From Dave Brigham:
In June of 2020, I gave a Zoom presentation about Boston-area ghost signs to the Historic Resources Committee of the Boston Society of Architects. The committee's chairman, Jack Glassman, had enjoyed Nora McGreevy's article about these relics of the outdoor advertising world in the Boston Globe from October 2019, in which I was featured. Over the course of a few months, bit by bit, I put together a PowerPoint about these signs, which I document here on the blog (and on the Backside Instagram) whenever I spot them.
I'd never done anything of this sort before, so I was honored that Jack had tracked me down and made the offer. I've decided to serialize that presentation for my blog readers. While I post about these signs with some frequency, this series gives me an opportunity to share some of the history of the sign-painting industry, along with photos and context.
Many local photographers love these old signs as much, if not more, than I do. And most of them make better photos. But because of the volume of material I've cranked out here over the last 13+ years, for a brief period, I became the go-to guy for the old ghosts. I was also featured in Danny Mortimer's 2022 video about old Boston signs.
Without further ado (and a little bit of editing), here's part one of my Zoom presentation:
When I was a kid I collected several things: beer bottle caps, coins, baseball cards, pimples. The cards I collected mainly because my older brother did, and it was fun to take special trips to the small department store in my hometown -- Leaders -- that stocked everything from TVs and radios to candy cigarettes, posters, toys, small appliances and, of course, baseball cards.
I loved baseball, but unlike my statistics-obsessive brother, unless the cards featured Red Sox players, I didn’t care that much about them.
The coins and bottle caps were more important to me. They were mysterious. I couldn’t get them at the store. I had to hunt for them. And that meant walking around the neighborhood, the elementary school behind my house, the Little League fields where I played baseball, the nearby park where the volunteer firemen held their annual summer carnival.
My favorite bottle caps were from faraway places: England (Watney’s), Canada (Red Cap), Hawaii (Primo), Norway (Ringnes). They were much more exotic than the Piel’s caps that my dad popped off those little brown bottles once in a while.
Coins, however, became my true passion. My obsession began in elementary school one day, when I got a penny from Trinidad and Tobago in the change I received when buying milk. I was further inspired when I dug in the dirt behind a Little League field and unearthed a Mercury dime. Once I discovered a cache of old European coins among my dad’s Army stuff in the basement, I was totally hooked. I learned to check every penny to see if it was a “wheat,” which meant it was minted between 1909 and 1956. I closely monitored my change to see what other surprises would pop up.
My grandmother regularly mailed me old pennies. Before long, I had a box full of coins from countries including England, Germany, Russia, India and Canada, and American coins such as buffalo nickels, JFK dollars, Indian Head pennies and a seated Liberty dime, one of my prized possessions to this day.
This gives you some background on my longstanding interests in both collecting things and learning about history. While I still look for interesting coins in the decreasing amount of change I receive at stores, my current collecting obsession is shooting photos of the backside of America.
As regular readers known, the backside of America is where you’ll find collapsing factories, old railroad trestles, abandoned rail beds, historic named buildings, rusting cars in the woods, historic plaques and, of course, ghost signs.
From the late 19th century into the middle of the 20th, large-form murals painted on the sides of brick buildings and barns boldly advertised everything from soft drinks to cereal, restaurants to furniture businesses, tobacco products to livery stables, and much more. They were relatively inexpensive and were guaranteed to catch the eyes of folks walking and, increasingly, driving by.
Mass-production billboards competed with these more singular, single-business advertisements. By the middle of last century, electric signs began coming into vogue. And, after that, signs printed on vinyl were introduced. These were more economical and easier and quicker to install.
But as you’ll see later in this series, hand-painted signs are having a resurgence.
Being that they were painted, these older ads began to fade and peel in the elements. Or they were painted over or demolished along with whatever building they happened to be on.
Hunting them down has become something of an obsession with me and many other folks around the world. Any place there are old brick buildings or barns with large blank spaces, you might find an old advertisement, a fossil from a previous marketing age. For me, these faded signs are a connection to a more personal form of art. They offer a sense of mystery and intrigue: What does the sign say? Does that product still exist? What long-gone business used to be in that building?
