Envelopes from 1937

There is a different address that appears on several envelopes in the fall of 1937, all addressed to my father in Martinsburg, WV.  He would have been just about seventeen at the time.

I am puzzled by the address.  These envelopes were not sent to his mother’s home.  Instead, they carry a different street in Martinsburg, an address that raises more questions.  Was he staying somewhere else for a time?  Boarding?  Or was this simply an address he used to have some mail sent to, a step into some independence of his own?

Envelopes arrive from places like the Cartoonist Exchange, The Tamblyn School of Penmanship, and other programs, none of them traditional colleges, but all offering some kind of direction, some kind of skill, some kind of future.   These are not formal acceptances of structured paths.  They are invitations.  Possibilities.  

They tell me that my father was searching.  He must have reached out in some way, sent a letter, checked a box, expressed an interest, for these organizations to respond.  Somewhere along the line, he was exploring what his life might become.  He was considering options and testing ideas.

The Cartoonist Exchange catches my attention.   Years later, my father would draw sports cartoons for the weekly paper in our hometown.   I can still see some of these drawings.  This is something he really enjoyed.   Seeing his name on that envelope from 1937, connects a thread across time.  It tells me that this interest was already there when he was just a teenager.

These envelopes are still intact, their contents preserved.  What I am seeing is not a decision, but a moment.  A young man, using a different address, received mail that pointed toward possibility.   

I am enjoying the process of getting to know this young man in his earlier chapter of his life, before he became my father.