Written by Al Meder

Airlines have issued playing cards for promotional purposes since the earliest flights.  This was very logical as the flights were slow with many stops required to get to a distant destination (and of course there was no digital entertainment in those days)  Originally, the airlines promoted their name and sometimes their aircraft on these early decks but in the 1940’s Jack and Heinz, an aircraft equipment manufacturer teamed up with Mid Continent Airlines, to do the first known joint advertising deck of playing cards.

Since then, such “cooperative advertising” has become quite common with many well-known brands including Pepsi, Coca Cola, as well as credit card and auto rental companies partnering up with airlines to provide free entertainment and the chance to promote their product along with the airline.

Sometimes the airline can get double mileage from promoting itself with another well known brand. The earliest joint advertising cards I’m aware of, is from the 1940’s when Jack & Heinz, aircraft equipment manufacturers teamed up with Mid-Continent Airlines based in Kansas City. Missouri with a dec k of playing cards with their details along with the Mid Continent Airlines logo.

For many years cigarette smoking was permitted on aircraft. As a result, it was inevitable there would be some joint advertising issues. Aer Lingus, the Irish airline had several early jet-age aircraft along with cigarette advertising. The top card is joint advertising with Kingsway Cigarettes and Aer Lingus. There were also several with join advertising with Gold Flake and Aer Lingus. Aer Lingus has issued a number of joint advertising cards.

Given today’s thinking, its hard to believe that this advertising was in the 1960’s and 70’s. But smoking was really in then. Today there are collectors who collect airline matchbooks and match boxes, as well as a good market for ashtrays with airline logos on them – all from that by-gone era.

In recent years airlines have teamed up with various companies to promote both the airline and the product.  The most prolific of these are the Coca Cola advertising which has appeared on playing cards issued by South West Airlines   Delta Express has issued three different decks in conjunction with Coca Cola.

A very elusive deck of cooperative advertising playing cards was issued by Continental Airlines “The Official Airline of Broadway” and featuring the Broadway show Forever Tango.   Continental Airlines on this deck of cards was listed as the “The Official Airline of Broadway.”

The cards above show representative examples of advertising that airlines have done in conjunction with advertisers.

The Pan American NFL design shown here is one of three designs that Pan Am did over a relatively short period. The two others promoted that Pittsburgh NFL franchise.

The Thifty Rent-A-Car advertising involved a new livery for the entire Western Pacific Airlines aircraft.

Western Pacific, operating from Colorado Springs is now defunct.

Credit Card companies have issued a number of joint advertising decks with airlines.  Continental Airlines have issued two decks advertising their association with VISA (Check) Credit Card.  Alaska Airlines, South West Airlines and Delta have also issued credit card decks.  Not pictured here are decks from United Airlines, and Frontier to mention a couple more.

While foreign destinations are typically promoted by the airlines to attract fliers to those markets, Cathay Pacific Airlines based in Hong Kong produced two different designs in concert with Ocean Park, and amusement center in Hong Kong.  No doubt trying to get in-bound passengers to visit Ocean Park while in Hong Kong.

Australian carrier QANTAS Airways and the maker of Jonnie Walker Scotch Whiskey coordinated and issued a joint advertising pair of playing card designs in the 1980s   Although there is no mention of the product being advertised the Johnnie Walker trademarked figure is.

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Written by Henry M. Holden

The skies in the 1950s were ruled by the radial piston engine airliners like the Douglas DC-7 and the Lockheed Super Constellation. And although the long-range Boeing 707 and the Douglas DC-8 jets were in production and soon to be enter the market, some airlines felt the need existed for a large, medium range turboprop airliner.

Lockheed began construction of this airliner in December 1955, with two firm orders on the books (one from American Airlines for 35 and the other from Eastern Airlines for 40) In all, 14 airlines U.S and international would order 170 Electras.

On December 6, 1957, the prototype Lockheed Electra flew, two weeks ahead of the initial flight of the Boeing 707.

The airplane was the second Electra. In the 1930s Lockheed had built an earlier aircraft named the Electra, a twin-engine aircraft that was over shadowed by the Douglas DC-3.

Eastern Airlines flew the Electra, designated L-188A, on its first revenue flight on January 12, 1959, and American Airlines followed on January 23 of the same year. The L-188C, with increased fuel capacity offered greater range, and went into service later in 1959.

