Happy Holidays - from 60 Years Ago

Every year, Mom and Dad sent a mimeographed Christmas Letter to their friends, and I've just located one of those vintage messages. The heading above was drawn by Dad, and the messages themselves serve to remind me of the way times have changed (though I'm still, obviously, into comics) and the way our parents managed to maintain our world as kids while going through challenging events.

Dear Friends,

This is to notify you of the change in location of headquarters of our firm and the reason for it. As you will remember from our last annual report, we were enthusiastically planning to rebuild the house at Lark Meadows. However, because of the country-wide expected shrinkage in enrollments in colleges for the fall of 1951, St. Lawrence, like many other schools, was forced to reduce the number of its faculty and the head of our firm was so reduced (actually he didn’t lose a pound, which he could ill have spared). Inquiries of a number of colleges brought to light several good possibilities, the most attractive of which was at Allegheny College in Meadville, Penna., and here the Head of the firm accepted an appointment in May. The secretary wrote the treasurer of Allegheny College hoping for assistance in finding just the quarters which the firm required … a bathtub on the premises, three or four bedrooms, doorknobs on the doors, a study for the head of the firm, a kitchen large enough to contain the breakfast table and washer as well as the usual stove and sink. The treasurer was none too hopeful, especially when the request included wishes that the house should be in the country, have a garage and lawn, and be on a paved road. At least there was nothing yet available when the firm sent its effects into storage and moved for the summer to Mother Curtis' house in Ithaca on the first of July. About the middle of August, all members of the firm drove to Oberlin, Ohio, where Mother McGee supervised the activities of the junior members and the senior members went to Meadville to find housing. There they fell in love with a house which, unfortunately, was so tied up financially that the bank decided to try for a quick sale and not rent it. There seemed to be nothing else; so the members returned to Ithaca. A house in Meadville suddenly became available, and Pres. Ed dashed to Meadville to rent it; but someone else had beat him to it. He discussed courses with Bob Bugbee (head of the biology department) and returned to Ithaca. On Sept. 14, he returned to Meadville for the opening of school … to find that the bank had reversed its decision not to rent the house … and on the 21st of September the new headquarters were formally opened.

FOUNTAIN HOUSE is supposed to be part of the original tremendous inn of that name at which Lafayette is reputed to have slept. The name comes not from the waterfall which yesterday poured into the cellar when it rained, but from a huge watering trough which stood in what is now our front yard. The spring which fed the trough supplies the water for the house. It (the house) is rectangular, white, tree-surrounded. A central stair leads to the four upstairs bedrooms; downstairs are living room, play room, study, kitchen, and bath. Not only is there a bathtub, garage, guest room, ample kitchen, and isolatable study; but there are doorknobs on the doors, a tremendous attic, and four acres of apple trees, grapes, raspberries, and tangle. It is four miles from the college but in the center of a small faculty settlement: the other new man in the biology department lives across one road and the college treasurer across the other.

The secretary-treasurer of the firm at once dashed to town and bought a second-hand stove and refrigerator and bed for the maaaster bedroom (the Canton bed having been sold there in retribution for its infernal uncomfortability). The house with its miles of white woodwork begs for fluffy white curtains and lush carpeting and other goodies … which makes living in it fun because every month it may have a little of the fluff it asks for, and it's so grateful. The pres has already constructed a beautiful floor lamp from copper piping and wire cloth, and another is in the process of construction. The general manager has reupholstered a chair; a rug is in the process of being sewed together and tinted for the living room; the guest room is slowly being repainted, a piece of linoleum has been cut and placed under the laundry rack to provide a dripping-place for snowsuits; and Christmas will be good to the house too, though we haven’t decided just how.

Major achievements and work in progress of the member of the firm for the last ten months are listed below.

WILLIAM EDGAR CURTIS, president and chief investor: has completed the dissertation for the Ph.D. degree, "Quantitative studies of echolocation in bats (Myotis l. lucifugus); Studies of vision of bats (Myotis l. lucifugus and Eptesicus f. fuscus); and Quantitative studies of vision of owls (Tyto alba pratincola)." He expects to take the final exam for the degree sometime this month or next. He has prepared a new course in comparative anatomy and is preparing one in general physiology. He has drive at least 2600 miles. He has trained a bat to come to a certain place for food and to fly around between feedings. He has constructed a copper floor lamp and a new bat cage for his new bat, Tssitt. And he has mastered the art of firing the soft coal furnace.

ELIZABETH M. CURTIS, secretary, treasurer, general manager, and janitress: She has been cleaning house (she feels) steadily since May 1. She has nursed the junior members through a case of measles and flu each. She has packed the firm’s effects for a major and a minor move and has unpacked and settled twice. She has upholstered a chair and painted boards for a bookcase. Her chief work in progress is a play (sci-fic of course) which is coming along smoothly if slowly. She costumed her children with such ingenuity that they both won first prizes at the Saegertown Hallowe'en parade.

MARGARET JUDSON CURTIS, vice president in charge of literary and dramatic research, evaluation of propaganda and educational procedures, and cowhand extraordinary: Has recovered promptly from all measles and other such annoyances, has started school in two different places, has examined a tremendous quantity of comic books and western movies and reported on their quality. Her school at Saegertown (to which she rides on the bus which stops at the door) runs a double shift and she goes to the morning session, leaving her afternoon free for learning to cook, doing homework, playing with the three boys her age who live near, and for the researches listed above. She is finding fifth grade well attuned to her present abilities.

