Welcome to week two of the Hiatus! One hand, that means you're deprived of the meandering twaddle of the daily installments and the regular features, but on the other, there's some stuff you might not care about at all. But there's a contest!

Today we're going to look at dream homes in the post-war world.


Everyone wanted to leave here. Why not? The houses were new and modern. Instead of downtown shopping trips on the streetcar, or picking up things from the butcher or tiny grocery on the corner, you could drive to the new shopping center for air-conditioned one-stop shopping.


Hence the appeal of . . .

The 1957 Dream Home issue of BHG.

I suspect this was a massive undertaking by the magazine, since they had to sum up everything the magazine was about. Even the traditionalists would want to know what the future would look like, if only to sniff in distaste. The young moderns eager to breathe free in the burbs would want to know what was expected of a forward-looking person.

Here’s the plan.

Compared to how home had looked for decades, it was a great break, a clean break:

The inevitable white-brick hearth:

Complete with Olde American Indian Hearth Decoration, for some reason. Perhaps to soften all the newness and anchor the future to the past. Same with the duck art.

“Dramatic use of neutrals.”

And a photo backdrop standing in for actual suburbia.

My GOD those chairs.

The kitchen and dining area. They had a colored phone! They must be rich.

Another view of the kitchen. There’s not going to be enough counter space. There’s never enough counter space. But look at those kitchen light fixtures! How could you not feel as if you were living in the space age?

Mother, when I get my own room, may I have an antique corn popper for the wall?

But of course Joanie.

As the cover promised, you could see the Dream Home of ’57 in your town. There was a list of addresses. I checked the Minneapolis address:

It’s not there. St. Paul?

Compare to the photo that accompanied the list: that's it.

Did they print localized edition to show what the dream home looked like in your town? No. They printed one picture because all the dream homes had the same plan.

Tucson: it's turned around a bit, judging from the aerial view.


Elm Grove - Milwaukee, okay - flipped, with garage additions:

Flint, Michigan:

You have to wonder how many people living in these dwellings know they live in a dream of another era, one that had been specifically built to show off the new world.

I’d say there’s a good chance it’s zero.




Yes, it's going to be one of those Hiatuses. Sorry, but I love this stuff.

Quick domestic tableaus to pitch Eckrich Sausages. They advertised a lot.

Phyllis was wrong:

I love the Mom here. She just blasts the REAL.

An old trope: the mother-in-law who comes for a long visit. Guys were just stuck. She stayed around forever and you couldn't have sex with your wife.

We’re going for the Hey Mikey move here:

After this run, they went for an animated campaign, and it doesn’t work.

Who is this guy? Why is he trying to adulterate the product?

Wait a minute - did they say that the secret ingredient is MOM?



The company is still around.

Peter Eckrich arrived in America at the age of 17, eager to seek his fortune. In 1894, he opened a small meat market in Fort Wayne, Indiana. There he created many of the sausages he enjoyed growing up in Germany. Peter took great pride in his craft. His dedication paid off. The business grew and before long, Peter had opened up a second shop as well as a plant to supply his growing wholesale business. By 1932, Eckrich meats were nationally recognized for their great taste and supreme quality.

They’re owned by Smithfield, which means they’re owned by China.


We conclude with this week's Hiatal Contest:

A 1924 newspaper contest that went on forever.

I couldn't find the answer key, so we're going to be on our own.