How to Do a Birth Announcement

The Steinhoff Family tends to make a big production out of everything, which should have been evident from the Christmas photos I posted.

I was looking in my closet and found the baby scrapbook my parents had put together. There’s a treasure trove of stuff in it that I had long forgotten.

When it came time to announce my impending arrival, my folks presented maternal grandmother-to-be,  Elsie Welch, a series of nine envelopes, ending with the one at the top of the page.

Operating on “ish” time

There was one slight error. They were predicting that I would arrive on April 17, which would have been Dad’s birthday. You note that they said, “on or about.” Even before I was born, I was operating on “ish” time. And, for the first – and probably only – time in my life, I showed up early to an event. I was born on March 24, not April 17.

Photo gallery of the Nine Envelopes

Click on any image to make it large enough to read, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery. (By the way, they didn’t have spell checkers in those days.) Also, by the way, Son Adam and Carly are expecting their first child, and our second grandchild, in February-ish.

Congratulations Larry Schirmann

For once I know who is in this 1966 grip ‘n’ grin photo: Larry Schirmann. What I don’t know is when it was taken, who the guy on the left is, where it was taken and what we’re congratulating Larry for.

Larry took 1st place over other university speakers

An enlargement of the sign says that Larry was “our representative” and that he “Won 1st prize in stiff competion with speakers from Missouri Univ. (Columbia); Missouri Univ. (St. Louis); Washington Univ; St. Louis Univ.; Southern Illinois Univ. and Westminster College (Fulton).”

Third Floor Academic Hall?

A slightly wider angle might provide some clues. They’re standing in front of Room 315. We’re informed that it’s the Department of …. but it doesn’t say which department. The high ceilings and dark wood framing makes me think it might have been in Academic Hall, particularly with all of the university references.

Anyway, congratulations, Larry. You look like a guy with a firm handshake.

Driving on Ice Crash Course

I was cruising around on a snowy December day in 1966 when I learned that studded snow tires will help you get GOING, but aren’t all that great at stopping.

Jim Stone, Carol Klarsfeld and I were creeping down a steep hall off Bertling when I came around a curve to find a car skidded out and sideways on my side of the road. I put on my brakes, but the same ice that kept him from going UP the hill kept me from stopping going DOWN the hill.

You can’t hurt a 59 Buick LaSabre

My car caught his left rear door and left rear quarter panel, crunching sheet metal and peeling paint. The damage to my 1959 Buick LaSabre station wagon was so insignificant that I didn’t even shoot a photo of it.

It was certainly less a dent than I got on my first driving lesson with Ernie Chiles.

First on the scene

Considering how many miles I drove a year under all kinds of condition, I was pretty lucky (knock wood) never to have been involved in a serious crash. I DID have a few fender benders, though.

I was cruising on a twisty road in Southern Ohio when a farm tractor pulling a trailer full of kids pulled out of a lane in front of me. I opted to steer into a ditch to keep from hitting the tractor. Damage was minimal, but I reported the crash anyway.

The trooper who pulled up recognized me and said, “I bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever been to the scene of an accident.”

How to deal with insurance companies

Not long after that, I was following a bus that was coming into a small Ohio town. The bus stopped. I stopped. The guy behind me DIDN’T stop. He was cited. He had insurance with Grange Insurance, which took its sweet time settling with me.

I was hanging out at the highway patrol HQ trading gossip and complaining about getting jerked around when one of the troopers gave me some advice: “Call the agent and tell him that it’s a good thing it’s taking so long for them to get you a check. You’ve noticed some pains in your neck and back that didn’t start hurting right away. If it doesn’t stop hurting by tomorrow, you’ll go to the doctor to get checked out.”

Insurance adjuster tracked me down

I did as he said. That night, I was covering a high school football game in Logan, OH, where this photo was taken. At half time, a guy walked up to me and asked if I was Ken Steinhoff. I said I was.

It was the insurance agent from Grange. He wanted to know if we could go to my car to get out of the rain. When we got to it, I asked if he would like me to get a flashlight so he could inspect the damage to my vehicle.

“No, I just wanted to get out of the rain so I could write you a check if you think the amount is reasonable.” It was more than reasonable. My aches and pains went away immediately.

Gas Prices and Atomic Bombs

It’s amazing how readers can come up with the strangest permutations of story ideas. Yesterday I wrote about how a big tire went bouncing down Broadway in 1965, wreaking havoc (OK, breaking a window and denting a car).

Among the photos I posted was Pete Koch’s Sinclair Station. Read the comments on yesterday’s posting to see what it’s being used for today. (You might have to press CTRL-F5 to bring up the latest ones when you get there.)

Cape gasoline prices

A comment I made that I thought gas would have been about 36 cents a gallon in that era prompted Spokesrider to say that sounded high from his perspective in Michigan. I still think 36 cents was right, except for the occasional price war kicked off by Thoni’s.

Bro Mark sent  me this photo of his living room wall, along with this note: “Saw your piece this morning. I bought these paper gas price signs in Cape and framed them a long time ago. Ah, the good old days of cheap gas and polio and cold war threats…I’ll take the high price of gas today, thank you.”

Snow ice cream and strontium 90

All the news about making snow ice cream and Mark’s comments about Cold War threats must have been in the back of my mind when I picked up The Week magazine and saw an obituary for Dr. Louise Reiss. If you are of an age to remember Duck and Cover, your parents may have sent your baby teeth off to Dr. Reiss.

The St. Louis doctor had hit on the idea of testing children’s baby teeth for strontium 90, a radioactive byproduct of atomic bombs that were being detonated in the atmosphere. Her analysis of 320,000 teeth showed that children born in St. Louis in 1963 had 50 times as much strontium 90 in their teeth as children born in 1950.

Her findings were largely responsible for the U.S., Britain and the Soviet Union agreeing to a partial ban on testing atomic weapons in the atmosphere.

That’s why you’re safer eating snow ice cream today than when we were kids. (You still want to avoid yellow snow.)