The Posted Past found its merry mission (and so much more) among the postcard albums that lined the office walls of Robert L’Ecuyer.
Postcards often stand in when more elaborate words fail. A passionate love that could barely tumble off the lips, makes itself clear in the symbol of a deep red rose. We are filled with pride, and a giant cheer bursts out of the mailbox just to say congratulations and hurrah! Also, when the sorrow is so deep, a sympathy card avoids the risks of intrusion and protects the sacred quiet that helps us heal.
It’s one of those days here at The Posted Past as we lay to rest Robert L’Ecuyer, our father. His love of travel, passion for genealogy, excellent listening skills, and long memory — combined with a truly epic postcard collection — were the makings of an extraordinary experience over the past few years.
I will write more about his wit and wisdom in the weeks ahead. For tonight, a selection of cards just to hold a space for all the gifts of his life.
Here we go! The Posted Past heads into the fall season with rare cards, a new gallery, and a social mission to trade loneliness for connection.
featured postcard~ rare novelty card still holds a mystery
An early 20th century novelty postcard featuring humorous photography and personal correspondence from Missouri.
Front of the card: The photograph shows a young Black man in white shirt, suspenders, and dark trousers, grinning while holding a large broken umbrella overhead in a playful pose. Below reads the humorous caption “A little disfigured, but still in the ring”—typical novelty humor from the postcard craze era. A black border frames the photograph on cream cardstock.
Back details: The reverse bears “Carbon Photo Series No. 513” identifying the commercial publisher’s series. Addressed to Miss Grace Skillman in Pleasant Hill, Missouri, with a green 1-cent Franklin stamp and clear 1908 postmark. The handwritten message describes an exhausting early morning wait in Lee’s Summit for “Brother and Frank,” and promising a longer letter that evening.
“Still in L.S. haven’t slept but about ten minutes. My eyes looks like two burnt holes in a blanket. Brother and Frank hasn’t come yet. I will wait till 7.30 and then go home. Will write tonight. Just finished my breakfast. I will eat if not sleep. I got here ten till five.
Condition and Appeal: The sepia-toned image displays characteristic early photography with some age spots, and a nicked corner. The image and reverse side remain in good condition with clear photography and legible handwriting. The “Carbon Photo Series” indicates premium production using carbon-based printing methods prized for superior image quality and archival stability. Grace Andre Skillman was born in Pleasant Hill in 1889, making her nineteen when she received this card. The message and the lack of formal salutation and signature suggest this is casual ongoing family correspondence. As a result, the author of the postcard remains a mystery.
Vintage novelty postcards are increasingly collectible, especially numbered commercial series with documented recipients. Collectors of African-Americana may find the image appealing and relatively rare. The combination of carbon printing technology, humorous subject matter, and personal correspondence is of interest to collectors of vintage photography, postcard enthusiasts, genealogy researchers, and those focused on early 20th century American social history and communication.
Introducing~ The Posted Past Art Card Gallery
A selection of Larry L’Ecuyer’s watercolor landscapes are on display in our Online Art Card Gallery. Fitting as our first show. Enjoy!
Countdown to a Lakeside Getaway, 2025, Larry L’Ecuyer, watercolor on postcard
NEWS & UPDATES~ art card call for submissions is open
The World’s Smallest Artist Retreat (our P.O. Box) is awaiting your art card submission. Follow one rule to join the next open show. Details here!
Art card kits now in stock
Our Art Card Kits are perfectly-packaged as a fun, creative activity for you and a friend to complete in as little as an hour or made into a lovely afternoon.
The kit includes two postcard blanks, six vintage finds curated to the chosen theme, and a bundle of collage goodies for your whimsy. There is a free gift inside, too!
Once you’re done, surprise someone with an original art card in their mailbox. Or, send it back to us to include in the next online show. Either way, you’ll have cultivated a little joy in your garden.
Words to heed and repeat, and a life’s work to regard.
George Washington Carver Educational Postcard
This vintage educational postcard (likely printed in the mid-1960s) features quotations from agricultural scientist George Washington Carver (1864-1943), displayed on an exhibit at George Washington Carver National Monument. The card presents Carver’s thoughts on success, preparation, and nature alongside his portrait. Carver, born into slavery, became a prominent botanist and inventor who developed hundreds of uses for crops like peanuts and sweet potatoes while teaching at Tuskegee Institute for 47 years.
I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting system, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in. — George Washington Carver
The George Washington Carver National Monument, established in 1943 near Diamond, Missouri, was the first U.S. national monument dedicated to an African American. Located at Carver’s birthplace, it preserves his legacy and the 1881 Moses Carver house where he lived as a child. The National Park Service now manages the 240-acre nature preserve and historic site.
