Getting buried in Jim Walsh Articles Part 1

What a week it's been for discoveries! In the past few days, I have been reading as much as I can at any possible time of those famous articles by Jim Walsh. As being expected of me, I went directly for the much spoken of articles he wrote on Len Spencer and the Spencer family.  When I had the chance to read the Spencer articles, I could barely contain my excitement, since I had heard of these for 10 years, and had always wanted to read them, after seeing little bits of them quoted everywhere, and then I was finally able to. I was immediately sucked in. It became hard to pry me away from the screen that the pages were on, not even the calling of a teacher could get me away from it easily. Of course the Spencer articles have been the most intriguing so far, even though I have started a bunch more of the others. It's honestly very hard to choose where to start, and it's hard to stay in one place when there's so much to read.

This is one of the most overwhelming few days I've ever had in terms of being  buried in information. 

The Spencer articles are what I started with, and they got me glued to them immediately. Its hard to find a place to start among all of this information, also because Walsh was always going back and correcting information that was incorrect from before. 

I began on Monday with the first article that Walsh did on Spencer, which was in 1947. That article was full of strange mistakes, as he was going off of what he had hard from second and third-hand sources, which, as we well know, isn't always the best to do in this field. Walsh wrote in his first article that the Spencer brothers were twins, and a former student of the Spencer Business college wrote the following account of his time there:

Not even the other students could tell Len and Harry apart. They would go to the blackboard and go through a regular drill, making the same strokes together My father...sent me to the college in the hope that I would overcome my unfortunate left-handedness. Mrs. Spencer was also trying to cure Len of this "vicious" habit...In Len's case the desired result was obtained, for he afterwards wrote in the beautiful flowing hand of his family.

Wait a second, did he just say that Len Spencer was naturally a lefty? Hold on, that's amazing.
Being a lefty, I am very proud of this idiosyncrasy. While yes indeed is can sometimes yield itself a curse, but most of the time, it is something to certainly be proud of, as some of the most brilliant minds throughout history were naturally lefties, even though the ideas that surrounded religion wanted to kill this "curse". To be honest, knowing that Spencer was a lefty says an awful lot. We do think differently, lefties, and we're much more scattered, but certainly stranger. Now All I can see when I imagine Spencer writing anything in that beautiful script, is him writing it with his left hand, even though, as we know, he wouldn't have been seen writing with that "wretched" hand. 

While on this binge, I also grabbed hold of all the amazing images that Walsh used to accompany the Spencer articles. The best one of course was one of him just before he began recording for Columbia, if not around the same time. 

(taken around 1888)

What was so shocking to me about this picture(it's now my favourite of him!) was how innocent and harmless he looks. Never would I have thought to see Spencer so sweet and harmless, considering his wild and reckless nature while in his recording career. It's really kind of touching to be able to see Spencer before the vices of the recording business took a toll on him. With that, remember what I dug up in my last post about Spencer, which incidentally, seems to contradict what new information I've learned on him in the past week. Well, as I've gathered from my past writings  on Spencer, anything on him could contradict something else. Again,this is why he remains endlessly interesting. 

Reading these articles on Spencer and his family(from the perspective of his daughters) really has helped me see Len Spencer as more of a human figure, not just some otherworldly hypnotizing voice captured for eternity. To a collector such as I, before reading these articles, I could still only see him as an immortal voice with that wasn't fully human being, and even if I tried to envision such a thing, that was not possible without reading accounts from the only people who could paint him as human--his daughters. Never had I been so enlightened and touched than to read all of the little things that his daughter Ethel recalled from the relatively short time she knew him. She painted him to be a fully-realized human being, who loved his daughters as much as a parent ought to. Here's an adorable section that almost brought me to tears from how sweet it was:

"cousin Ethel" laughed as she recalled Len Spencer's fondness for peanuts. he liked to take the children to the beach at Coney Island in an old-fashioned open streetcar, and would sit on a street facing backwards, eating "goobers" and dropping the shells in the car. Occasionally for Clara, Myrtle and Ethel's amusement, he would toss one into his mouth and swallow it with exaggerated appreciation. 

He later goes on to write more of Ethel's fond memories. 

"on these occasions," Mrs. Yarbray[Ethel] said, "he wore a wide brimmed hat and relaxed. He went out after dark, fighting 'way out beyond the breakers, but coming in refreshed and vigorous. He preferred it that way. He also liked to stand on the porch, with his arms folded, watching a storm and appearing to defy the elements. His brother Harry was exactly opposite. Thunderstorms frightened him horribly. When one came up he would hide in the bathroom with the shades down until it was over."

That whole bunch of stories was preceded by this:

Her[Ethel's] eyes took on a reminiscent glow as she recalled her tired father's nightly homecomings from his work. He would get off a trolley car on the corner of the street opposite that on which the family lived. The little girls weren't allowed to cross the street, but they would run to the corner, attracted by a peculiarly distinctive whistle which their father always gave once he got off the trolley. Then they would be hugged and would happily trot home with the big, handsome father they idolized. 

Aww...so cute. 

The first time I read it through I could feel almost the urge to cry. This is exactly why this was so enlightening for me, to be able to put a face to that voice, and not just the one that we see in those pictures, but to be able to understand him better, and only begin to understand how complicated he was. Of course, there was plenty more cute stories, but telling ones as well that we'd sort of expect from Spencer.

