Mother’s Day, a holiday devoted to honoring mothers, has its American origins in the years following the Civil War. To aid national healing in the wake of unprecedented personal loss, many women’s groups wanted to create a day focusing on peace and motherhood.

In 1914, a national campaign culminated in a federal proclamation officially designating the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day. To mark this now-official holiday, many people began writing letters to their mothers. Soon, giving gifts of flowers and sending greeting cards became popular.

These examples of Mother’s Day greeting cards from The Henry Ford’s collection provide a charming glimpse into these celebrations over the past century.

 

Making handmade cards is a perennial favorite activity of children, and a Mother’s Day card made by a son or daughter remains a special gift. A child whose parents were first generation Polish-Americans created this card in 1942. A first grader at a Polish Catholic school in South Bend, Indiana, he decorated his card with a crayon drawing and the inscription “Droga Mamo.” He also used stickers and trimmed the edges in a scalloped pattern with a red ribbon holding the pages together. The inside pages contain a printed poem in Polish.

This 1960 card in many ways represents the typical sentiments we associate with Mother’s Day - gratitude for our mother’s loving care that we’ve received. The card’s image of a silver basket with flowers recognizes that flowers are a traditional gift for this holiday.

Husbands used cards like this one to honor their wives on Mother’s Day. They could also use it when their children were too young to give their mother a special card. The delicate visual image of the mother and the card shaped like a fan are evocative of the early to mid-1920s popular style in America.

This card for “My Other Mother” was sent in 1921 to Susana C. Cole, a 71-year-old widow who was living in Akron, Ohio, with her only daughter and son-in-law. Who was the Salt Lake City, Utah, sender of this card, then? Perhaps it was her son-in-law on a business trip or another relative - or even a former student, since Susana was a retired schoolteacher.

Other mysterious elements from this same correspondence are the singed edges of both the card and envelope - evidence that this early airmail letter encountered a dramatic fate on the way to its recipient: The U.S. Post Office message stamped on the envelope states that the letter was recovered from an airplane crash in Rock Springs, Wyoming.

This Mother’s Day card from about 1980 is anything but traditional - it’s printed on a brown paper bag! Informal and humorous, its modern theme may reflect its likely “Gen-X” givers - or their mother’s up-to-date attitude. The bright pink color of the text reflects the vivid colors popular in the late 20th century.

Have you ever given or received a memorable Mother's Day card? Tell us about it in the comments below or on our Facebook page.

Cynthia R. Miller is former Curator of Photographs and Prints at The Henry Ford.

20th century, women's history, home life, holidays, families, correspondence, by Cynthia Read Miller, archives

A planned two-week checkup inspection of the iconic house of the future - Buckminster Fuller's Dymaxion House - turned into a two-month long “surgery” to repair extensive fatigue cracking of the thin aluminum beams that form the deck of the house. The cracks were visible from the underside, which is only accessible by sliding on your back on the museum's teak floor in about 18 inches of workspace.

Thorough inspection indicated that the damage was happening only in areas where the public walks. There were no cracks in the living room, which has never been accessible to visitors.

The cracks were developing due to the flexing of metal at the sharp edge of L-shaped brackets supporting the beams. Remember, there was no precedent for the use of aluminum in this architectural application, so we guess that Bucky was never aware he had allowed this fundamental design flaw. The house was a prototype in process - so it's understandable.

Our first look at the problem set off a flurry of activity to plan for repair. Fortunately, we had most of the expertise and labor required right on staff. Tim Brewer was there every step of the way when we put the house together the first time in Oct 2001; he knows every bolt and cable of the complicated dwelling machine.

Our dedicated volunteer Richard Jeryan, a retired engineer from Ford Motor Company, knew the best local firm to jump in and manufacture repair patches for us. Metro Technologies, located in Troy, Mich., made and helped install the necessary patches using high-tech adhesive and large rivets.

Most of the conservation department had a role as well. Some of our part-time staff - notably Fran McCans and Jill Maki - put in many extra hours to see this fascinating project through in good time.

Just getting at the problem required the removal of hundreds of fasteners – the stainless steel bolts, wood screws and aluminum rivets that hold the whole house together. Removing all those rivets while working in such tight spaces was challenging.

We lifted and moved the closet “pods” to open up more of the floor.  We shored the structure with lumber and removed the offending brackets. We pounded-out the floor-boards to access the bolts that retained the brackets.