The summer slow-down is coming to a close, and The Posted Past is launching into a new phase as a social enterprise. On Wednesdays, you’ll still receive a weekly wander through postcard history, along with a new focus on rare cards, and a regular review of the art cards we receive at the World’s Smallest Artist Retreat (our P.O. Box). More inspiration as our circle expands. Wisdom, wisecracks, and butterfly wings. See you in September… next week!
Sweet readers, this is your pre-preview of something very fresh, and a long time coming…
Hold a vintage postcard in your hand and flip it front to back.
On the front, usually an idealized world. Sun-drenched beaches, pristine mountain vistas, city streets captured at their most photogenic moments. Designed to say, “Wish you were here!”
Flip it over, and you find something entirely different. The back reveals the personal, the quixotic, sometimes the magically mundane.
“Weather awful, hotel terrible, a bit bothered by a smelly seatmate on the plane, but having a wonderful time anyway.”
Postcards fascinate me precisely because they embody all of life. They’re both public and personal, both idealized and achingly real. They bring the past forward in time, making unexpected connections with family, friends, and special places—revealing who we have been along the way.
On a very old postcard, the handwriting of someone long gone comes alive again right before our eyes. A jotted note gives us a new view into their private world. Their words leap over the decades to reach us. There is a lush creative commons between now and then, a liminal green lawn to lounge on and take in the cool air.
I have lived happily in those in-between spaces for the last few years. Somewhere in the middle of my life and career and enjoying myself in the meantime. Not where I was before, and both curious and terrified about what comes next.
Well friends, like the best summer novel, the plot thickens.
Starting in September, The Posted Past officially launches a new phase as a social enterprise, inspired by the simple truth that we can trade loneliness for connection, one postcard at a time.
We have already done it, friends!
As one of my earliest subscribers, you have enjoyed (I hope!) an essay every Wednesday for the last year. Going forward, you’ll still get those delightful diversions that remind us we are more than we knew. I’ll also offer sneak peeks at rare postcard finds, each one a small treasure with its own story to tell.
Old or new, postcards have a job to do.
Along the way, I have fallen in love with making and receiving Art Cards. My brother started mailing the lovely landscape watercolors he does when insomnia strikes. A collage free-for-all at the local gallery had me re-inspired by the ‘ransom note’ style I used to do as a teenager. Blink-blink… I found myself dreaming up fabulous cards to make.
Art cards celebrate the artist in all of us. I particularly love collage and watercolor, but truly an art card can be made with scraps. Sometimes the most satisfying work comes from simple gestures, too. Slow down enough to make something with your hands, and then send it away to make someone’s day.
Coming this fall, The Posted Past will feature an online gallery where you can browse through handmade artwork that has traveled across time and space, carrying all the marks of love, adventure, and everyday life. Call for submissions now open, mail your art card to: The Posted Past, P.O. Box 24431, Tempe, AZ 85285.
Abundance can be overwhelming, and it’s not always easy. Right now, I feel both confident and queasy. But, I’m not alone. Here’s how you can help.
Become a paid subscriber—hit the button below to support the effort
Pre-order an Art Card Collage Kit (coming soon!) for your own creative fun
Make an art card and send it to us—be first in the online gallery show!
Though we revel in real life, the handmade, and the historic, The Posted Past is also meant to be super social. Excuse our dust, and help us get started!
Browse the collection of vintage postcards on eBay and follow the store
Both/and. Past and future. Solitude and connection. Cardboard curiosities and some larger-than-life dreams. Thank you for being here together. Keep an eye on your inbox and mailbox—September is full of surprises!
A vibrant Buff-Bellied Hummingbird hovering near a red tubular flower, showcasing its iridescent green head and back, rusty-orange belly, and needle-like bill in a classic feeding pose.
Detailed illustration of a Ferruginous Hawk perched on a branch, displaying its characteristic rusty-brown and white plumage with distinctive feathered legs and robust build typical of North America’s largest hawk.
Depicts a Gray Jay (now called Canada Jay) perched on a snow-dusted branch with small green lichens, showing its fluffy gray and white plumage, black cap, and compact songbird form.
A pair of Pine Warblers on coniferous branches, displaying their olive-yellow plumage with white wing bars and the subtle dimorphism between the brighter male and more subdued female.
A Cattle Egret in breeding plumage with golden-buff crest and back feathers, bright orange-red bill and legs, posed in the elegant stance typical of these large birds.
A set of five Reader’s Digest Association postcards from their Book of North American Birds series. High-quality illustrations and professional production from the 1970s-1980s era of educational materials. Particularly appealing to birders and natural history enthusiasts. Good condition, unposted with no marks. See photos for actual condition. Vintage items – writing, stains, color changes, and wear are part of charm and provenance.
[Note: Summer focus is on detailed captions. Essays return in September!]
The news these days deserves a long silent stare. Here is one from a horse. A century or more later… still no.