Behind this new airplane were four years of research and more than $50 million in developmental courses. It had gone through 60,000 hours of wind tunnel tests, and everyone was sure it was the safest and best airplane ever manufactured. But nowhere in the 40,000 miles of blueprints and more than 7,000 mathematical calculations did a phenomenon called “whirl mode” appear.

The Electra looked like a regular airliner, except for the thick, 13-foot propeller blades, and the four large engine nacelles housing the General Electric/Allison 501–314 turboprop engines. The large exhaust nozzles extended to the trailing edge of the wings and hid much of the wing area.

The wings look small and stubby [they were only 5 1/2 feet shorter than the fuselage]. The wide fuselage made it one of the roomiest airliners of its time. Pilots soon got used to its appearance and came to respect the airplane. The Electra had incredible reserve power. One pilot said, “it climbs like a damn fighter plane! “

The Lockheed L-188 had excellent cockpit visibility, improved safety features and it was hailed by many as “a pilots airplane.“ Many airline officials considered the Electra a better all-around airplane then the Boeing 707. According to some, the Electra had more reserve power than any transport aircraft build to date.

Its safety features were state-of-the-art. For example, there was a single control for an engine fire: One pull feathered the prop, shut off the fuel and oil supply, armed the chemical fire extinguisher and discharged the CO2 bottles all in one-second. On older aircraft these four functions had taken up to 10 seconds.

But the promising new airplane begin killing people. On February 5, 1959, an American Airlines Electra crashed into the East River while on final approach to New York’s LaGuardia Airport. Sixty-five people were killed. Although the crash was eventually attributed to a combination of pilot error, bad weather and an unfamiliar altimeter, the crash stained the Electra’s reputation. That stain would soon spread.

It was September 29, 1959. Six crew members and 28 passengers, on Braniff Flight 542, from Houston to New York, were relaxing in the new Electra. It was a few minutes after 12 midnight, and a farmer in the rural town of Buffalo, Texas, had just shut off his TV. Suddenly, the sky outside his home turned an eerie yellow, and there was a continuous roar. The farmer and his wife ran out to the pasture, where they encountered small shards of aluminum raining down on them. His wife remarked it was raining.

But it wasn’t raining; it was aircraft fuel. When the farmer shown a flashlight into a tree he could see a large chunk of metal. On it were the words “Fly Braniff.“ What caused this brand-new airplane to disintegrate over Buffalo, Texas?

It was March 17, 1960, and the CAA was still piecing together the tragedy when Northwest Airlines flight 710, another Electra, bound from Minneapolis to Miami, made a routine scheduled stop at Chicago. The Electra took off bound for Miami with 56 passengers, 33 men, 23 women, one infant, and six crew. The Electra had settled into a normal flight, cruising above the cloud cover at 18,000 feet. At 1p.m. over Tell City, Indiana, something happened.

Witnesses on the ground heard tearing sounds in the sky. Several saw the thick fuselage of the Electra emerging from the clouds. The entire right wing was missing, and only a stub of the left-wing remained attached to the fuselage.

The airliner seemed to float for a while, according to some witnesses, defying the laws of gravity. But then it dipped, driving straight down, trailing white smoke and pieces of aircraft. It telescoped into a soybean field at an estimated 618 mph. The aircraft disintegrated on impact, creating a smoking hole that was 60 feet deep. There were no bodies. Rescuers found nothing at the impact site except scraps of metal that were not much larger than a spoon. But 11,000 feet away they found the left wing.

This was, beyond alarming. In a period of less than six months, two brand new Electras lost their wings and disintegrated with much loss of life. Could it have been severe clear-air turbulence (CAT) or was there something drastically wrong with these airliners? One week earlier the airframe, with only 1800 hours had undergone a major inspection. The captain, Edgar E. LaParle had 27,523 hours in his logbook. What had gone wrong?

Meetings were held with the recently formed FAA, which was at the time headed by Elwood R. “Pete” Quesada, the legendary Air Force general, pilot, and aviation authority. The ensuing crisis was fueled by rumor and innuendo, and Quesada was on the hot seat. When he hesitated to ground the L-188 some said it was because of a former employee relationship he had with the manufacturer. Quesada’s actions and inactions would become as controversial as the L-188 itself.

Pressure to ground the airplane mounted quickly, and the flying public avoided the 96 Electras already flying (only one European airline, KLM, initially operated the type). The airline experience up to a 35-percent dip in the loads on the aircraft, a catastrophic loss of revenue in an industry where a 10-percent decrease is damaging.