I’d like to share with you some of the signs I’ve found in Boston and surrounding cities and towns. I’ve separated the signs into 10 categories, with some sub-genres included within that list. To finish up this first post, I'm going to focus on Drinks and Food, followed by Markets, Grocery Stores and Liquor Stores.
Coca-Cola ads are fairly popular as far as ghost sign subjects go.
This sign was on the side of a former dive bar in Waltham called Michael J’s. I don’t know how long it was there or whether it pre-dated the bar. Unfortunately, it was painted over a few years ago when the bar closed and Michael J's space was converted to apartments.
This ad is along Main Street in Watertown. It is located on the side of a building that for years housed Jack’s Smoke Shop. I don’t know whether the sign was related to the store or not. Nowadays, the space is occupied by Blue Moon Smoke Shop.
The next two signs combine Coca-Cola with restaurants, although the specific names of the eateries aren’t displayed.
This one is located in Boston’s South End. It is for a Southern fried chicken restaurant whose name has perhaps been lost to time.
This sign in Somerville's Union Square is an example of a ghost sign that has been restored. And then defaced, as you can see.
The next sign is different than what we traditionally think of as a ghost sign.
This isn’t a painted wall ad, but it’s still an advertisement of sorts from times gone by. Ice Cream Works operated in Brookline, Newton and Boston going back at least 30 years. This store is in Brookline. I’ve found out little about the mini-chain of stores. Subsequent to Ice Cream works, this space was home to an Emack & Bolio’s store. It’s now a veterinarian’s office.
As I've stated before on this blog, I document old signs and store names to preserve the past, to bring back people's fond memories of the hazy past. The next two signs, located in Cambridge, are some of the most iconic old ads in Greater Boston.
Located in Central Square, the Quaker Oats ad is a favorite of ghost sign junkies. The Quaker Oats trademark of a man in "Quaker garb" was registered with the U.S. Patent Office in 1877, according to the cereal maker's web site. The company eventually grew to a nationwide behemoth, and signs such as the one in Cambridge cropped up everywhere. There used to be one in Boston's Roxbury neighborhood, on Tremont Street.
The other Cambridge stand-out is one that has been restored almost to the point where I hesitate to call it a ghost sign.
Founded in 1888 in Boston's Roxbury neighborhood, Squirrel Brand is still a going concern. The company, which makes a variety of nut products, moved to Cambridge in 1899; it is now part of John B. Sanfilippo & Son out of Elgin, Illinois. The former factory was converted to 20 units of permanently affordable housing in 2002.
Let's wrap up this installment with some signs for Markets, Grocery Stores and Liquor Stores.
Mansfield Market once stood at the corner of Mansfield and Washington streets in Somerville’s Union Square, and sold Royal Crown Cola. I wish all ghost signs were this self-explanatory and easy to read. This space is now occupied by another small store.
The sign above is on Dartmouth Street in Boston's Back Bay, and is also fairly easy to read. I’m not sure whether D.A. Keefe & Company was located at this address, or somewhere else nearby.
Not all ghost signs are painted relics from 90+ years ago. I have no idea what the name of the next store was, although if I read Chinese I might.
Located in Boston's Chinatown, this market is next to a restaurant that has also shuttered in recent years. I recall walking by this store in the early ‘90s, when I worked in the Leather District, and seeing fresh fish flopping out of buckets of ice onto the sidewalk. That’s a cool thing about ghost signs: they can connect you with memories of places you once shopped or ate or walked by or wondered about.
In the course of working on this presentation, I discovered the great utility of Flickr, the online photo-sharing community. There, I found people who had done more research into, or had prior knowledge of, many of the ghost signs I was unable to identify. The one below is in the Field’s Corner area of Boston's Dorchester neighborhood.
I didn’t know what it said until I checked Flickr. It advertised Hackett & Company’s store, which sold groceries and liquor.
In Boston’s West End, I found a similar sign, along Friend Street.
Here again, I turned to Flickr. A user there who’d posted a shot of this sign identified it as The Old Marlowe Wine Company. Further, I found a user at another web site who provided additional information: “Bald Eagle Whiskey / Old Marlowe Wine Co. - Medicinally Pure”
Fascinating, right?!
In the next segment of this series, I will feature ghost signs for automotive/transportation companies, miscellaneous and unknown businesses, warehouse/storage operations, laundry outfits and more.
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