[Note: Summer focus is on detailed captions. New essays return in September!]
A vintage real photo postcard shows a dappled gray horse standing in a farmyard setting. The well-built animal is wearing a halter and is positioned in profile to show its conformation. A person in a hat and dark clothing stands beside the horse, likely the owner or handler. The American rural backdrop includes wooden farm buildings and bare winter trees. The ground is packed earth typical of a working farm. The photograph has the characteristic appearance of an early 20th century image, with some evidence of a stylized border in the exposure. The postcard is in excellent condition front and back, unposted with no writing, and an AZO indicia dating the item between 1904 and 1918. The subject matter and production method suggest this is a unique image and object, with no known duplicate.
Is this a portrait of the couple or their hats? Feathers in the band. Fascinator with a wide brim. Stories behind their eyes and more clues in their clothes. The real photo postcard went unsent. Pasted inside an album once, and then lost for 100 years.
A sepia-toned oval portrait photograph from around 1910 showing a couple in formal attire. The woman stands behind the seated man, wearing a wide-brimmed hat decorated with a large bow or fabric flower. She’s dressed in a light-colored blouse with puffy sleeves and a geometric patterned skirt with a button at the waist. The man sits in front wearing a white long-sleeved collared shirt, striped tie, and a small hat with multiple feathers in the brim. Both subjects have neutral expressions typical of formal photography from this era. The real photo postcard shows significant age-related damage, with cracked and yellowed edges, stains, and deterioration around the borders, characteristic of an early 20th-century item previously collected in an album.
The Posted Past marks its one year anniversary with fun, facts, and cats!
A year ago, The Posted Past began with a simple quest—to explore the stories behind my family’s vintage postcard collection. These small windows into the past gave me the chance to be curious and brave as a writer. I wasn’t sure I could research and produce a short essay on a weekly schedule. Fifty-two weeks later, without a single miss, I am happily beyond those worries.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. Together, we’ve traveled from Osaka to Matoon. Looked at buffalos roaming in a Kansas field and donkeys on the English seaside. Iconic views of San Francisco came from its well-known chronicler, and we’ve been on a more recent search for a Mexican photographer who vanished in volcanic ash. Each postcard has taken us to unexpected corners of history—social movements, architectural trends, national parks, and the everyday lives of people who took the time to write, “Wish you were here.”
Today’s postcard reminds me why I love this work. The adorable kittens and lovely roses on the front never go out of style. On the flipside, Maude writes to her mum with a few sweet sentiments and concerns. In between lies a world of personal and cultural histories: the rise of the postcard era, the Victorian language of flowers, the printing techniques that made such colorful cards possible, and the universality of cats. Always, an exchange between people. What we’re really collecting are reminders of tender human connections across time.
What’s new for year two? July will bring a shift in weekly format while I take some vacation time—shorter Wednesday posts spotlighting single cards. After that, I’ll be expanding the eBay store, indulging in the nerdy work of adding captions and citations to old posts, and exploring how these weekly essays might become a book and a workshop series. Like any creative start-up, the first year came with a to-do list of dreams and ideas.
Before I sign off, may I ask: would you ever consider sending a vintage postcard as a gift? The mechanics are easy—choose the perfect card online, add a personal note, and we send it off with love through the post office. But is that something you’d enjoy giving or receiving? Leave me a note in the comments.
Thanks again, and meow for now 🙂 Enjoy the summer!
In February 1943, a photographer enigmatically known only as ‘Navarro’ documented Parícutin’s volcanic destruction of a Michoacán village and church, creating powerful postcards that circulated worldwide at the time and are highly collectible now. Then, Navarro vanished from history.
Parícutin erupted from Dionisio Pulido’s cornfield on February 20, 1943, becoming the first comprehensively documented volcanic birth in human history.
The response was immediate and international. Despite World War II, the Parícutin volcanic plumes commanded global coverage. The geological disruptions of fire and lava inspired scientific awe. Life Magazine dispatched photographers. Newsreels carried footage worldwide. Airlines altered flight paths for passenger viewing. By 1947, Hollywood used the still-active volcano as backdrop for the movie Captain from Castile, employing thousands of locals as extras.
In the extensive archives documenting Parícutin volcano’s nine-year life cycle, one name appears and vanishes: Navarro. His postcard images capture the most significant moment in the volcano’s terrifying story—when lava reached the 400-year-old church of San Juan Parangaricutiro. Despite meticulous record-keeping around this geological event, Navarro himself remains a mystery.
His photographs have more than survived. When story of the events at Parícutin are retold, one always finds a Navarro image. The photographer does appear in one other place: Folder 7 in Box 9 of the William F. Foshag archives.