Then we drill-out the ends of the cracks to arrest their progress in preparation for the addition of thicker aluminum patches custom-fit to the tapered U-shaped profile of the beams.

Two Metro Tech guys came in to apply the patches. Then we closed the first half and repeated the whole process for the second half of the deck.

Meanwhile, we worked with staff carpenters to make a new “over-floor” of plywood to install under the carpet.  This serves to spread the load of visitors’ foot-falls, reducing that flexing stress that causes fatigue in metals.

After reassembly and the carpet is relaid, the change will go unnoticed by most visitors.

Those of us familiar with the house can feel a distinct difference: it feels much more solid. Bucky meant for the house to hang from the mast.  He described the deck as “pneumatic” in some publications…but he had no idea that his prototype would become one of Henry Ford Museum’s most loved exhibits one day, with hundreds of thousands of visitors walking through it every year.

We think our work has preserved this house for another couple generations at least.  Only time will tell.

Clara Deck is former Senior Conservator at The Henry Ford.

Additional Readings:

• Dymaxion House Reconstruction in Henry Ford Museum, December 26, 2000
  
• Curating & Preserving: The Dymaxion House
  
• Membership Spotlight: Blake Almstead
  
• Living in the Dymaxion House

#Behind The Scenes @ The Henry Ford, engineering, design, Henry Ford Museum, collections care, conservation, by Clara Deck, Dymaxion House, Buckminster Fuller

When guests see the Rosa Parks bus on display inside Henry Ford Museum, they are often in awe. Speechless. Moved, even.

And you don't have to merely look at this magnificent milestone in American history. When you visit Henry Ford Museum, you can actually climb aboard, walk the narrow aisle of the bus - and even sit in the very seat that Rosa Parks occupied on December 1, 1955.

But during that visit, two questions are typically asked: "Is it THE bus?" and "How did The Henry Ford get it?"

The answer to the first question: Yes, it is.

How the bus was acquired is a more modern story. In September 2001, an article in the Wall Street Journal announced that the Rosa Parks bus would be available in an Internet auction in October. Once we had confirmed the answer to the question posed above, we entered the online auction and came out the highest bidder.

After nearly five months of restoration, with support from the Save America's Treasures grant program, the Rosa Parks bus made its return to the floor of Henry Ford Museum on February 1, 2002. (With Liberty And Justice For All, the exhibition where the bus currently is displayed, had not yet been constructed.)

Paint chips from the unrestored bus, consultation with other experts, vintage postcards and eyewitness accounts from a museum employee who lived in Montgomery during the bus boycott allowed the museum to recreate the paint colors exactly.

Restoration efforts were performed on the bus down to the tiniest detail. For example: On the day Mrs. Parks boarded it, the bus was already seven years old and ran daily on the streets of Montgomery. Therefore, for authenticity, conservation experts applied recreated Alabama red dirt in the wheel wells, and tire treads and period advertising was recreated for the interior and exterior of the bus.

With all of these elements together and pondering what happened on December 1, 1955, exploring this historic artifact creates a powerful connection for many.

21st century, 20th century, research, #Behind The Scenes @ The Henry Ford, women's history, Rosa Parks bus, Rosa Parks, Henry Ford Museum, conservation, collections care, Civil Rights, African American history

In explaining Mr. Ford's interest in the past, I think that in every person, after they reach a certain age, they begin to reminisce...in Mr. Ford's case, he was able to carry it further than the average person.

- Ernest Liebold, secretary to Henry Ford, in the book Reminiscences

In the beginning of the 20th century, the American elite were collecting European and English paintings, sculptures and decorative arts...but as cities began to grow and rural areas grew more and more scarce, those same people began to long for fine American furniture, glassware, porcelain, rare books and more.

That is, except for a handful of people like Henry Ford.

To him, humble machines were an expression of the "genius of the American people" and a reflection of American progress. He believed that everyday objects told what wasn't recorded in written histories and reflected a way of life that was quickly slipping away.

As early as 1912, Ford was collecting "relics" that represented American industrial progress, such as wagons and threshing machines - but it was this progress that prompted him to his first restoration and renovation of a building.

In 1919, a road improvement project in Ford's hometown of Springwells Township, Michigan (now the city of Dearborn), meant his birthplace would need to be either moved 200 yards from its original location - or destroyed.

