Top, Amelia Earhart signature on an envelope flown from Cleveland to Detroit in 1929. Middle, a signature by Paul Tibbets, on a envelope telling about the atomic bomb, stamped the same day the bomb was dropped. Bottom, a postcard from Bill Snyder's collection of an old view of the Codorus Creek in York.
I've never been an autograph hound. It never made any sense to me to pay big bucks or wait in line to have a celebrity sign his name on a piece of paper (unless it was a check). Athletes? Certainly not. Actors? Not hardly. Politicians? You're kidding.
But Friday, I felt I jumped headfirst into a history book, simply by holding an autographed envelope. The York County Stamp Show continues today at the York Expo Center's Horticulture Hall, and if you want to feel proud or patriotic or historic, this might be the ticket.
Assigned to cover the event, I was shuffling through some envelopes, stamps and other rather mundane collector material. Douglas S. Weisz of McMurray, Pa., must have noticed my glazed look and asked if he could show me something. "Please," I pleaded, "Show me something cool, something exciting." Weisz, the "man in the hat", asked about my interests.
He said that in five minutes, he could find something in his collection that would intrigue and fascinate anyone.
Weisz went into action.
From under his protective glass, he pulled envelopes. One was signed by Amelia Earhart, the first woman to receive the U.S. Distinguished Flying Cross and the first woman to fly across the Atlantic, and was later lost over the Pacific.
Another was signed by pilot Paul Tibbets,whose B-29 dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, beginning the end of World War II.
A third was signed by Charles Lindbergh, who flew the first solo flight across the Atlantic.
These were people who changed the world, who did something more important-- more necessary-- than hitting a ball with a stick or throwing a ball 60 yards.
History was in my hand. I felt like a little kid on Santa's lap. Suddenly this stamp show was more than a bunch of old papers being protected by a crowd of white-haired old philatelists. It had become a treasure hunt.
Stopped to see York's Bill Snyder and his large collection of 'stuff'. Among his things were old postcards of York, Lancaster, Philadelphia, all of Pennsylvania, the U.S. and the world. Advertisements. Paintings. Birthday cards. This was becoming very interesting, indeed.
OK, I stayed longer than necessary, and photographing a quiet, static stamp show isn't the most exciting assignment on the schedule. But as I grazed through Snyder's postcards, I began to understand the mystique of stamp collecting.
It was -- dare I say-- cool. Just a step away from awesome.
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