The Day Lava Reached the Church
Navarro’s postcards document a sequence unfolding over a few crucial days in early 1943. For the year prior, the Purépecha community of San Juan Parangaricutiro had watched lava flows advance on their small village while praying their homes, farms, and colonial church would be spared.
Despite their pleas and processions, the lava flow had accelerated beyond divine intervention. President Lázaro Cárdenas and local priests convinced most residents to evacuate, carrying sacred objects and any moveable materials to the nearby town of Uruapan. One rare slice of film shows men removing clay tiles from a building roof.
When the lava reached the church, Navarro was there to document the destruction. Black lava creeping around the church’s perimeter. Intense heat causing wooden elements to combust. Steady accumulation of cooled volcanic rock against the baroque stone façade, contrasting human craftsmanship with geological force.
Two striking images captures the church’s wooden elements on fire—ornate arched stonework and columns holding the structure up while everything else is consumed. Extending the mystery further, these two images bear exactly the same mark and style of the others, but a different name is entirely obscured. Perhaps it makes sense, Navarro and another photographer would go together. Better than alone.
Foshag and the Official Record
William Frederick Foshag of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum led Parícutin’s scientific research and systematic documentation. A respected mineralogist and curator, Foshag had already spent his career studying volcanic minerals and processes. When Parícutin erupted, he was uniquely positioned to lead the most comprehensive study of a volcano’s complete life cycle.
Foshag arrived within weeks of the initial eruption and remained involved until the volcano’s dormancy in 1952. Working with Mexican geologist Dr. Jenaro González Reyna, he established a research station documenting every phase of development. Their collaboration produced detailed maps, temperature measurements, chemical analyses, and thousands of photographs fundamental to volcanic research today.
Navarro’s church sequence suggests either remarkable intuition, access to local knowledge, or information coming from scientific observers. The Purépecha community, drawing on generations of volcanic experience, provided crucial insights about timing and the landscape. Navarro’s ability to be there for the church’s final moments indicates he was plugged in.
Foshag’s archives reveal an extensive network of colleagues contributing to this documentation. Box 9, Folder 7 bears Navarro’s name alongside numerous other photographers, artists, and local and international contacts. It seems Foshag recognized the value of different perspectives in creating a complete record.
The official scientific documentation benefited from all the independent photography produced at the time. Their paths very likely crossed with many others at work during critical days when the lava and ash threatened San Juan Parangaricutiro.
Kodak in Mexico
The real photo postcard industry supporting photographers like Navarro was sophisticated. Entrepreneurs traveled with complete darkroom setups in automobiles, developing film and producing finished postcards within hours. They sold to tourists, sent copies to newspapers, and maintained distribution networks across Mexico and the United States.
By 1943, Kodak had established a robust business providing both cameras and materials throughout Mexico. Navarro’s postcards bear the EKC (Eastman Kodak Company) indicia and are marked Kodak Mexicana, LTD. Navarro had access to standardized, high-quality photographic paper specifically designed for postcard production. This infrastructure allowed photographers to work with consistent materials as they traveled to remote locations.
This commercial system created a parallel archive to official scientific record, prioritizing dramatic visual impact and human interest. While Foshag documented systematic geological processes, Navarro captured moments resonating with public imagination: the church under siege, displaced communities, civilization meeting unstoppable natural forces.
The quality and consistency in images suggests professional training and equipment. His compositions demonstrate understanding of the landscape and evoke pathos. Combined with his access to Kodak’s professional-grade materials, we may assume Navarro was more than a concerned observer.
History’s Mysteries
Navarro’s fade from historical records reflects broader patterns in how scientific events get remembered. Official histories preserve institutional participants while quietly forgetting the names and stories of independent contributors. This is notable with Parícutin, where local Purépecha knowledge proved crucial to understanding volcanic behavior, yet indigenous voices were largely excluded from formal documentation.
Still, Navarro gives us another chance to go there ourselves for a glimpse of those extraordinary hours. His postcards circulated broadly through the popular means of the era—family correspondence, tourist collections, commercial distributors—and are highly collectible today.
As researchers study Foshag’s extensive archives, Navarro’s name remains a tantalizing fragment—present enough to suggest significance, absent enough to resist interpretation. His postcards survive in collections across North America, carrying their maker’s vision but not his story.
This persistence of mystery tells us something about how we remember extraordinary events. While institutions preserve official records with careful attribution, the broader network of individual contributors often dissolves into anonymity. Navarro represents countless others who showed up when history was being made, pointed cameras at crucial moments, contributed to our understanding of the world, and then vanished back into the crowd.
The photographs of the church’s destruction remain powerful because they capture something beyond ecological process—the moment when human scale met geological time and a community’s sacred center became a monument to forces beyond human control. Navarro was there to see it, and that’s a chance for us to remember the event and to admire him.
This essay was inspired by Elena, Maria, and Sandy – with gratitude.
The Posted Past 