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the world of paper nostalgia
animals, greetings, comeay. You name it
and Stan Faulhafer probably has it on a
postcard.
And if the card isn't paper it could be
leather or silk. It could be decorated with
embroidery, metal, ostrich feathers, or
embossed letters. Or it could be a
see-through card which, when held
skyward, appears to have light glowing
from the windows of buildings.
Postcards have always been convenient
message carriers, and with one -cent
postage (the going rate for most of his
collection) they were a steal of a deal.
Old postcards usually carry old mess-
ages. Stan has some that have conveyed
marriage proposals, birth announcements
and moves in a chess match. Most of
them, however, say things like. "The
weather is fine." "Gus has been sick," or
"How's Annie?"
Most of Stan's cards have come in bulk
purchases. He runs newspaper ads
periodically and the housecleaning public
responds.
"I buy them by the box or by the
album," he says. "My biggest purchase
was about 1,000."
Then they are categorized in any
number of ways and filed in a corner set of
drawers.
A member of the Toronto Postcard
Club, Stan keeps tabs on what's hap-
pening in the world of paper nostalgia.
Now a collector, his aim is to become .a
trader. That means deciding on an area (or
two) of specific interest.
"There are guys who just collect railway
stations. or horses, or disasters," he says.
"There are so many different kinds I'll
probably get into six or seven subjects and
then start trading. I've given some away
but I've never sold or traded any."
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VILLAGE SQUIRE/OCTOBER 1981 PG. 5