Ford decided to move the house and restore it to the way it looked at the time of his mother's death in 1876, when he was 13 years old. Ford personally took charge of the birthplace restoration, meticulously recreating the details of the house down to the original or similar furnishings.

For example, Ford remembered sitting by a Starlight stove in the dining room as a child. After 18 months of searching, he discovered the exact make and model on a porch in Stockbridge, Michigan, which he purchased for $25 and loaded into his car for the journey back to Dearborn. And when he couldn't find the precise pattern of dishes his mother had used, he had the original site of his birthplace excavated and had replicas made from the pottery shards found.

Ford dedicated the restoration of his childhood home to his mother's memory and her teachings, particularly noting her love of family, her belief in the value of hard work, in learning "not from the school books but from life," and her belief in trusting one's intuition. His mother had encouraged his early tinkering and youthful inventions, and he felt sure she had set him on his unique path in life.

When the restoration of his childhood home was completed, people were awestruck by its authenticity. It seemed remarkable to him, and others, how a recreated environment could catapult one into another time and place.

This was the beginning of Ford's interest in preservation of historic buildings, and after several other restorations of buildings at their original sites, he began looking to create a village that would represent the early days of America up to the present. Working with Ford Motor Company draftsman and architect Edward L. Cutler, Ford began laying out plans for Greenfield Village.

It wasn't meant to represent any specific place in the United States, or even serve as a particular town - Ford created Greenfield Village primarily from buildings that he had purchased and moved to the site, organizing them around a village green with a courthouse, a town hall, a church, a store, an inn and a school. He placed homes along a road beyond the green. He brought industrial buildings, such as carding mills, sawmills and gristmills to the village and made them operate.

Today, Greenfield Village is organized into seven historic districts, with real working farms, a glassblowing shop, a pottery shop and more...so that, just like Henry Ford when he surveyed his preserved birthplace, you, too, can be transported to another place and time to learn about the ordinary and extraordinary people who shaped America.

(Editor's note: Much of this information is excerpted from  Telling America's Story: A History of The Henry Ford, which explores in-depth the origins and history of Greenfield Village, Henry Ford Museum and its artifacts.)

Have you been to Greenfield Village before? Which buildings and/or experiences are your favorite, and why?

Ford family, home life, books, Greenfield Village buildings, Henry Ford, Greenfield Village history, Greenfield Village

When my parents handed me the keys to my 2001 Ford Escort ZX2 at the ripe old age of 16, I felt an instant sense of freedom.  Being able to go anywhere without asking for a ride from my mom or older brother gave me my first taste of adulthood.  I know the feeling of independence of owning your own destiny impacts almost all drivers because I recognize this passion in the researchers and car restorers who visit our reading room.

And freedom would have resonated with early car consumers too, especially women.  After gaining the right to vote with the passage of the 19^th amendment in 1919, many women felt for the first time that they had a political voice and were therefore empowered to fight for equality in other areas.  Of course, many women, especially women of color, saw emancipation fleeting, as they were either barred from voting or secluded in the private sphere.  Still, for many women, the feelings of accomplishment were overwhelming, and advertisers in the United States’ emerging modern consumer economy took the chance to capitalize on the freedom motif.

The newest, most revolutionary, most popular item on the market was the automobile, and auto companies sought to reach out to female consumers using shiny new cars as the greatest symbol for female enfranchisement.  These ads reflect the duality of the discourse on women in the country:  both free yet still bound to feminine stereotyping.

“It enables them now to do things and to go places that had hitherto seemed out of the question.”

This statement expresses the general sentiment of the time that many women were moving into new and exciting territories.  As the 1920s progressed, highlighting the ability of the Model T to allow women to pursue independence became a popular theme in Ford advertisements. Notice that Ford tells women that they can “drive this easily-handled car themselves” and not need a man to escort or help them.  Although this advertisement obviously relies on stereotypes of feminine weakness, the overall message is that feminine weakness does not prohibit the modern woman from achieving equality.

“By owning a Ford car a woman can with ease widen her sphere of interests without extra time or effort.” 

In this advertisement Ford once more points out the ways that a Model T can help women move beyond home.  Unlike the previous ad that associated the car with female autonomy, this ad links a woman and her domestic duties.  With this ad Ford targets older women who use their car not to golf or enjoy leisure activities but to conduct daily errands.  The suggestion is that with a Model T, a woman with a family can quickly and efficiently complete the tasks within her sphere while still remaining independent from her husband.

