region and NOT become interested in the Civil War, because
Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia have so many battlefields
reverently preserved by the National Park Service.
One year, in March, I was driving back from Indiana on one of the
very few times in my whole life that I had to take a long drive by
myself. For some reason, on the way back home, I took the
turnoff to see Antietam, the site of what the South called the
Battle of Sharpsburg, the bloodiest single day in American
history.
This turned out to be one of the most moving experiences I've
ever had in a historical setting. The park was virtually empty,
which is rare indeed. There was something eerie in the way the
wind was blowing, in the sounds of the air, in the terrain itself--
which in 1853 had seemed to commanders it would provide fine
cover for infantrymen. The rail and stone fences, outcroppings
of limestone, and many hollows and swales remain as they were
in 1863. I walked and drove the battlefield for about two hours.
At Bloody Lane, the Cornfield, at Burnside Bridge, and perhaps
most of all at the Dunker Church--please don't think I'm loopy--
most certainly I could feel the presence of spirits, of the people
who fought and fell there. Not only the soldiers, but the people
of the town and surrounding farms of Sharpsburg, whose lives
were turned upside down.
Well, that experience at Antietam led to a lifelong interest in
the Civil War. My later trip to Gettysburg was not as dramatic,
but reading about those three days--especially in Michael
Shaara's Pulitzer Prize winning book, The Killer Angels--served to
deepen my interest. There are two figures who fascinate me
from that dramatic period in American history. One is Clara
Barton, whose courage and determination to help wounded
soldiers no matter the personal cost is a complex and stirring
tale. The other figure is Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, whose
quick thinking and bravery as commander at the Battle of Little
Round Top (Gettysburg) contributed to the coming Union victory.
He commanded, and was wounded in, several other battles; he
was made a brigadier general and brevet major general. For his
actions at Little Round Top, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain
received the Medal of Honor. At the end of the war, he was given
the honor of commanding the Union troops at the surrender
ceremony for the infantry of Lee's Army at Appomattox.
Chamberlain returned to his home state, Maine, where he had
been a professor at Bowdoin College, and became president of
the college and also governor of the state. I expressed interest
in this card somewhere in blogland, and dayf was kind enough to
put one aside for me. It's one of my favorite nonsports cards
now. Is there any deft way to tie in this Joshua Chamberlain
Topps card with baseball cards?
Yes. From 1860-1866, the idea for baseball cards was planted in
the American brain in the form of "cardomania" as people
collected cartes de visite, a small paper photographic print
mounted on a commercially produced card.
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inches. The carte de visite is not considered a particularly rare
item today because millions were produced in the 19th century.
In the day, people collected cards of prominent contemporary
figures.
as many cards as possible in their areas of interest. The albums
and cards became enormously popular and were traded among
friends and visitors.
fixture in Victorian parlors.
in the parlor?
But wait, I have digressed. The point is that the Cardboard
Junkie sent us a number of wonderful cards. (We have a packet
for him too, and it will get mailed any minute now, no doubt.)
Do you like how the drawing on the back is reminiscent of the
one on the front?
dayf is a gentleman blogger who doesn't revel in the brilliance of
his own writing (although he could, because he runs the most
entertaining baseball card blog in the history of the world) but
notices what other people say in their blogs...for instance, he
remembered our passing reference when we decided to collect
1956 NY Giants Topps cards. (We like 1956 Topps and have deep
family ties with the NY Giants. Related to those facts, here are
our 1956 Topps dream and our Polo Grounds posts.) And cardville
is all kind of six degrees related, because dayf's favorite baseball
card is a 1956 Topps Hank Aaron. We don't own that one. But he
does.
Aren't these kind of beautiful? The backs of 1956 Topps cards are
breathtaking. Unstinting detail, extreme graphics...would Topps
pay anyone nowadays to draw detailed narratives such as these?
No. Of course not. This isn't computer art, peeps. This is the
effort of someone hunched over a table. This is a labor of love:
The fronts aren't bad either:
were articulate enough to name it.
Here's the back of one:
is batting right before he climbs the beanstalk:
Two Davids that made you know who very happy! (The Goodwin
right before he cleans someone's clock:
not HIS clock that gets cleaned by Mr. Ryan. We like the Goodwin
Champions. A noble effort. And dayf, who is an expert on vintage
cards, also included a vintagey Curtis Granderson, making for a
perfect effect:
ethic depicted on a classic style card. That works for us. Thank
you, dayf, for adding cards to our Favorites of All Time
collection.
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