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Two in Tow & On the Go | The day the mail took flight

Raise your hand if you or the kids in your life have printed and colored my Gig Harbor post office coloring page yet.

… Anyone?

Because I absolutely did. Oil pastels, shading, the whole thing:

Tonya colors her own coloring page.

And yes, it was all part of my master plan. Muhahaha…

Just kidding. No evil laughter here. Just a surprisingly delightful story about how a tiny piece of Gig Harbor history ended up in my living room.

From coloring pages to cachets

In my last installment, “Two in Tow & On The Go | Let’s talk about snail mail,” I shared a kid-friendly crash course on the U.S. Postal Service. It was for the kids who don’t exactly spend their afternoons writing letters these days. We covered fun facts, hands-on activities, and yes, I even made a coloring page of Gig Harbor’s current post office on Judson Street using a sketch app.

That column got you thinkin’ about mail.

This one takes it a step further.

Because long before Forever Stamps and online tracking, Gig Harbor once went all in on getting its mail into the sky.

A procrastinator’s eBay scroll

My part in this story started last month during what I told myself would be a quick online scroll before folding laundry. (Famous last words.)

Halfway in, I stumbled across an eBay listing with a title so specific it felt like a dare from the “Buy It Now” button. For sale was a 1938 Gig Harbor “cacheted cover” envelope. It had a vintage blue-ink stamp design of the Gig Harbor Sandspit, an old ship, and some very cool typeface.

The back of the same envelope shows postmarks on May 19, 1938.

Except I wasn’t totally sure what I was looking at.

So naturally, I did what any reasonable, history-loving, harbor-exploring mom would do.

I bought it.

For $4.50.

The seller, @budgetcoverbox, specializes in postal history from all over the U.S. A niche? Yes. My new favorite corner of the internet? Also yes.

If you’re not deep in the stamp-collecting world (same), a “cacheted cover” derives from a French word for “seal.” To the postal service, this seal is applied to an envelope to mark it with a special design created to mark an event. In English, “cachet” appears to be both a noun and a verb in postal usages. Merriam-Webster says cachet is pronounced “ka-SHAY” and means a seal of approval “carrying great prestige.”

The Postal Service still uses cachets today. As far as the funny name goes (I will forever call them “Catch-its” in my head), it’s not like the post office people can call them stamps, because, well, they already have something else under that name.

1938 called. It wants you to mail a letter.

Back in 1938, the big to-do for the cachet we’re talking about today was National Air Mail Week from May 15 to 21. The idea came from the U.S. Postmaster General James A. Farley and President Franklin Roosevelt to celebrate the 20th anniversary of U.S. airmail service. Their ask was simple: every American should send at least one letter that week.

The slogan? “Receive tomorrow’s mail today.”

The public loved it.

Across the country, approximately 90 cities participated. Each created their own custom cachets to celebrate a local landmark or industry, hosted events, and arranged to sponsor pilots for one-day-only mail. More than 16 million letters nationwide were sent during that single week.

I reviewed National Airmail Week cachets from other cities and states online. Most sport line drawings of the town’s famous landmark or industry. Kind of like a little PR announcement to the world. The cachet designs were each carved into rubber stamps and applied with ink to envelopes (and probably postcards, too). And, when Airmail postage was applied, the letters were mailed during the special week from each of those towns.

A newspaper breadcrumb

The May 13, 1938, edition of The Peninsula Gateway that I accessed at the Harbor History Museum described the local excitement around the cachet with a preview of the design printed on the news page:

“Every air mail letter and card mailed during Air Mail Week, May 15 to 21, will be stamped with this Cachet. It will only be used during that week.”

