
Did the original owner of these keys frequent Billie's place in 1918? These were certainly the years when you could have a T in any colour you liked as long as it was black, and if you were to come out of the bar, into the street to a line of identical, black Model T's, the only way you would have of telling your car from the others was to know its number plate.
Could these keys even be from Billy's own car?
Perhaps it's just a random piece of ephemera put on the key ring by a trader to make the keys look interesting.
We will never know for sure, but it's an interesting piece of history anyway.