Kingsport Spirit

A longtime childhood friend was going through a box of her late grandfather’s things and found several linen postcards of scenes from Kingsport in the early 1940s. She generously sent them to me.

Long before text messaging, Twitter, Facebook, Zoom, or FaceTime, postcards were the shortest, simplest way to check-in, say hello, and express feelings to our friends and loved ones. The biggest difference is that it took a couple of days for them to reach the recipient.

The scenes are based on photography but romanticized with artistic filters. The messages are handwritten with the unique style of the sender.

One of the postcards conveyed a message, “Just about settled now. I think we will like it here. I am coming for the errands visit, so will see you then.” It was signed by M. Horsfield (or some variation, since I can’t read the handwriting). It was addressed to Mrs. D. L. Shumaker, 501 Linden St, Roanoke, VA.

I searched old newspapers for a Horsfield (or any variation I could think of) to no avail. The originating address was 1001 Wateree Street, which at various times had rooms advertised for rent in the early 1940s. Maybe the sender was a temporary visitor? I did find references to the Shumakers living in Roanoke.

Was the sender a friend? Relative? We’ll probably never know. But like so many, it is evident the sender was starting a new life in Kingsport with a great sense of optimism and hope for the future in spite of tumultuous times globally.

In the early 1940s, Kingsport was flooded with outsiders who built Holston Army Ammunition Plant in very short order. There were not enough hotels or houses, so citizens were urged to take in strangers. Former Mayor Hunter Wright shared his childhood memories of taking in two scientists who shared his bed while he was required to share a bedroom with his sister. There was one bathroom and his mother worked out a meticulous schedule, so everyone had a turn.

Postcards offer a glimpse of life and a window to the soul of the sender. In a time where everything is digital and stored in ‘the cloud’, I wonder how future generations will find treasures such as this–or if they’re lost forever.

I can’t help but wonder what M. Horsfield would think that I stumbled upon their postcard in 2023. And that it made me think of them, their life, their handwriting, and their memories. That’s humanity–and that’s something that seems to get lost in translation in the digital age.

Here’s hoping that someone finds my musings in the far distant future and contemplates my life, my thoughts, my feelings, and relationships. After all, that’s what makes us human beings.