Connect with us

Mark Kissling

125-Year-Old Sign Industry Feud

A sarcastic reader-editor exchange from Signs of the Times, January 1906.

mm

Published

on

A GREAT MANY THINGS have obviously changed in the sign industry since 125 years ago — heck, even in the last 25 years alone. You’re probably well aware of the latest tech including AI, but what about other aspects of the sign industry, particularly farther into the past? You may not know that the way the industry was covered, who wrote the articles, the audience they were for and especially the style of magazine content were markedly different.

I refer in particular to the sarcasm on the part of my forerunner, H.C. Menefee, the first editor of Signs of the Times. As happens to this day, a reader who’d been the subject of a mention felt that mention had included an error and sent a letter — a rather long one — to the editor, asking to be “set … right with the advertising world.”

These days, if we had been in error, we’d run a short “Correction” — often still referred to in other publications as an “Erratum” — on our Inbox page. Perhaps a sentence or two, we’d accept responsibility and leave it at that. Not so in 1909.

Following is an excerpt from Signs of the Times, January 1909, page 12. The verbal joust between Menefee and S.O. Lindeman, who’d sent the letter to the editor, follows here. It’s important to know that not long after the toy Teddy Bear was originally introduced, the brand was applied to consumer bread, hence the reference to “bakers.” Enjoy!

ERRATUM IN KANSAS CITYUM

By H.C. Menefee

MR. S. O. LINDEMAN, the man who made the Teddy Bear famous, confesses to poverty — absolute, dire, appealing poverty.

It [was] all because of a note — this is the note:

S.O. Lindeman, of the Lindeman Company, Kansas City. Mo., who has made several million promoting Bakers’ advertising, was in Cincinnati a few days during the month, en route to Baltimore, Md.

Then he sent around a note [to us], and this is what he wrote:

My Dear Mr. Editor:

l believe that the custom is not to hold the editor of a paper responsible for any statement not made editorially, but, nevertheless, it is my opinion that a statement made in the Iast issue of your valuable paper could not have been without your personal knowledge. I have reference to the notice given to my visit to Cincinnati, in which notice you stated that I had made several million dollars promoting advertising for bakers.

Now, my dear editor, it does not seem prob­able that the source of this news item can be unknown, nor does it seem at all possible that a statement of this kind would be made without the information having permeated your entire establishment. Thus, without the aid of any Sherlock Holmes deduction, I am brought to the conclusion that you must have known that this statement was to be made before your pa­per went to press.

And, oh, what a lot of trouble you have caused me! Here I am, a poor weak little ad man, on the banks of the Kaw, and in such financial straits that if steamboats were selling for a dime, I would not be able to buy the echo from the whistle. And yet, without any warn­ing, my mail suddenly increases to a thousand times its usual proportions, and I am being requested from all points of the compass to donate a liberal amount of money for one cause or another.

From Washington I have a request for fifty thousand for the purpose of erecting a home for the members of the Annanias Club. You cannot imagine how it pains me to have to refuse this request, but I forwarded the letter to our wor­thy President [Theodore] Roosevelt, who is the nominator of all members of this club, and have tried to point out to him the necessity of providing food and shelter for these members.

At Cincinnati, one of your ad men requests that I furnish a sufficient amount of money to buy a large-sized dove, to be used, I under­stand, as an emblem of the Cincinnati Ad Club, with the hope that it may infuse the members of that club with the spirit of peace. And as for applications for positions — they have simply rolled in upon me. Some good advertising man in most every city of the Union wants to work for me and to help separate me from a liberal part of the several millions which you have stated I possess.

And from Chicago comes a letter from a well-known ad writer, in which he states that he had noticed the article, and that if I had used his follow-up system, I would have made twenty millions instead of two.

I want you to set me right with the advertising world. Surely you must realize that they have some sense of humor, and as the matter now stands, the joke would be on you, because most naturally the ad men are wondering why you allow an item of this kind to get into your paper, instead of taking the information unto yourself and laying your own trap to separate me from my money. The only way you can possibly set yourself right in the eyes of the advertising men of America is to say that there was a typographical error in the article referred to and that I have made several dollars instead of several millions. Also, if there are on your subscription list the names of any bakers, do, for God’s sake, write personal letters to them and acquaint them with this error. Some of my customers are complaining that a dollar a day and all the milk I can drink is too much for me now, and Lawd o’ Massy! what will I do if they deprive me of my milk!

I await with keen anxiety your early reply, and trust that you will do full justice to me — an unappealing, unassuming, poor, down-trodden, little ad man, who asks only that the advertising fraternity of the country give him a quarter (and who would be satisfied with a dime).

Appealingly yours,

S.O. LINDEMAN.

Surely it was an oversight on the part of our editorial department to have incorporated the incriminating insinuation that the Kansas City ad man was in any way connected with the steel trust or the Annanias Club. All great Neptune’s ocean nor the corner laundry will never wash this blood from our hands.

But there may be possibly extenu­ating circumstances.

Being so accustomed to our handling millions that come athwart our desk hourly, and knowing full well that there are few advertising men who do not possess a million (either in cash or enthusiasm), this little culprit clause connected with the Teddy Bear man with a paltry million slipped unconsciously into our columns not appearing to possess the significance attributed to it by the “poor, weak, little ad man” of the city on the banks of the muddy Kaw.

We have just investigated the situation locally, and the fatal truth is that the Cincinnati Ad Club is in no wise in need of the avian creature referred to. As stated above, we have investigated and have expert testimony on the subject. Returning delegates from the national convention, including Billy Kreidler and Paul Poindexter, confide to us that [if] the local club be in need of such a bird they would only have to seek a gift from Kansas City as they say that the city by the Kaw has doves to burn.

But horrors! the very thought of an ad man throwing aside the role of imputed riches as did the great Cae­sar before advertising was discovered thrust aside the proffered impe­rial crown, which was a mere bag of shells in comparison with a goodly bunch of the long green.

Double horrors and a tiger that a Kansas City ad man should be guilty!!

To read the article from Signs of the Times, August 2024 about the January 1909 issue, click here.

To view Signs of the Times’ archives from 1906-1921, visit signsofthetimes.com/archive.

Advertisement

Advertisement

SPONSORED VIDEO

Mars Bravo: The Most Interesting Name in the Sign Industry

Mars Bravo is not the kind of name you hear very often in the sign industry — the kind of name more likely to follow, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage…!” In this episode, Eric interviews Mars to find out about her start in the sign industry and her ideas for the future, first with how she got her name.

Promoted Headlines

Advertisement

Subscribe

Facebook

Most Popular