The same article included part of a Lions Club address explaining the design:

“The local Gig Harbor air mail week committee has done much to bring the advantages of airmail before our people … Gig Harbor will have a cachet that is a special mark of distinction which is now being made. …

“… It was in 1841 when Gig Harbor was discovered. A small boat from the Vincennes called a Captain’s Gig was rowed into the harbor at that time and on account of the small size of the harbor compared to others it was called Gig Harbor. Our harbor having been discovered in 1841 we have a prime reason for centennial celebration just three years from now. The local committee is doing everything possible to make air mail campaign a success and reflect credit on our community which is never a laggard in public spirited activities which reflect credit on our people.”

Speaking of “a photograph of the entrance to Gig Harbor,” here’s a photo of the harbor’s entrance I took in 2024 from Old Ferry Landing. It has to be similar to the scene the cachet depicts. I transposed the cachet’s 1841 gunship and captain’s gig drawings on the photo just for fun:

“A nationwide Air Mail Campaign is on”

The Gateway reported earlier, in April 1938: “The goal set is one airmail letter from each citizen …” At least one committee formed. Schools held contests. Kids made posters.

And then came the big day. But in Gig Harbor, it was not on a runway. The plane landed … on a beach. On May 19, 1938, Tacoma pilot Bert R. Eckstein, manager of a local airport, landed a plane right on the rocky beach along the east side of the harbor, close to where the Pierce County Boat Launch off Randall Drive Northwest is today. Greg Spadoni marked the spot for us on this map:

Pierce County Assessor-Treasurer aerial base map. Red ‘X’ marked by Greg Spadoni.

And here’s a detail that gives the whole thing an even more old-school aviation vibe: just three months earlier, in February 1938, Eckstein had survived a terrifying crash while test-flying a plane over Tacoma. News reports wrote that his plane plunged 1,500 feet in a tailspin, leaving spectators horrified.

Only a quick correction by Eckstein at the last second meant he walked away from it with just a broken nose and cuts to his face. It sounds wild now, but back then? That kind of survival was quite the resume builder. The fact that he could crash like that and still be the guy trusted to land on a beach in front of a crowd and carry the town’s mail meant he was skilled.

Seattle postmaster George E. Starr gave him a one-time commission to fly the mail for Gig Harbor. The Gig Harbor Lions Club paid the bill. Several hundred people gathered to watch.

John Insel, acting postmaster, handled the mail at a temporary beach post office, assisted by deputy clerk Gladys Hunt. Eckstein carried 626 letters out of Gig Harbor that day.

And then, just like that, the plane lifted off for Tacoma.

“Air Pick-Up Gig Harbor, Wash”

For one day, Gig Harbor was part of something much bigger. And this envelope? It was part of that moment.

It’s stamped “Air Pick-Up Gig Harbor, Wash” with a May 19, 1938, date. It also carries Tacoma and Seattle postmarks from later that same day. This envelope made the trip.

Gig Harbor National Airmail Week official cachet on an envelope postmarked for air pick-up on May 19, 1938.

There’s no letter inside, which honestly adds to the mystery. Many of these were sent just to be part of the event. The envelope itself was the keepsake.

It’s addressed to “R. Beach” to the circa 1930s Mercedes Apartments building in Seattle’s Queen Anne neighborhood. No return address. No backstory (yet).

Just a quiet little artifact that somehow made its way back home. Now it’s sitting on my desk (aka a little side table next to the couch).

Kids, stamps, and tiny time machines

When I showed the envelope to Clara and Wyatt, they were … moderately impressed.

But then we talked about it.

About waiting days for mail. About how exciting that first airplane delivery must have felt. About how this exact envelope traveled from Gig Harbor to Seattle in a single day. In 1938.

That’s when it clicked. Because it’s not really about the envelope. It’s about connection. About a community that showed up, tried something new, and sent little pieces of itself up in the air and out into the world. 

Here’s another coloring page you can download, based off the cachet:

I keep thinking about a line from that 1938 newspaper, describing the effort as something that would “reflect credit on our community.”

And now, thanks to one $4.50 eBay find, we have proof. Stamped, addressed to the big city and now back in the harbor. I guess you never know what piece of your town’s story is waiting out there (even on a quick online shopping scroll).