Historical documents have an incredible way of transporting us back in time, offering glimpses into daily life from bygone eras. A few years ago, I came across a remarkable artifact: a check from the Bank of Florence, dated September 25, 1925, written by Robert Eldenburg to general store owner and my grandfather, C.C. Siegel. This simple piece of paper, now nearly 100 years old, tells us far more than you might expect about small-town life in the mid-1920s. Here are a few thoughts about what the check has to offer.
1. Small-Town Banking Was Personal and Community-Centered
The Bank of Florence represents the backbone of early 20th-century American commerce: the community bank. Unlike today’s massive financial institutions, banks like this one served specific localities and knew their customers personally. Banks began popping up in small communities across the United States in the first two decades of the twentieth century. The leaders of the banks were members of the local community with no linkages to larger entities or back by federal guarantees. Community residents would share assets and hope for a good return on their investment. Some worked, most didn’t. The Bank of Florence filed their articles of incorporation with the state and opened their doors in April 1918. Many residents of the small town contributed. The bank closed in 1934 during the Depression. To read more about the bank and others like it, read my previous post here.
2. General Stores Were the Amazon of Their Day
Carl and Roma Siegel’s general store was the commercial heart of Florence, Missouri. Roma shared many stories of their work and the essential role as a community gathering place, information hub, and a source for goods ranging from household necessities to farming supplies. They clearly carried boots that cost $3.75. Newspaper stories mention other items including razors, watches, tools and Hanes underwear, although the Siegel store had no need to place advertisements in the local newspapers. They were busy enough with a trusted local reputation.
Small town general stores are a thing of the past, although Florence kept hers for decades after my grandparents sold it. I remember going there in the 1970s when Ina Beggs had lots of nickel candy for us kids. General stores were so much more than a place to shop; they were a key element of community that big-box retailers and online shopping cannot replace. In the past store owners had to be knowledgeable about diverse product lines and to maintain personal relationships with suppliers and customers alike. I won’t mention the lack of knowledge in modern life because we have all had that experience when we tried to describe an item we seek to a store employee.
3. Check-Writing Reflected Trust and Status in 1925
This check reminds us that banking was once a deeply local affair. Several checks from Robert Eldenburg (1875-1939), a farmer who lived a half a mile south of Florence and one of the original bank directors, exist today. The careful penmanship visible on this check reflects educational standards and cultural expectations of the era. Clear, legible handwriting was considered a mark of education and professionalism, something that was carefully taught in schools.
While small town banks had proliferated by the mid-1920s, not everyone had checking accounts. This check represents a transaction between two established members of the Florence community who played important roles in the development and prosperity of the town.
4. The Design Tells Us About Mid-1920s American Values
The distinctive eagle logo and formal typography on this check reflect the patriotic sentiment and institutional pride of the mid-1920s. This was the height of the “Roaring Twenties,” a time of economic prosperity and cultural confidence in America, although small farming communities were heavily dependent on weather and markets for their crops. Banks invested in impressive designs for their checks and letterheads because these documents represented their reputation in the community. The attention to aesthetic detail including carefully chosen fonts – shows how much importance was placed on presenting a professional, trustworthy image during this prosperous era.
5. Paper Records Were Not Built to Last, Yet Endured
Ephemera is defined as paper items that were never intended to last through the ages. Yet, this check has survived for 100 years in relatively good condition. The paper quality and printing methods of 1925 will outlast those from the more recent decades which sometimes seem to fade away quickly. This durability raises interesting questions about our current digital age. While we generate more records than ever before, how many of our electronic transactions and communications will be accessible 100 years from now? This physical check serves as a tangible link to the past in ways that digital records may not be able to replicate for future generations.
The Bonus: A Window into America’s Past and Your Family Story
This single check from the Bank of Florence offers us a fascinating glimpse into American life during the mid-1920s – a time when communities were smaller, business was more personal, and financial transactions carried weight beyond their monetary value. It reminds us that behind every historical artifact lies a human story, and sometimes the most ordinary objects can teach us the most extraordinary lessons about how we lived, worked, and related to one another in times past.
We can even use it to spur us to write more stories about our family. Who might wear those boots, perhaps every day and given the economic hardship that was coming? The footwear might have been repaired repeatedly and passed down to a family member. Our stories don’t have to be dry facts alone. We can imagine and write a story.[1] Thinking about those boots might give us a little more insight into our people and what they endured and what their possessions meant to them. Think about that the next time you see an “unimportant” piece of paper. Its story may be far grander than its face value.
[1] Be a good genealogist/historian and make sure to note for future generations that this is a fictional story based on an element of the past—a check for boots.
This is Teresa Hartsock, Robert Eldenburg’s granddaughter. I never met my grandfather because he died in November of 1939. However my mother and I think my father told me grandpa only went to 3rd grade. He was self educated after that but desired to become an engineer and subscribed to engineering magazines. But as the youngest child he had to stay around and take care of his mom and dad. He subsequently inherited the farm.
My mom owned the bank building for awhile, supposedly she bought it to close the bar or one of them. She didn’t want my brother going up there. Lol
Thanks for this article Michelle. I had never before thought of small town banking 100 years ago, and how different it must have been- a far cry from the huge institutions we deal with nowdays. Tho I’ve been with my current bank over 50 years, I can only count a couple employees as aquaintences. Nothing remotely personal. I feel a bit like a dinosaur as I still use checks once in a while, as well as cash- instead of cards and payment apps.