Such as this one:

we were living in Washington, when sister Clara was born in 1902, and papa made trips and long stays in New York. I remember mother telling me one time that Clara was three weeks old before before papa even saw her...

Well there ya go, that's to be expected. I had assumed that this sort of thing happened, when considering how busy he was, and how frustrating is is for some us to even track him in public records. Again, we don't know why this is exactly, since he appeared to have stayed near Columbia(at 27th and Broadway) around 1898-1900, and luckily this is addressed in the articles, but we don't really know anything about it as of now. Before I move on to another story, here's a great picture of the family from around 1901.

Aww. 

There's Len, but it seems that his mother is also there. Well, that's nice to see. 

Those girls are just super cute, but they're also really intense. The intensity is clearly taking from their father. Also, I think it's important to note that Sara Spencer's hair was very short. In the article this picture came from, it was stated that she was "the original bobbed hair girl", and this can be made clear by the above picture. She supposedly bobbed her hair around the start of the 1870's. From an engraving I saw of her from 1874-ish, her hair appears to already look like Len's hair from around 1896(haha). It's also good to get an image of that fabled "Liz" that Len married in 1892 then split with, then remarried in 1895. Unfortunately, none of these articles have confirmed why all of that happened, and it's looking likely that we won't ever know. 

Speaking of "Liz", Walsh threw in a very interesting bit about her history, that is something we'd never expect:

Mrs. Yarbray surprised me by revealing that she is partly of Russian descent. Although her mother's family name had been Anglicized to Norris, it was originally Nowicki. Her father was a count in the court of the Czar of Russia. After being exiled, he came to the United States and married and American girl. He retained the Russian spelling until he died, but his daughter and two sons preferred Norris. 

Wow! A royal Russian, how interesting. She does look like she could be a blue-blooded Russian. In the paragraph just above came the most curious, and perhaps the most disturbing line of the entire article:

"Cousin Ethel" said, in remarking, that some of the details of her father's married life were obscure: "It has been over 35 years since I have lived near mother, and she was always reticent about discussing her affairs or papa's life, or anything for that matter. Mother was very quiet and felt that the less was discussed, the better for everyone."

What? Come again? That's a little disturbing. Okay, to be fully honest, when I saw that section a million things went through my head, and I was very rather shocked to read such a thing. 

A silent woman disturbs me...

Particularly in the situation here. Clearly Len was a very interesting guy, always doing something new and ever-curious, but to see that his wife was silent about their married life, and about him can spark all sorts of theories. She lived a long time, and could have been interviewed by Walsh, and I had always wondered why she wasn't interviewed, though now I see that such a thing wouldn't have happened in the first place. I can't, and really shouldn't, go on a rant about what theories I have now about why she was quiet, but there could be signs of impropriety on Len's part, since he was clearly a wild bull and stayed plenty of time away from his family. You are aware that I have stated in the past as a hypothesis that Spencer stayed with Fred Hylands often when he had that publishing firm, and that can at least explain 1899 to early 1900 kinda. But then again, that is only a theory, though it would make sense, since in the 1900 census(where we can't yet find Spencer) Hylands had a guest and his wife as boarders. Other than staying with "bad influence" Hylands, we know that the phonoscope and "guys from work"(fellow Columbians) had a dark and a not-so-serious outlook about what they heard around the studio. Speaking of that, one of the more disturbing sections from the same article regarding their married life read thus:

(this is regarding Spencer's unfortunate first wife, kinda...)

Mrs. Yarbray believes Margaret Agnes Kaiser, whose foster parents were named Allen, is the "Elizabeth Allen" whom old-time Columbia officials["guys from work"] thought Len married in a runaway match, and that the intervening years caused the name to become confused.

That sure does sound like the crude Columbia staff we know and love. I'm not sure what that means exactly, or which of his wives they were referring to(maybe Margaret? whatever...). These sort of stories are similar to the little puns that they would throw in The Phonoscope about Spencer, just like this one:

Gotta love playful alcoholic jokes!

Yes, this is exactly what I mean here. It seems obvious to us as collectors that he had some habit, just from seeing those pictures of him, and thinking of blurbs like the one above. Most of us can come to a consensus that he was an alcoholic, but of course, do we really know that? No. But! we do have subtle jokes like the above blurb to help us see how his friends from work(at U.S. and later Columbia) saw him, and how we can piece him together. Of course, I have tried my best to piece together his darker side, but of course, before I can know all of that, it's good to understand his soft side through the adorable recollections of his daughters. When reading these accounts, we only see that one side, and get little hints of another throughout. Though, after getting lots of time to think over this figure and his family(especially his saintly mother), I am ever more motivated to one day write a book detailing the fantastic life of this monumental human being. Now that I can see him as he truly was, he seems more human when his voice blares from a horn or through various kinds of eartubes. No longer, after reading Walsh's wonderfully insightful and well composed articles on Len Spencer, I see not as much a crook for wages under Master Edward Easton or Victor Emerson, I also see a flawed, but fully realized human being, who raised his daughters to be lovely and intelligent women with fascinating stories that will continue to be told by collectors from generation to generation, as long as Len's voice blares from phonographs and graphophones and anything else. 

Before I end off, here is a picture that really was touching to me to see:

That's baby Len Spencer, taken in December of 1867.

Even before he was a year on this earth, the sense of humor and love for life was already there, long before the innocence was lost and before recording corrupted his soul, but was able to make him save space for his daughters. 

Hope you enjoyed this!