Not every Ford advertisement featuring women played on traditional stereotypes.  This ad, though not as flashy or colorful as others, shows off the Ford’s mechanical assets rather than its association to style or sophistication.  Although it might seem strange that a technical ad would feature women drivers and passengers, there are many advertisements like this that do not simply link female car ownership to accepted domestic behavior.  One reason might be audience, as this ad ran in publications like the Saturday Evening Post and Collier’s and had to resonate with men as well as women.  At the same time, there were many women who were interested in the mechanical aspects of automobiles and Ford reached out to these consumers with ads like this.

When interest and enthusiasm for the Model T waned in the mid-1920s, Ford Motor Company stopped production on the world’s most popular car and in December 1927 debuted the 1928 Model A.  The new Ford was a beautiful car, modern and stylish, and the advertisements followed suit.  This ad relies heavily on a distinct gender binary by focusing on the different features of the Model A that would appeal to men and women.  “Men will admire the colors of the new Ford, but only a woman, from her fuller knowledge of clothes and style, will realize that they are colors that will not tire.”  This statement perfectly exemplifies the attitude in auto advertising that still continues to this day, namely relying on the assumption that men buy cars based on speed and horse-power, while women focus on aesthetics and comfort.

While the last advertisement reflects gendered biases towards consumers, this advertisement demonstrates a very different message.  Here the main focus is not the women in the picture or specifications given in the text; no, the feeling I get when I look at this advertisement hearkens to that first experience of autonomy, driving my own car at age 16 with nothing but the road in front of me and endless possibilities of people, places and experiences surrounding me.  In 1928 this feeling of freedom and independence would have resonated with all drivers regardless of gender, class, race or creed, as it still does today.

Jillian Reese, Reading Room Assistant at the Benson Ford Research Center, is an avid women’s history fan and photocopier extraordinaire. 

1920s, 20th century, women's history, Model Ts, Ford Motor Company, cars, by Jillian Reese, advertising

“If we ever do anything worth doing, maybe we can get a car in here.”

That’s what Wood Brothers Racing's Eddie and Len Wood said following a 2008 visit to Henry Ford Museum when they had the opportunity to get up close and touch the 1965 Lotus-Ford race car that is part of their family’s 60-year racing legacy.

Well, to make a long (great!) story short: They did something. And it was big. Really big.

The Wood brothers and driver Trevor Bayne were in Dearborn yesterday to present to Henry Ford Museum that really big something: the famous No. 21 Ford Fusion that a 20-year-old Bayne drove to an unlikely victory in the 2011 NASCAR Daytona 500.

Fans and press were on hand to see and cheer on the unveiling of the museum's newest artifact.

Fans take photos as the car is unveiled at Henry Ford Museum.

The car will be on display in the Racing in America area of the Driving America exhibition in Henry Ford Museum. The Fusion's permanent home will be right between the 1901 Ford Sweepstakes car and the 1965 Indy 500-winning Lotus-Ford. The Sweepstakes marked the beginning of Ford racing, the Lotus-Ford changed everything, and now the No. 21 Ford Fusion has earned a spot as part of the Ford racing story.

The car is in the exact same condition it was when it left victory lane at Daytona in 2011. The exterior is ornamented with confetti - stuck to the car thanks to a glue of cola and Gatorade that bathed the car when celebrating the win. The car is authentically dirty; even Bayne's water bottle is still under the seat in the cockpit.

Eddie Wood gave a moving account of how events that led to the win just seemed to fall into place. Edsel Ford II told the crowd that although he's witnessed some exciting races in his life - including the 1966 Le Mans when Ford beat Ferrari - the Feb 20, 2011 win at Daytona topped them all.

Fans were eager to hear from Trevor Bayne who shared his account and gave some insight into all the people who are part of the story that led to victory lane. He also shared his own excitement about his car being part of Henry Ford Museum.

"When I walk up to my car and they call it an artifact, it kind of throws me off a little bit," he joked. "I got to flip the ignition switch. I never thought it'd be something I'm not allowed to touch anymore."

After the unveiling before the cheering crowd, there was a fan Q & A led by Michigan International Speedway president Roger Curtis.

Fans collected some autographs and had some photo ops with car and crew.

 Kristine Hass is a writer and long-time member of The Henry Ford. 