MARY NASH CURTIS, vice president in charge of dolls and stuffed animals, janitress' assistant, and general overseer and underseer: completed the second term of nursery school, learned to swim effectively with a tube and somewhat without it, succeeded in dressing herself completely (except for some hard snaps and tying her shoes). She is not going to nursery school this fall because of transportation difficulties and is spending the time thus freed in assisting with watching the washing machine and in working up complicated "let’s tend I'm the mother and you're the baby" dramas with Marilyn Rogers from across the street. She has also become adept at climbing apple trees in preparation for next year's crop.

Our new headquarters is now prepared for your inspection and patronage; and we hope that we may count on your continued interest, approval, and willingness to inform us of your doings and happenings. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Jubilant Easter!

Molly, Judy, Bets + Ed

[And this appended note appeared upside down:]

Dear Would-be Reader of that outstanding fanzine, THE CRICKET,

This letter is in partial explanation of the year-long delay in production of a new edition of the CRICKET and the similar delay in reprinting old issues. And it may be months yet before we get around to doing anything about it. I am still trying valiantly to work the writing of science-fiction into a housekeeping schedule more exacting than any I have previously known. Your name is on a mailing list for the next issue, which will carry a statement of how to continue to be on the mailing list. I hope you will forgive our not having acknowledged your letters and cards during the last six months. We were busy.

Betsy Curtis

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Comics Fans before Comics Fandom

In the midst of celebrating the 50th anniversary of the beginning of what we call "comics fandom," a few folks now and then will announce (as if it were uncharted territory) that some people collected comics (and even published fanzines with comics commentaries) prior to 1961. (Most often cited are the E.C. fanzines of the 1950s.) The reason we're celebrating 50 years is that 1961 marked the start of a fandom that didn't go away; earlier endeavors did not grow and build into a long-term, ongoing community of hobbyists. But, especially among science-fiction fans (with a tradition of amateur self-publication), there were certainly people who shared their fondness for comics. A case in point was The Cricket, and I turned up a copy of the first issue (June 1949) recently.

The Cricket, self-described as "A periodical of culture and reefinement" with the epigraph "You plays cricket, drinks tea, and lifs the pinky when you holds the cup" (a Walt Kelly quote from Animal Comics), was a fanzine published by my mom and dad and edited by Betsy Curtis (aka Mom) "at their editorial offices, mimeograph salon, studio, dishwashing and ironing parlors, nursery and residence." Circulation of the mimeographed newsletter (judging from the published list of recipients) was 36, only 4 copies of which went to relatives. In the midst of book, magazine, and music recommendations is the following essay by Mom. (I shall not italicize it or put it in quotes; suffice to say the rest of this post is by her.):

Best Sellers

So many friends have asked me in grim or pathetic tones, "Do you approve of comic books?" that I feel I must make some public statement which I can hand out to such gals and run for cover while they are reading it. The question, of course, makes about as much sense as "Do you approve of books?" but it is hard to say this without being thought impertinent or irrelevant by the questioners.

Comic books are naturally appealing. Pictures, like stage drama, are more interesting than mere print. The rapid action of most of the plots and the excitement of adventure hold a child's attention in comics as they do in western movies. Passages of slow moving description are not necessary when the action is presented in pictures.

Many objections to comic books have to do with their subject matter. It is certainly not surprising that the children of avid whodunit readers should like detective comics and that children who are offered few fairy tales should satisfy their craving for fantasy with Superman and the Green Lantern (whose doings are in their way more moral than "Big Claus and Little Claus" and most of the contents of the Red, Violet, and Blue Fairy Books. And comics are cheaper than "good" fantasy - the Oz books are still retailing at $2. I wish I could afford to supply Judy [my nickname in 1949] with books which she would enjoy more (and there are plenty) than comics.

Some mothers object that their children bury themselves in comics and no longer spend time in active "fantasy play" with their friends. Cops and robbers are supposed to have given way to afternoons in the corners of the sofa with piles of comics. Comics are also supposed to have replaced "real literature" in the lives of our young. I can see no reason why there should not be a "real literature" in comic form. It is slow in taking shape, but the work of such artists as [Morris] Gollub, [Dan] Noonan, and Kelly give promise that comics can be good reading for children. Certainly these stories have been acted out by children - I've seen and heard it.

Comic art is a young art. When better comics are printed, kids will read them. I have considerable faith in the taste of children - they like good fiction better than bad; but as long as they are offered only mediocre, bad, and worse, in a form that is more appealing and cheaper than good stories, they will continue to read mediocre, etc.

I don't know how to get good comics on the market any more than I know how to encourage the writing and publishing of other good books for children - but I am hopeful that artists and publishers will come across in time for our grandchildren to have lots of fun at a very moderate cost.

...

The largest number of periodicals in our household seems, in spite of culture and reefinement, to be made up of comic books. Most of our collection are really intended to be comic - that is, funny. Most of them are published by the Dell Publishing Company and portray the doings of urban children (Little Lulu, Henry) or urban animal child-substitutes (Walter Lantz, Merrie Melodies, Walt Disney, Tom and Jerry, etc.) The cream of the crop were, in the recent past, Our Gang, Raggedy Ann, and Fairy Tale Parade (still Dell) with the excellent drawing, interesting stories and amusing dialogue of Walt Kelly, Dan Noonan, and Morris Gollub; but these three gentlemen seem to be deserting the comic book business and two of the publications are no longer in existence. The least painful comics still on the market other than the ones I have just mentioned seem to be the Disney ones. I should recommend a recent special, still on the stands in Canton - "Donald Duck in the Treasure of the Andes" [Dell Four Color #223, actually "Lost in the Andes" by Carl Barks] - as the best of the recent dime publications for the four-to-eight year old. We do seem to have accumulated a number of Superboy, Wonder Woman, and Bat Man opera, but these do not hold the attention of our six-year-old for more than five or six readings. Even Raggedy Ann can beat that.

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