Blog 8: Folding Zine Pages and old Letters to the Editor of the Sun

Zine, Production Run 2

I spent some time Tuesday working on the second run of the zine – 20 copies this time.   Dr. King and Markele had figured out the hard part last week, so all I had to do was fold.  Markele did most of the work – trimming, collating, and stapling pages.  It looks even better than last time.  I suspect we will quickly run out.

Looking for material for the second zine

When I got home, I went through the historical Baltimore Sun to see if I could find anything interesting in the Letters to the Editor.  Some were fun – mainly because the older ones are a lot more colorful than anything that makes it into print these days.  My favorite was a man named George Haulenbeek who had 9 letters published between 1914 and 1919.   His biggest year was 1915 when he had three.  In the second, he railed against a Lexington Market vendor who had sold him a box of strawberries in which bad berries were hidden under good ones.  He ends by saying:

The man who sold me those berries, I verily believe, knew their condition absolutely.  He had placed the top layer there with his own hands, and I feel satisfied that unless repentance follow I shall not have the pleasure of meeting him in Heaven.

His next letter, headlined “Mr. Haulenbeek Has Another Fit,” complained that vendors in the market referred to asparagus as “grass” even after he remonstrated with them.  The next week the Sun published this response signed by “Seventeenth Century.”

My dear young (?) Mr Haulenbeek!

Please try to keep your ire in check

When through the markets you do pass

And hear the dealers calling “Grass.”

Just hie you quick to learning’s ways

The Standard Dictionary says:

Asparagus and sparrow-grass

Were once the old “garden sass.”

But, in a more serious vein, the changing status of the market is reflected in both the frequency and the content of letters to the editor mentioning Lexington Market.  In the first three decades of the twentieth century, there were frequent letters, peaking with 43 in 1910-1919.  Some boasted about what a wonderful place Lexington Market was including one that describes it as the fifth of the seven wonders of Baltimore.  But most presented strongly held views on serious market issues – should stalls be owned with the right to lease them out; should the city get the benefit of increasing leases; should the market be rebuilt; how could the sanitation be improved; should the outside stalls be removed so that traffic could move on Eutaw and Paca Streets; what should the parking regulations be.   In mid-century, as the market became smaller and less well-used, letters refer to Lexington Market as a place to take visitors or a fond memory.  Clearly, the community is less involved in day to day debates than they previously.   In the 1970s and 1980s, the number of letters increases to 14 and 16 respectively.  Many of them talk about downtown revitalization and later the west-side redevelopment plan.  Lexington Market is part of the larger problem, but does not reflect the level of individual involvement shown in the earlier letters.