Category: Heirloom Highlight

Heirloom Highlight: Grandma’s Shoes

This week’s recurring theme is that of the “Heirloom Highlight,” in which I provide a little history about one of the many artifacts I’ve acquired over the years, then for the most part I let the heirloom do the talking. That makes it easier for me, for sure, but also helps to ensure that the stories of these items are not forgotten.

Today we’re taking a look at a pair of shoes that belonged to my maternal grandmother, Velma (Swing) Hoffmann. I actually have a second pair of Grandma’s shoes, but I’ll probably save those for another time when I plan to highlight her entire wedding ensemble (which I also have). The shoes we’re focusing on today are these:

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when Grandma first showed them to me (high school-age, probably?), but I do remember Grandma saying they were the shoes in which she first learned to walk. I should have asked her how old she was then, but I don’t think I did. Does anyone know? Regardless, the shoes are now more than 100 years old, since I’m pretty sure Grandma walked before she was 9.

Even at the time when I first saw them, I loved the fact that a) they fastened with buttons, and b) had those teensy triangular nails in the soles. I also thought they seemed like they would be awfully slippery for baby Grandma trying to figure out that whole walking business. But she managed it, as she managed so many things in her life.

Heirloom Highlight: the Camellia Dishes

This week’s theme is a slight departure from the usual doom and gloom. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be back to the depressing soon enough. But first, I wanted to incorporate a theme intended to explore some of the many heirlooms with which I am surrounded. To my knowledge, none of the heirlooms have significant monetary value, but all are priceless.

For our first Heirloom Highlight, I’m taking a closer look at a set of dishes I inherited from Grandma Hoffmann. The “Camellia Dishes” are a set that Grandma had for as long as I can remember and always brought out for holiday dinners. Mom, also, when I interviewed her and Dad based on questions found in To Our Children’s Children by Bob Greene and D.G. Fulford, included the camellia dishes as one of her memories of her childhood kitchen, noting Grandma had had the dishes “for a long time.” The earliest photos I’ve found of the dishes (so far) are from 1970. Here is one taken before digging in to the holiday meal, and one after. Grandma seems very startled in the latter.

I don’t know exactly when Grandma acquired the dishes, nor whether she purchased the entire set at once or piece-by-piece over time, but I have learned something of their general history. A quick reverse image search of the maker’s mark led me to the W. S. George Pottery Company and the (sure enough) Camellia pattern, which often used the Bolero shape. The Bolero shape refers to scalloped edging that appears on some of the pieces.

The W. S. George Pottery Company was founded in 1904, with plants eventually in East Palestine, Ohio, and in Canonsburg and Kittanning, Pennsylvania. The company would close in 1960 after having gone bankrupt in 1955.1 Vintage ads for W. S. George wares can be found on the Laurel Hollow Park website; these include other patterns using the Bolero shape, but not our friend the Camellia. Etsy, eBay, and Replacements.com all include Camellia dishes for sale, but I don’t think any new additions could compare to the originals that have been used by family over the years. Not to mention I don’t think there’s much room left in the china cabinet.

  1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._S._George_Pottery_Company ↩︎