But the Braniff Electra had not disintegrated, and the painful reconstruction had begun. And as they pieced together the wreckage, a clue emerged. It was something alarming. Shards of what appeared to be the left wing were found some distance from the rest of the wreckage. Could this tragedy have been caused by a severe clear air turbulence (CAT)?

The public had lost faith in the Electras and the media was calling for the FAA to ground the airplane, and the sick jokes didn’t help.

“I’d like a ticket on the Electra to New York!” The passenger reportedly said to the ticket agent.

“We don’t sell Electra tickets; we sell chances,” the agent answered, according to the story. And then there was the Eastern AirLines Electra where flight attendants were reportedly wearing phony stewardess wings with the wings broken off.  Or National Airlines: “Look Ma, No Wings!” Electra service to Miami.

All tests seem to indicate the Electra was basically safe and airworthy at slow speeds. Three days after that Tell City crash, the Feds instead of grounding the Electras, ordered the Electras not to fly more than 275 knots (316 mph).slowed down to the speed of a Connie or a DC-6. The representatives from the from the Northwest accident investigation team reminded the FAA that 275 knots is the speed at which the Braniff Electra was flying when it broke up. The FAA then reduced its top speed to 225 knots (259 mph). The speed restriction was arbitrary and imposed to give the public more confidence in the airplane. But it didn’t.

It would be an economic disaster to ground the whole Electra fleet. PSA, for example at the time had only four airplanes in its fleet, all Electras. It was an admittedly risky gamble, but the FAA allowed the Electra to fly, but at a much slower speed.

Passenger still hesitated to get on these “flying cylinders of death” as some call them. The airlines tried to get around the bad publicity. Eastern advertised it’s “Golden Falcon Service” and National Airlines advertised its “Jet Powered Service.”

Meanwhile, the investigations continued. Boeing volunteered staff and simulators to Lockheed. Douglas contributed engineers and equipment. The investigation, occurring in the early 1960s, was the first serious use of computer stress analysis in the field. NASA attempted to re-create the conditions in its wind tunnel.

The Electras were flown in every possible form of turbulence. Test pilots rammed it through the Sierra Madre Mountain’s airwaves over and over again. The Electras were put through every possible flight maneuver that may cause a wing failure. Still nothing!

Basically, the problem was a high speed aircraft in a conventional design. The Electra’s powerplants were housed in four enormous engine nacelles protruding far forward of the straight stubby wing. It was the two outboard engines that were involved in the Electra’s destruction.

Then in May 1960, NASA announced the cause of the accident that took 97 lives. Wing vibration, or flutter, is inherent in the design and is expected. In engineering terms, there are more than 100 different types of flutter, or “modes”, in which metal can vibrate. The mode that destroyed the Electra’s wing was called a whirl mode.

Whirl mode was not new, nor was it a mysterious phenomenon. Its a form of vibration inherent in rotating machinery such as oil drills, table fans and an automobile’s driveshaft.

The theory was devastating simple. A propeller has gyroscopic tendencies. Engine turbines spin at 13,820 rpm and the propellers at 1,280 rpm. These forces are designed to stay in a smooth moving plain of rotation unless displaced by a strong external force, (just as a spinning top can be made to wobble if a finger is placed against it).

Now suppose a force drives the propeller upward. The stiffness that’s part of the nacelle’s structure promptly resists the force in a downward motion. The propeller continues to move in one direction, but the rapidly developing whirl mode is vibrating in the opposite direction. The moment such a force is applied to an engine, it starts a chain reaction. The propellers normal plane rotation is disturbed, sending inharmonious forces back to the wing. The result, if not checked, is a wobbling effect that begins to transmit its motion to a natural outlet: the wing. The wing now begins to flex and flutter, sending discordant forces back to the engine-prop package, which in turn creates more and violent vibrations, feeding the mode new energy. It took less than 30 seconds for the energy to separate the wing.

Whirl mode did occasionally develop in propeller-driven airlines. It was always encountered by the powerful stiffness of the entire package, the nacelles in the engine mounting, and the truss holding the engine to the wing. This usually isn’t a problem. But on examination of the Electras engines, investigators found that something caused the engine loosen and wobble causing a severe whirl mode.

Investigators discovered that the engine mounts weren’t strong enough to damp the whirl mode that originated in the outboard engine nacelle. The oscillation transmitted to the wing caused severe up-and-down vibration, which increased until the wings separated.