Florida, racing, race cars, race car drivers, Henry Ford Museum, events, Driven to Win, by Kristine Hass, 21st century, 2010s

By now most of us are familiar with the iconic image of a working-class woman during World War II known as "Rosie the Riveter." As you may know, "Rosie" is a character based on images of real working women at the time. What you may not know is that the Benson Ford Research Center has a wealth of these Rosie-the-Riveter-type images within its collection of photographs donated from Ford Motor Company.

 

 

What I find delightful about these images is that they tell a story about American women set in a specific place and time — not to mention documenting the budding social change that would flower in later decades.

(By the way: The woman shown below, Norma Denton, was photographed February 10, 1943, as part of Ford Motor Company's P.R. photo essay entitled "Around the Clock Activities," which documents a day in the life of several working women in a war production factory. You can learn more about Norma and the "Around the Clock Activities" photographs on our Flickr site, as well as on our Collections page.)

 

 

 

 

From 1942 to 1945, when many American men were overseas fighting the war, women were hired to fill in for the lack of male employees in factories. These women were expected to do everything that men had to do to build tanks, jeeps and bombers for the U.S. "Arsenal of Democracy." All of the automotive companies in the Detroit area, as well as those in the rest of the country, ceased making automobiles and converted their assembly lines to wartime production. Ford Motor Company's Willow Run plant in Ypsilanti, Michigan, and the Rouge plant in Dearborn, Michigan, were two of the largest such facilities.

 

 

 

 

During peak production at the Willow Run plant, up to one third of the workforce consisted of women. This does not seem like a particularly sizable number to us today; however, it was significant at the time because prior to World War II, very few manufacturing facilities employed that many women. Once the war was over, women were expected to return to being housewives and mothers so that the returning GI's could go back to work. It would take years, if not decades, before women re-entered the work force in significant numbers.

I particularly like the following two photographs that show women employees with the B-24 "Liberator" bombers they helped to build. I think the enthusiasm of the women in photo #P.833.80544.6 and the confident stride of the woman in photo #P.833.80180.1 are indicative of the pride and economic independence women felt as productive members of the workforce. The image of these women posing with their "Liberators" is also a fitting metaphor for the future women's movement whose seeds were arguably sown here.

 

 

 

 

Linda Skolarus is Manager of Reference Services at The Henry Ford's Benson Ford Research Center, where you can research 'Rosie' and much more.

20th century, 1940s, World War II, women's history, Michigan, Ford workers, Ford Motor Company, by Linda Skolarus

If you’re a regular reader of The Henry Ford’s blog, you might have noticed several recent blog posts about The Henry Ford’s ongoing effort to digitize its collection – from a special project to photograph 120 of the collection’s vehicles to the rapid capture of 2D archival materials.

Capturing the 3D collection in electronic format has its own joys and pitfalls. The three-dimensional objects have a (sometimes substantial!) weight and heft to them, they are in various states of fragility, they are on exhibit or well-packed in storage, and in some cases, they may have particular complications in handling due to their age or the materials from which they are made.

Take, for example, our hubcap collection.

“Hubcaps?” you might ask. “Why hubcaps?”

Well, The Henry Ford has collected hundreds of hubcaps. Matt Anderson, our Curator of Transportation, explains their importance this way:

“The hubcap’s evolution mirrors that of the car itself. What began as a purely practical device grew into a stylish form of expression. Manufacturers mark hubcaps with logos and use different designs to complement a vehicle’s overall form, from elegant wire to sporty magnesium alloy. Some owners install custom caps, further personalizing their vehicles.”

In short, there is more to a hubcap than meets the eye, which is why they found their way into our digitization process recently.

The first step in digitization is locating and retrieving the object(s) we want to digitize, which are usually either in on- or off-site storage or on exhibit somewhere on the premises and can only be retrieved by staff members specially trained to handle the objects.

 

 

 

Once retrieved, objects need varying levels of conservation. This can involve something as simple as cleaning, or much more involved procedures to restore the stability of an object. Here, conservation specialist Marlene Gray examines and treats boxes and boxes of hubcaps.

 

 

Once they are all clean and shiny, the hubcaps are carefully moved over to our photography studio, where they get the glamour treatment. In the photo below, Conservation Specialist Sarah Kollar and our photographer Rudy Ruzicska pick out the next hubcap to be photographed, using the camera set-up behind and just to the right of Rudy in the below photograph.

