If you haven’t had any major episodes of deja vu lately, might I direct you to our first postcard of 2026?
This postcard of Hart from 1912 shows a single-gabled, two-story building. Despite its uncomplicated and austere appearance, great pains are still taken to add a bit of grandeur - with tall windows and a balcony over the double-door entrance. The picture was taken when much of the foliage was gone from the trees, which shade a walkway from the building to the street. A man in a dark suit jacket is marching down the steps.
In the background, buildings line an adjacent street, and already the vague shapes of the windows and verandas trigger a feeling of familiarity, especially for those who are familiar with old photographs of downtown Hart. In the foreground, the most obvious and unchanging aspect of the location - a tall granite statue stood on a plinth, a stone Civil War soldier in a Union uniform.
Most everyone in Oceana County would recognize the Veteran’s Monument outside the county courthouse immediately, so it feels rather strange to see a foreign building set quite a ways behind it. Or, at least, it does for me and likely anyone who was born or moved to the area after the 1960s.
But at the time this photograph was taken, this building had served as Oceana County’s courthouse since 1874, as helpfully noted in the caption of the photograph in the lower right-hand corner - “Court House and Jail Hart Mich.”
To be specific, the bright, white building serving as the photo’s focal point is the courthouse, while the darker brick building with white trim is the jail, built in 1903. One year after the jail was built, the Civil War monument was erected, honoring and naming the 51 Oceana County men who died in the conflict.
The maple trees on the lawn are actually “centennial” trees, named for the year of their planting, 1876. Originally, 47 trees were planted that year, with the number growing to 55 years after. As the trees grew in the passing decades, it was quickly realized that visiting speakers presenting on the “politician’s pulpit” - the balcony overlooking the entrance - were enveloped by the greenery, and some centennial maples unfortunately were removed. Despite many more being removed in the construction of the current courthouse, about a dozen remain today, and I can attest to the relieving shade they provide on a hot June day at the National Asparagus Festival.
The courthouse pictured was not the first county seat, nor was it even the first building to serve as a courthouse (it’s not even the second or third), but it certainly stood the longest. It was only after 84 years that a new courthouse was finally built, right in front of the old one. Ten years later, the old courthouse was demolished, and the space was used to construct the new jail. So 94 years in total, which isn’t too shabby for a building that cost $6,031 to make.
As for the backside of the postcard, it’s one of those lucky draws where the message has no discernible relation to the front photograph. The card was postmarked on November 26, 1912 at 9 a.m. and was sent to a Mrs. Ethleen Gregoire in the care of Mercy Hospital of Muskegon.
The message reads:
“Rec’d your letter tonight and glad that you are by yourself and like it. Kept thinking about you all day long that probably you would be lonesome. Fannie and Emily were up in the afternoon. We cleaned the bedroom to-day all but washing the windows + putting up the lace curtains again. All the summer clothes are in the organ now and I fixed it up so that the cat can’t get in. All as well as usual.
L.B.G.”
A postscript is written upside down above the address field:
“Are invited to Ferry for Thanksgiving.
Aunt Clark”
In case you were curious, Thanksgiving that year was two days after the postcard was sent, so based on the quick turnaround and the fact Ethleen was likely staying at the hospital for an undetermined period of time, Aunt Clark was merely declaring her Thanksgiving plans rather than inviting anyone else.
“Rec’d” is a common abbreviation for "received," and while I’d love to point out that you can’t have received a letter “tonight” at 9 a.m., I did say “I’ll write that yesterday” rather than “tomorrow” earlier this week, so I am in no position to judge. More likely, L.B.G. wrote the postcard before bed, following her receipt of the letter earlier that evening.
Hopefully Ethleen Gregoire (can we just take a moment here to appreciate that name?) was discharged from Mercy before Thanksgiving, or at least, she was able to get some healthful peace and quiet in her new solitary room.
Finally, I am also always glad to read that cat shenanigans are a historical consistency, and hopefully the summer clothes were spared from any kitty claws.
Now if only I had a postcard of the new courthouse, so we could see the evolution of that plot of land on State Street. I suppose you’ll have to wait and see what I’ve got in store next week!