On the Braniff Electra, they discovered an over speeding prop that produced a particular sound. When a tape of the sound was played to the crash witnesses they verified the sound. Examination of the wreckage found loose and wobbly prop on the left wing’s outboard engine. The world mode caused from the over speeding prop was unchecked by the engine mount.

The lucky few who deplaned the Northwest Electra in Chicago told investigators about experiencing a “hard landing.” Tell City had reported CAT. Investigators concluded that the combination of the hard landing and the CAT weakened in the Electras outboard engine mounts. When the pilot tried to pull up and compensate for the turbulence a whirl mode followed, tearing off the already weakened wings.

Lockheed began a retrofit program called LEAP (Lockheed Electra Adaptation Program). All Electras had their wings strengthened, the engine nacelles reinforced and mount, which was ordinarily a bar, redesign to a strong “V”-shaped to withstand more stress.

Electras took to the skies with restored confidence. And then on October 3, 1960, an Eastern Airlines Electra departing Boston for New York, crashed, killing all 72 aboard. Again, a cry went up to ground Electras but this crash was different. A large number of English starlings had been ingested into the Electra’s wide engine intakes. This caused the engines to flame out. The plane lost lift stalled and fell into Boston Bay. Although this problem was serious for all airliners it wasn’t associated with the Electra’s design.

But there were more Electra crashes. On September 14, 1960, an American Airlines Electra landing at LaGuardia airport tore across the Grand Central Parkway where it came to a stop, upside down. Miraculously all aboard survived. Then on September 17, 1961, another Northwest Electra crash near Chicago, killing 37 people.

Neither crash was the result of a design or structural flaw. The first involved excessive landing speed and a skid; the second caused by an improperly placed aileron cable.

The majority of the Electras were retired from the major airlines by 1975, but Eastern Air Line’s retired the last one on November 1, 1977. Today the remaining Electras continue as services charters, sprayers and freighters.

In 1958, the U.S. Navy replaced their aging fleet Neptune anti-submarine warfare and maritime patrol aircraft with the Lockheed P-3 Orion. Name for the winter constellation of the mighty hunter, the Orion was retrofitted from the Lockheed Electra.

The initial P-3 was modified from the third Electra airframe. While based on the same design philosophy as the Lockheed L-188 Electra, the aircraft was structurally different with seven feet (2.1m) less fuselage forward of the wings and military additions such as wing hard points, nose radome and a distinctive tail “stinger” for detection of submarines by magnetic anomaly detector.

The Navy still flies the P-3 Orion over the long-range landplane and the antisubmarine platform.

In June 1988, the U.S. Customs Service welcomed to first three Airborne Early Warning aircraft (AEW) into its fleet. They use it as a long-range radar detection platform to perform on the southern U.S. border, Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean. The aircraft is a distinctive 24-foot diameter rotodome fuselage. It is coupled with an APS-138 radar system. The Customs P-3 also comes in a second variant without the dome (Slick). The dome can detect targets over land and water in an encompassing 196,250 mi.² per 360° sweep. It can remain airborne for up to 14 hours.

According to Robert Sterling, author of “The Electra Story” Lockheed had made the decision to close the production line March 17, 1960 – just hours before the Tell City crash. Sales had dried up because airlines decided to wait for the short haul pure jets on the drawing board. Once the BAC-111, 727 and DC-9 went into service passengers didn’t want anything to do with props.

The two publicized in-flight breakups in the first 16 months of service – Sept 1959 and March 1960 – gave the plane a similar ‘reputation’ as the Comet, the Electra was in trouble. Initially it did not sell well overseas. There was strong competition for turbo prop airliners from several manufacturers.

Lockheed shut down the assembly line after only 170 airframes completed with huge losses, estimated at over $50 million. Production ended in 1961, just three years after introduction.

According to the Lockheed L-188 Electra Wikipedia.org site, the Electras went on to fly for more than 29 different airlines as freight dogs, sprayers and charters for decades.

On September22, 1978, a U.S. Navy P-3B Orion msn 185-5199 registration 152757 went down because of a suspected whirl mode. It is the only military Orion lost to the phenomenon known as whirl mode.

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Written by Brian Barron

September 30, 2018 marks 50 years since the “Queen of the Skies” made her first public appearance at Everett, Washington.  She would take off into the heavens and into our hearts a few short months later.

The 747 would fundamentally change the course of commercial aviation and opened the feasibility of air travel to the masses.  50 years later, the 747 is still an integral part of the world’s Airline and Cargo fleets.