 

 

Some complex objects get many photographs from multiple angles, while some, like the humble hubcap, get one good chance to shine (literally).

Once the photograph(s) have been taken, the digital images have to be named, appropriately sized, and moved into our collections database, which looks a lot like Sarah sitting at a computer with spreadsheets nearby.

 

 

From there, we create a description of the object within our collections database. Collections documentation specialists within our registrar's office enter the material the hubcap is made of, noting its color, dimensions, any inscriptions it might have and any other information about it or its origin that they can glean, which often entails some research and consultation with curators.

Meanwhile, other collections documentation specialists and curators write brief narratives for many of the objects, explaining how and when they were used and their historical significance. When all this information is entered into our collections database, it looks like this:

Once the object is described within our collections system, and once it has at least one good photograph, it is ready for prime time!

Right now, each digitized object goes to two different digital homes: our collections website and our digitized collection on the interactive touchscreen kiosks within the Driving America exhibit.

You can save favorite items into sets and share them back and forth across both venues, adding new favorites as you go!

What hubcaps (or other collections items) will make it into your sets?

Ellice Engdahl, Digital Collections Initiative Manager at The Henry Ford, finds hundreds of hubcaps surprisingly compelling.

collections care, conservation, photography, #Behind The Scenes @ The Henry Ford, by Ellice Engdahl, digitization

As they’ve demonstrated before, being a curator often involves some sleuthing – see how a simple search uncovered the puzzling life of a 20^th-century portrait painter for our curator of decorative arts.

Recently, while searching through our painting collection for portraits of Henry and Clara Ford, I came across two created in 1926 by an artist named Carl Bennett Linder. Displayed at Henry and Clara Ford’s Fair Lane home, these portraits came to Henry Ford Museum in 1951, following Clara’s death. A search of our collections database revealed that we actually own nine canvases by Mr. Linder – all portraits of the Ford family. Curious, I searched the Ford family papers, where I found letters and receipts spanning from 1924 to 1936 for an even larger group of paintings of the extended Ford family: Henry and Clara’s son, Edsel, and his wife, Eleanor; the Ford grandchildren; and even a portrait of Mrs. William Clay, Eleanor Ford’s mother. Mr. Linder was apparently a favorite artist of Henry and Clara, as he produced several portraits of them over the years. Continue Reading

Illinois, New York, Europe, 20th century, 1940s, 1930s, paintings, immigrants, Clara Ford, by Charles Sable, art

People often send us letters offering items for our collection. Recently, I received a letter in the mail that surprised and absolutely delighted me.

 

Among the notable collections of The Henry Ford are 12 quilts made by an exceptionally talented, unassuming Indiana farm wife named Susan McCord (1829-1909). I opened the letter to find that the family of McCord’s great-grandson was offering us the opportunity to acquire one more: a Triple Irish Chain quilt made for her daughter, Millie McCord Canaday, about 1900.

 

 

It was the last remaining quilt known to have been made by Susan McCord. Soon after, this beauty was on its way to Dearborn to join the other 12 McCord quilts in The Henry Ford’s collection.

 

The Triple Irish Chain is a traditional quilt pattern — but in Susan McCord’s hands, this design became much more. Like all of her quilts, the Triple Irish Chain demonstrates McCord's considerable skill at manipulating fabric, color and design to turn a traditional quilt pattern into something extraordinary.

 

 

I could easily imagine Susan McCord carefully choosing fabric from her bag of scraps, cutting it into thousands of fabric squares, carefully determining their placement within the overall design and sewing the squares together. I could picture McCord then topping off this creation with her utterly unique, “signature” design — a stunning vine border, the leaves expertly pieced from tiny scraps of fabric. And it certainly wasn’t hard to imagine Millie McCord’s delight when she received this lovely gift!

 

To all who see Susan McCord’s quilts - whether experts or casual observers - the remarkable beauty and craftsmanship is evident. Now beautifully photographed, the story of this quilt can be readily accessed through our online collections – so that anyone, near or far, can enjoy McCord's quilt at the click of a mouse.

 

Do you have any special family quilts or other handmade heirlooms? Share your story in the comments below or on our Facebook page.

 

Jeanine Head Miller, Curator of Domestic Life at The Henry Ford, is an unabashed Susan McCord “groupie.”

Indiana, women's history, quilts, making, design, by Jeanine Head Miller