Hubert Stranathan and Grace Mason Burlingame, Jan. 14, 1923. My father was born 10 months later, followed by Uncle Bob. Alas, Grace died when my father was in his teens, and Hubert married her sister Mildred, and later there was a 1945 divorce caused by, apparently, the new wife becoming a Christian Scientist. Grandpa Hubert married Grandma Helen in 1949, who birthed Aunt Ann Lea thereafter.
Whew. Mostly, I’m struck here by how much Grandpa Hubert, as a young man, resembles my father.

Also from the scrapbook, here’s a story featuring my mother that appeared in a Seattle paper on Sept. 28, 1950. Scottie lived a good long life, finally going west at age 19.

Mrs. William G. Burlingame of 8239 42nd Av. N. E. always knew her platinum Cocker Spaniel Scottie was a smart dog — no animal without unusual intelligence could get into as much mischief as Scottie, she told herself.
But until this week Mrs. Burlingame didn’t know that Scottie, bright as he is, could write. Of course, Scottie never had been lost 2,000 miles from home before, either.
The 18-month-old pet escaped from his crate in a baggage car in which Mrs. Burlingame was bringing him back from a visit to her former home in Zanesville, Ohio. When the train arrived in Chicago, Scottie was gone. The baggage man didn’t know where he’d gone, but one slat in the crate was broken.
After asking railroad officials to search for the cocker, Burlingame continued her trip home, sorrowfully convinced she never would learn what had happened to Scottie.
To Mrs. Burlingame’s surprise, she received a letter Tuesday from Logansport, Ind., written by Scottie without too obvious assistance from Mrs. George Banta, a Logansport housewife.
The letter read:
“Dear Folks: Are you surprised to hear from me? I am visiting at the Banta farm six miles west of Logansport … I arrived here shortly after noon Sunday, and was met by the Bantas’ Collie pup …”
The long letter went on to tell how well Scottie is being fed, how he was enjoying daily romps with the collie and was chasing the Banta cats for exercise. It was signed “Lovingly yours, Scottie.”
A postscript added “Maybe you should write to Mrs. George Banta, R.R. 6 Logansport, because I am not too well known around here.”
“I just couldn’t believe I’d ever hear from him again,” said Mrs. Burlingame. “I’m certainly glad had our name and address on his identification tag.”
A telephone call assured Mrs. Burlingame the dog is in good condition. Now Scottie will be starting for home again in a few days — in a stronger crate.

One of the joys — and drawbacks — of knowing someone forever is they have embarrassing photos of you. Katharine found me doing the Junior Journalist thing at some point in the 1970s. I have absolutely no memory of this. I suspect it’s when I was editor of the Leeward Community College newspaper. No, I didn’t wear bowties. That’s Brad’s job.

So what’s going on here?

Now this was flying. The early aviators of the 11th Photo Section saw angles of Hawaii no one had ever seen before. Here are a couple of DH-4Ms over Oahu, but I’m not sure where. I’m guessing the artificial lake below is the beginnings of Lake Wilson near Wahiawa …

From the Burl Burlingame AirChive, a bevy of Imperial Japanese Army officers motoring about conquered China in a lovely touring car. Can anyone identify the make? Click on the above image to expand.

If you’ve lived in Hawaii any time at all, you’ve seen the young lass at left. There are a series of postcards that have featured her smiling face and cheerful toplessness that have been on sale forever. I remember seeing them in Waikiki in the mid-’60s. I’ve since discovered that these images were quite popular during World War II as souvenirs, so the images must have been made about that time.
Who is she? She’s awfully cute and approachable, which is why these images have lasted all this time. And she’s clearly a brown-skinned Pacific islander, which, during the ’40s, puts her in National Geographic territory. If she’s still around she must be someone’s grandmother or great-grandmother by now. I have the feeling that, no matter how many hundreds of thousands of postcards and souvenir photos were sold, she never made a dime off of them. The print at left is an original from the 1940s, and it’s already littered with dust specks and scratches, signs that the negatives were hard at work, cranking out copies for GIs to hoard and take back to Peoria.
The image of the dusky hula maiden as a marketing tool probably sold the islands as much, or more, than any other iconic image. Have things changed?

It’s the early ’80s. Star-Bulletin cartoonist Corky Trinidad became a US citizen and we whipped up a party in the newsroom. The snapshot has that Polycontrast IV RC look to it favored by photogs of the era. In the background, that’s myself and editor John Simonds, while Reggie Choy, legendary backshop Xacto-wielder, admires Corky’s cake. Click on image for a larger version, like anyone would want to do that.