From a Safety perspective, the 747 presented many challenges that had never been considered before.  It was the first double aisle jet, the first to regularly carry up to 500 people.  In order to meet FAA and other world authority certification, a full Jumbo would need to be evacuated within 90 seconds.

A tall challenge for Boeing indeed.  In order to meet the goal, the 747 featured double lane slides as well as the first over wing mounted slide installation.   With 10 main deck doors and 20 slide lanes, this was the only way to meet the strict evacuation requirements

In the early days, 747 Upper Decks were largely limited to lounge use and often were not certified to be occupied by passengers during routine take-off and landings.   All early 747’s featured a spiral staircase to access the Upper Deck.  While these were certainly elegant for the day and age, they were not the easiest to maneuver, especially in turbulence or an emergency.    Primarily installed for Flight Deck crews, 747 Upper Decks did feature a narrow single lane slide exit.  Nearly 5 stories high, using this slide would be a frightening experience for even a seasoned traveler.

We will now explore first/early issue 747 safety cards from the first generation of operators focusing on 747-100/200 aircraft.

Pan Am was the launch customer for the 747 and the first card was appropriately issued in January 1970, the same month of entering commercial service.

This 14 page booklet was mostly text with some graphic illustrations.   This would be the standard until 1975 when Pan Am changed to a more graphics based cards

For a brief time in 1970-71, Pan Am issued a larger and more colorful 747 Safety Card. This illustration from this September 1970 card shows the main level evacuation plan as well as door operation.

National Airlines largely followed Pan Am’s booklet format for its 747 cards

The other launch customer was TWA, and the first to fly the Queen domestically between LAX and JFK in February, 1970.

TWA used the 747 launch to introduce a new safety card design.  Prior to 1970, all TWA cards were text heavy with limited illustrations.

The 747 was a Top hinged plastic folder that was heavy of graphics and limited on text.  This is the January 1970 release.   These cards were used for many years with the same 1-70 date.  A unique collectible is the version of this card Printed In Italy.

TWA’s new graphic style apparently made an impression on other early 747 operators as they decided to adapt the TWA style for their own first issue cards.

This included Northwest Orient, who was the third 747 operator from the U.S. and the first to fly the Jumbo across the Pacific.  In 1989, Northwest would also be the launch carrier for the most popular variant of the 747, the 747-400.

Others to use the TWA style include Aer Lingus –Undated card – from ca 1971 [all 4 panels shown]

Air India – Undated ca 1972.   Note the Flight Attendant in Indian dress

Braniff International – which christened their Jumbo as 747 Braniff Place. This card is dated August 1975

EL AL – Undated ca 1972

Other early U.S. operators generally stayed fairly close to their established Safety Card formats

Delta Air Lines – October 1970 issue.  Delta first flew a 747 in late 1970 and flew the last passenger flight by a major U.S. Carrier in December 2017.   However, Delta’s 747 operation is not continuous, operating -100’s from 1970-1977 and then not again until flying -400 series from 2009-2017 following its acquisition of Northwest Airlines

United Air Lines – July 1970 issue – United had the longest continuous 747 operation of any U.S carrier from 1970-2017.

Continental Airlines – May 1970 issue.  Like Delta and National, Continental’s initial 747 operation lasted only for a few years.   The 747 proved too big for these smaller legacy carriers and they quickly found out that tri-jets such as the DC-10 or L-1011 were a better fit for their operations.

American Airlines first 747 card touted the Queen as the “Astroliner”.  This terminology would later be changed to LuxuryLiner. This card is undated from ca. 1970

Air Canada issued their 747 in the same format as its other cards of the time, although the 747 was a smaller sized Tri-Fold than that used on the DC-8’s .  This card was issued March 1971.

We now cross the Atlantic and review the first issue of Europe’s national carriers.

Lufthansa was the first foreign airline to receive a 747 in spring of 1970 and now holds the title of longest continuous 747 operator.  A title it will likely keep as it operates the newest member of the 747 family, the 747-8i.  This card is from 1972

Lufthansa’s first card was interesting as it featured black and white demonstration photos, including the then unique two lane and over wing slide utilization

Next up is BOAC, the predecessor to today’s British Airways.  This undated ca. 1971 card is a large A4 folder with thick loose lamination.

Air France’s first 747 card would follow their common format of the era.  These early cards were printed on Thick Vinyl making them very sturdy.

Two of my favorite 747 cards are the first issues from Alitalia and Iberia.

