Posts Tagged ‘Automobiles’

Henry Ford’s Model T

October 1, 2012

Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Mar 4, 1911

The Model T – Introduced by Henry Ford in the fall of 1908


Indianapolis Star (Indianapolis, Indiana) Apr 23, 1911

Atlanta Constitution (Atlanta, Georgia) Apr 28, 1911

Technology Brings the Laughs

September 19, 2012

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What a Marvelous Age, My Dear!

Coshocton Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) Sep 8, 1929

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My Gracious! Some People Think They Own All Creation!

Coshocton Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) Sep 11, 1929

Great Scott! What Was That?

Coshocton Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) Sep 23, 1929

That Old Car Of Mine

March 30, 2012

Image from Classic Cars .Net

That Old Car Of Mine

By Oliver Rutter

There’s a whiz and a bang to my fitful old car
when I finally decide to ride,
As it is there’s a pang of best judgment by far
That I really should run and hide,
Though I tug at the levers and turn on the gas —
And think I can drive it like a consummate ass,
Yet the people all crowd in a clamoring mass
And police and the dogs even bark as I pass.
I buy wires, I buy tires, I buy patches galore,
‘Till the old roll wakes up with a scar,
How it ires, how it tires when the old garage door
Won’t admit all I buy that old car.
what with jacks and batteries and varnish and paint
To make it look decent, though my wife says it ain’t,
While the cost of adjustments and lights make me faint —
Oh I love your old car, but you sure tempt a saint.

With a wheeze and a sneeze it will come to a stop
In the middle of a railroad track.
Though I squeeze all I please the old engine to flop,
I must get out and push with my back,
And when flagging the passers they give me the laugh,
While I swear and I cry like a blubbering calf,
‘Till a tire blows up an this giving the gaff
Should end my sad story, but its not even half.

With a sniff and a snuff I start out for a phone
To call wreckers, or something like that.
What’s the dif, its enough to make a nanny moan
To be in a condition like that.
Now there are cars many and of more noble bore
That may be prettier and not cost any more,
Dear old car I love you with a love to the core
And when I am rested I will come back for more.
Now its done I must run up the mountain on high,
Just to see if ti’s going to last.
If the son of a gun will keep going I’ll try
To forget I have ever been gassed.
By the cling of the bug I believed was a car
So endeared to my soul by a bruise or a scar
And while I am doubtful, I won’t miss very far
In guessing I’ll finally be brought to the bar.

Morning Herald (Uniontown, Pennsylvania) Apr 4, 1935

On the Road and Off the Map

June 17, 2011

Image from FotoSupples on flickr



Vacation days are here. Perhaps the poem by Berton Braley which follows will help in determining which way to turn.

Off the Road Map

Let’s turn off the wide roads,
Made straight with cement,
And try the shy side-roads
That follow their bent,
That saunter and amble
As rivulets flow;
Let’s try them and ramble
Where ever they go.

We may find a bog-land
Dim, dismal, and black,
A skeeter and frog land —
Well, we can turn back.
But if we discover
Wood, pasture and stream,
Where butterflies hover
And dragonflies gleam,

We’ll gain beyond question,
A blessed release
From traffic congestion
And motor-police,
And, drifting at leisure,
With time for  a glance,
We may find some pleasure
In nature perchance.

Let’s leave the well-girt roads
(With “Hot Dogs” and signs)
And venture the dirt roads
That stroll through the pines —
The roads that lead nowhere
(Or nowhere we know);
Let’s gamble and go where
The little roads go.

Ironwood Daily Globe (Ironwood, Michigan) AUG 14, 1933


“I love a road of romance,
That speaks of mighty men,
A road that leads me somewhere
And then back home again.

There’s beauty in tis windings,
There’s music in its song,
And to its steady rhythm
My heart beats true and strong.

It drops into the valley,
Then climbs toward the dawn,
It never stops nor falters,
But travels ever on.

It tells me tales of freedom,
Of meadows wide and sweet,
Where summer winds are whispering
Across the golden wheat.

And then I hear of battle,
Of wind and rain and snow;
Of slides upon the mountain
And floods far down below.

But oh my road is fearless,
Though times be good or ill
Like mankind’s valiant leaders,
Its course is onward still.

I love a road of romance,
That speaks of dauntless men,
A road that leads me somewhere
And then back home again.”

Ironwood Daily Globe (Ironwood, Michigan) Aug 15, 1933

Image from the Adirondack View blog

This poem was written in 1853 by Richard Kendall Munkittrick. B.C.N.

A Country Road

Yellow with dust it sleeps in noonday’s glare,
Yellow with dust it stretches far away;
On the mossed wall will the chipmunks frisk and play,
Where golden daisies broider all the air,
Now nature seems to dream ‘mid fragrance rare,
For summer silence holds unbroken sway,
Till round the bend a creaking wain of hay
Comes lumbering down the drowsy thoroughfare;
Then all is still again. The orchard trees
Are motionless as the distant purple hills
On which the shadows of the white clouds rest,
When suddenly the white-flecked clover seas
All joyous tremble, while bobolink trills
His wildest melodies with sweet unrest.
This the kind of a road to be found “off a road map.”

Ironwood Daily Globe (Ironwood, Michigan) Aug 15, 1933