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Okay, I found this rag tag, dirty, part-of-it-missing, I was almost-afraid-to-touch-it, book at a flea market recently. I was hesitant because of the grime, but the 25 cent price tag lured me into looking at it. Then the first page (actually the fourth page, because the first part of the book is missing) grabbed my attention. Its title, "How To Cook A Husband," made the book too juicy to pass up. The entire effort is a cookbook, no doubt a twentieth century fund-raising attempt. Although I do not know the date of this particular book, I ran the text of "How To Cook Your Husband," on a search engine. No luck with any author, but it dates back to at least 1895, so I am safe in reproducing it here. If any "Dear reader" happens to have more information about it, please feel free to share. Pat Earnest 11 June 2015

                                                           How To Cook a Husband

    A good many husbands are utterly spoiled by mismanagement. Some women go about it as if their husbands were balloons. But blow them up. Others keep them constantly in hot water, others let them freeze by indifference and carelessness. Some keep them in a pickle all their lives. Some keep them in a stew by irritating ways and words. Others roast them. It cannot be supposed that any husband will be tender and good if managed in this way, but they are really delicious when properly treated.

     In selecting a husband, do not go to market for him, as the best are always brought to your door. It is far better to have none, unless you patiently learn how to govern him. See that the linen in which you wrap him is properly washed and mended with the required number of buttons and strings tightly sewed on. 

     Tie him in the kettle by a silk cord called "Comfort", as the one called "Duty" is apt to be too weak. They are apt to fall out of the kettle and to be burned and crusty on the edges, since, like crab and lobsters you have to cook them while alive.

     If he sputters and fusses, do not be anxious -- some husbands do this until they are cooled down. Add a little sugar in the form of which confectioners call "Kisses" but no vinegar or pepper on any account. A little spice improves them, but it must be used with judgement. 

     Do not stick any sharp instruments into him to see if he is becoming tender. Stir him gently, watching awile [sic], less he adhere to the kettle and so become useless. You cannot fail to know when he is done.

     If this treatment is closely followed you will find him all that is desireable, but do not keep him in a too cool a place. The end.

Author Pat Earnest, currently lives in Dover, Delaware, with family, both two- and four-footed. I am a published author and history enthusiast, who has great regard for the past and is especially proud of the Pennsylvania German culture. In addition to Passed Time, I am currently working on a project for the German Historical Institutes Immigrant Entrepreneurship: German-American Business Biographies (http://www.ghi-dc.org). I also contribute to various newsletters and I am working on another book...or two. Feel free to email me at pcsuter@passedtime.com for questions, comments, information, a shared love of history, an idea, or just because you want to share on Passed Time, but are too shy about getting started. Be aware, Files with Attachments will not be opened, but immediately deleted. 

I found some computer video games that I remember playing while growing up.

http://gamesnostalgia.com/en/

Jersey City Man Finds Vintage Baseball Card Collection Hidden In Wall « CBS New York

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/video/11527789-jersey-city-man-finds-vintage-baseball-card-collection-hidden-in-wall/

The first autograph, beyond the one on the inner cover, is dated Jan 6, 1936. It reads, 

   For Dear Alice,

                      Lots of love and losts of Kisses

                       Sometimes change girls name 

                                        to 

                                         Mrs.

                                                                                 Eloise Rehburg

A pencil notation, undoubtedly made by Alice reads, (Moved to Virginia in 1936) with "summer" added and then struck through. 

One of the joys not shared by many American families, is knowing where your Revolutionary War ancestor lived. Not just where, but the actual house in which he lived. We know exactly where in Hummelstown, Pennsylvania, our ancestral home could be found for it sat in the same place for well over 200 years. So when relatives fom Texas came to visit, what better place to go than show them the very house where our common ancestor lived?

     As we pulled up in front of the house we knew immediately something was out of whack. The house was gone! Naturally, we looked up and down the street. No house! Everything along the streeet was where we saw it following our last visit, except now, where the yellow house once stood, there was open space.