Alitalia introduced its iconic livery in conjunction with the 747 entering service.  It also changed its Safety Card format to a heavily graphic style.  This card is from July 1970

Iberia’s first card was an 8 panel plastic bound safety card featuring colorful illustrations. Iberia would continue to use this unique design until shortly after their livery changed in 1977. This card is ca. 1971

Iberia was one of the few early 747 operators to show detailed instructions for the Upper Deck door operation.

TAP Air Portugal top-folding card ca. 1972.

In the 1960’s and 1970’s, SAS, Swissair and KLM had a collective maintenance agreement for their new widebody 747’s and DC-10’s.   Unfortunately, for the collector this agreement resulted in the very generic Safety card without airline name or logo used by all three carriers.   These cards are known among collectors as the KSSU Format (KLM, SAS, Swissair union)

We move now to Asia.  While 747-400 operations were dominated by the Asian carriers, the early 747 was not in high demand and early operators only ordered a few examples until the economic boom of the mid 80’s

Japan Air Lines was the first Asian based carrier to fly the 747.  Their safety cards of this era had a detailed floorplan as evidenced by this ca. 1970 example

Korean Air Lines would introduce the 747 in 1972.   Their card was similar in design to JAL but without the detail.  A unique feature of Korean’s early 747 operation was the location of a Cargo compartment in the last section.  As such exit from door 5 was only possible on the right hand side.

In 1972, Singapore Airlines was a new airline from a very small country.  Their acquisition of 747’s was considered a big risk for such a small country.  Needless to say, the risk worked out and SIA is now one of the most prestigious airlines in service today.  The naming of type as 747B was commonly used by early -200 operators.

Next we move down under to QANTAS.  QANTAS was unique in that it operated an exclusively 747 fleet between 1979 and 1985.   This card is undated and would be from ca. 1972-74

In the early 1970’s, the only airline in Africa that had the traffic to justify a 747 operation was South African Airways.   They would be the only 747 airline based in Africa for nearly a decade and the only African airline to operate 4 versions of the Jumbo.  Their first 747 safety card (ca. 1972) was this large placemat sized example.

Thank you for reading this brief history of early 747 safety cards and celebrate the airlines that flew the Queen from the beginning.

I am always looking for ideas/themes for upcoming Safety Card articles.  Input from the Safety Card community is always welcome.

Thank You

Brian Barron

Please note that this first appeared in the American Stamp Dealer & Collectors Magazine, #97, February 2016
Written by Arthur H. Groten M.D.

It is no secret that I am enamored of all things related to commercial aviation. In the May 2013 issue of American Stamp Dealer & Collectors Magazine #70, I wrote about U.S envelopes preprinted to indicate airmail service. I can show some more, this time adding foreign ones. They speak for themselves and I will let them do that after a few brief comments.

The designs seem to fall into three basic categories: hand-drawn, those made by airline companies and those either generic or specific to a non-airline company.

Hand-drawn ones have a charm all their own. They are usually made for non-philatelic purposes, manifesting the sender’s imagination. They are direct descendants of the 19^th century British pen and ink covers (whose artistry is usually quite a bit more evident). The 1939 cover was carried from Belgium on the first flight from France to the U.S. The use of an air etiquette to help define the shape of the drawing shows some design sense. First flight covers rarely have such flamboyance.

Cpl. Holmes, stationed at Hawaii, received a rather striking cover from New York. It even has a tied-on Christmas seal.

A charming pen drawing graced the upper left corner of a 1946 cover from Belgium; the sketch shows a Belgian factory and an American skyline.

Something seen from time to time is the usual red and blue airmail border being added by hand. That makes sense in this return card for which the sender wanted air service.

Figures 5-8 show four generic envelope designs: U.S. 1931, Denmark 1950, Guatemala 1937, and Mexico 1945 with extra pizzazz from the censor label.

Envelopes produced for use by airlines tend to be a bit more eye-catching: Brazil Condor 1934 (Figure 9), Brazil Panair 1939 of which there are a number of varieties (Figure 10), Paraguay Panagra/Panair carried on first Pan American flight from Asuncion to Rio (Figure 11), Peru Lufthansa 1938 (Figure 12) and Indochina Air Orient 1930 (Figure 13).

Figure 14 is a rather interesting outlier. The Uruguay 1931 envelope specifies that there was an additional fee of 50¢ to Comision Gral. De Aeronautica (General Commission not specifying an airline) for air service. The image at the upper left is typical of the remarkable graphics seen in Uruguay at this time.

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