The downside of federal safety protocols is we'll never get a story like this again.
From WaPo:
Mary Foss Starn and several of her friends were packing eggs into cartons at an Iowa factory in 1951 when they hatched a goofy plan to liven up their workday.
The young women decided they would each sign their names and hometowns on a few eggs they picked at random, slip them into cartons and send them out like notes in a bottle to see if anyone responded.
I don't think I need to tell you that if a food worker did this today, she'd have the full might of the U.S. bureaucratic complex bearing down on her guns drawn:
But this was the 1950s! Nobody cared back then. So out the eggs went. And when the ladies never heard back about them, Mrs. Starn forgot about it and moved on with her life, getting married and having some kids.
Until last month, when a fellow posted on a Facebook group that he was in possession an egg literally with someone's name on it:
It was given to me by an elderly gentleman friend, around 20 years ago. He had found it in a dozen eggs he purchased, in New York City, back in 1951.
That checks out! Somehow, incredibly, the egg had not rotted or putrefied over the years. Maybe there was some sort of protective quality in the ink used by Mrs. Starn. (It was the 1950s. Who knows what was in the ink back then!)
The current owner of the egg, John Amalfitano, has been keeping it in a silver egg cup for the last 20 years. After posting about it on Facebook, he was put in touch with Starn, and the two spoke over the phone, finally bringing the egg's pen-pal purpose to completion.
Amalfitano put it best when he said:
"An egg might be a simple thing, but this has turned into such an uplifting journey."
Starn herself, meanwhile, is pleased: "I finally have my pen pal and it only took 72 years," she said.
We're very glad you finally got one, Mrs. Starn!
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