     Sad, mad, empty, is how we now feel. Turns out the house was destroyed in a flood two years ago. The only piece of good news regarding this story is that we took photographs of he house a few years ago. We guess pictures are better than nothing. But we cannot help but wonder what family treasures, especially letters and deeds, or other memorabilia, may have been stored in the attic or even between the walls and are now lost forever. At least we got to treasure the house before Mother Nature took it back.  

     The last year of WWII, I turned seven. Being raised east of San Diego, while the war was raging in the Pacific, exposed me to sights probably not all kids my age experienced. Here are a few of them.

     All survivors from that period probably remember ration books and that most families took their grease to the butcher shop where, someplace else, it was rendered into soap. All cans were saved for recycling, and gasoline and tires were rationed so there were not near as many unnecessary trips as people take today. The preceding was probably the norm across the country.

     Being near San Diego with its shipyards and aircraft factories, resulted in virtually miles of camouglage netting. I can remember this well because of the square shadows dancing on the ground when the wind blew. We had blackout curtains in the house and periodically there were blackout exercises. Local wardens backed by deputy sheriffs enforced the blackout restrictions. 

     All day long the sky was filled with silver aircraft, the aluminum shining bright in the sun. The planes had not yet received the coats of paint they would receive before entering the war zone. San Diego was not just a staging area for aircraft. There was a bivouac area down the road where we lived. After dark, tanks, half-tracks, ducks and trucks, in seemingly endless numbers, were driven into San Diego or loaded on lowboys for transport ship-side at the docks. The paved road in front of our little house was reduced to sand and dust by the grinding of treads. And the house shook every time a column rumbled past. One group of marines, a mechanized force, took our family dog when they left. But they had my parents permission. There are other memories, some not pleasant, that I might share in the future.   ThesauRuss

     There are countless books about the Washingtons, the Arnolds, the Roosevelts, and the Eisenhowers, and countless books recounting wars or events that have shaped our countries and our world. These histories, records, biographies, and autobiographies, are important and all have their place. The accomplishments of the greats who passed before should not be forgotten and they act as solid "anchors"  with which to weave a familiar historical narrative.

     When explaining the importance of history to others, many draw upon Santayana's oft-repeated quote, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." I actually prefer Twain's "Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick with possibilites, Truth isn't." No fiction writer can out-imagine events that have taken place in the history of mankind. No matter which slant towards history you embrace, there is one truth that is absolute. The great men and women, those that history remembers kindly and those that leave a blighted footprint, did not do it alone. Even if an abrupt and loud "Eureka!" moment is claimed by an individual, they either built on the efforts of others, had someone behind them, or someone chronicling their moment. Unfortunately, many of these softer voices have faded with time.

     In 1996, a poet by the name of Linda Ellis wrote a poem entitled "The Dash." The inspirational poem encourages people to make the "dash" between their birth and death dates count for something. At the book and paper shows I attend, I often talk to friends and vendors who share their love of history and nostalgia, often brought to life by the items we sell or collect. It occured to me that many voices were never able to share their dashes, this in spite of having wonderful stories to divulge. It was then that Passed Time began to take shape. I was lucky enough to know a computer genius who, along with his wife, also share a love of history. We kicked around the idea of creating a place similar to Facebook, but with more focus. A place where those with the love of the past, could all come and share photographs, diaries, stories, letters, memories, and snippets of nostalgia. 

      "In Their Own Words", my blog on Passed Time, is intended to be used as my platform to let the softer voices have a say. Like us they had hopes and dreams, some fulfilled and some not. They had their triumphs and tragedies. Sometimes, all that is left of someone is one letter. Often, however, journals, diaries, and autograph books exhibit insight into earlier lives. At other times there is only a birth and death date, and the dash is just a dash. For those, hopefully, another Passed Time user can provide their own insight. One of the amusing categories of nostalgia are photographs. Unidentified photographs are abundant, and honestly, they drive me crazy. One enterprising vendor at book shows offers unidentified photographs as "instant relatives." Perhaps, Passed Time can share some of these photos and maybe a lucky connection will be made.

     In general terms, Passed Time is available to all with a historical and nostalgiac interest. Undoubtedly, it will appeal to those possessing a melancholoy demeanor. Hopefully, friendships will arise as we all share fellowship in this love of history. Veterans are strongly encouraged to share their stories, especially given the aging population of WWII, Korean, and Vietnam vets. Women are too often the softer voices that are never heard. In fact, the birth and death dates that are often only dates, usually belong to women. Your story is also valuable. For others who want to share their entire family's story, Passed Time can serve as that platform. 

     I often hear from people that their children and their grandchildren do not care about their family history. Maybe. Maybe not right now. Keep in mind, interests do change. We had friends who sold their father's collection of a specific type of artwork. As they aged, they realized they had actually sold a part of their father. They are now trying to re-aquire the collection, but as it was sold piecemeal, I am afraid their efforts will come to naught. We have other friends whose children did not care about the family history, but there was a niece who was interested in the family's story. You never know how subsequent generations might think. Recently, the flea markets and book and paper fairs have been drawing a younger crowd. Yeah!

     Specifically to "In Their Own Words,"  I will examine items that friends have been kind enough to let me use for this endeavor. Historical societies also go out of their way to share and I will give credit when due. I am eclectic in terms of my interests, even though I tend towards Pennsylvania German history. Many items are charming, some are historically significant, some poignant, all are from the past. 

     When an artifact is transcribed, as opposed to being photographed, know that I will not change the tone or content to suit or benefit any historical context or belief. Their words were their words. Authors or chroniclers should insert themselves as little as possible in order to convey historical accuracy. This is not about us, but about the them. Also know, any transcriptions will reflect the punctuation, grammar, spelling, capitalization, vernacular, etc. used on the document. It will not be changed to reflect modern sympathies. This is in no way, shape, or form, meant to bully or mock anyone, rather it is a humble attempt to remain true and accurate to history.  I hold the personal belief that it demeans our ancestors' journeys when we attempt to nullify unpleasant aspects or attempt to change their journeys to fit some pre-conceived notion. Right or wrong, our forebears were products of their times and I will hold to that firmly in this blog.

     Although, Twain's "Truth is stranger..." quote applies to much of history, I am going to end with Santanyana. The essence of "Those who forget the passed..." is somewhat lost when the context in which it was placed is removed. Santayana's full quote reads, "Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. In the first stage of life the mind is frivolous and easily distracted, it misses progress by failing in consecutiveness and persistence. This is the condition of children and barbarians, in which instinct has learned nothing from experience."

                                                                                  Maybe here at Passed Time, we can all gain that experience together. Pat Earnest 28 May 2015

While researching Matthias Hoffman (died 1838?) of Washington County, Maryland, I came across the following entries regarding land purchases of a man named John Hoover in Taneytown. Hoover seemed to buy up everything he could. The names of the tracts he purchased were interesting. They included parts of "Sarah's Delight, Harry's Grove (or grave), Nicholas' Mistake, Shockey's Mistake, Help to Hall's Sale, Darling's Dale, Bald Hill, Rocky Hill, Cost More Than It's Worth, and Worth Little." His home place was called "Necessity."   For those interested, I found this in Matthias & Mary (Hoover) Hoffman of "Necessity" and Their Descendants, compiled by Jacob A. Hoffman.  

                                                                                                                                                              .

The following words of wisdom come from an early bookplate. They give instructions as to how to go about borrowing books. Books were highly treasured for they were expensive and often difficult to come by in early America. As always, it is transcribed verbatim, including capitalization/punctuation/grammatical novelties. It reads: "If thou art borrowed by a friend, Right welcome shall he be, To read, to study--not to lend-- But to return to me. Not that impartial knowledge doth Diminish learning's store, But Books, I find, if often lent, Return to me no more. Read slowly, pause Frequently, think seriously, keep cleanly, return duly, with the corners of the leaves not turned down. Baltimore, 9th month, 1830. Joseph Townsend."