Publetters — Bar patrons are taking up a pen along with a pint

Michael McGettigan always writes his letters using a fountain pen, the ink flowing unevenly onto linen stationery. When he pauses to think, he is careful to pull the nub away from the page to avoid unseemly spots. If this were the start of a movie — perhaps one titled The Art of Letter Writing — the camera would begin with a tight shot of McGettigan's hand moving across the paper. It would then pull back so his upper body could be seen, his face pensive, thoughtful under a shock of white hair.

Then it would pull back again, with the viewers expecting to see a Downton Abbey-worthy country house in the early 1900s, McGettigan quietly seated at his rolltop desk with a glass of sherry, his man servant waiting to post his latest missive.

How wrong they would be.

McGettigan was sitting on a bar stool at a two-person round table inside Paddy's Old City Pub, a pint glass of beer before him. The air was thick and smoky, the ashtrays along the bar filled with new and finished cigarettes. It was loud, with a TV squawking and the rumble of conversations.

And it was simply perfect for Publetters.

Since July, McGettigan has hosted free letter-writing events in city bars. He provides the stamps. His friend Nestor Torres, owner of Casa Papel, provides the stationery. The alcohol, at times, provides the inspiration.

"I do a lot of analog stuff," explained McGettigan, who has hosted Type-In events, encouraging fellow fans of the typewriter to join him in clacking away on the machine. "Things in the world have gotten as fast as they can. This is a good way to slow down."

And writing a letter by hand conveys more emotion than any on-screen text or letters made by an impersonal printer ever could. Tears can't smudge a keyboard. They can affect ink.

"The electric guitar didn't replace the acoustic guitar," he said. "If you really want to get somebody sobbing, you need an acoustic guitar. It's not obsolete. It's just different."

Publetters was born from a conversation McGettigan had with a friend. He mentioned it to Torres, whose shop is near McGettigan's business, Trophy Bikes, in Northern Liberties. They partnered and hosted their first gathering at Doobie's on Lombard Street.

Since then, more than 200 Publetters have gone out into the world. Pope Francis gets sent at least one letter addressed to him during each gathering, and perhaps there will be more with his planned trip to the city in 2015. Local politicians, like Mayor Michael Nutter, have been sent notes. A list of popular address requests includes President Obama, Eddie Izzard and John Oliver. Letters have gone to Ireland and Australia — those take three first-class stamps.

McGettigan didn't think many people would attend the most recent Publetters, held at Paddy's on a frigid night two weeks ago. But at least six people showed up specifically to write and others at the bar joined in. Around 7 p.m, McGettigan held up a glass filled with writing instruments and announced it was time to begin. "Start your pens," he intoned.

A variety of stationery types, provided by Casa Papel, was stacked on the pub's front-window ledge. There was a classic ivory linen stock, a smooth Italian-made paper bearing a watermark, more textured sheets made with milkweed. But even Torres, who makes his living in the paper business, notes the stationery is secondary.

"Paper is just the medium for travel," McGettigan said. "It's the words that matter."

Torres has begun writing regular letters to his 5-year-old son.

"To sit down and write a letter is special," he said. "It's a treasure."

Natalia Ugarte, who was jotting a note to her mother in Florida, agreed. She saves all of her birthday cards and keeps three special missives — one each from her mother, father and grandmother — in her bedside table.

"I read them all the time," said Ugarte, 33. "When I'm sad, I'll pull them out."

That's something that can't be done with, for example, a floppy disk. McGettigan said it's a good thing his wife has a printed copy of her dissertation because the original is on floppy disk. He recalled an old commercial with a person presenting a cigar box filled with a collection of saved letters to the delight of other family members. In the another scene, the person presents a cigar box of floppy disks, which are then thrown into the trash.

One of his most cherished letters? A photocopy of the saved carbon from a thank-you note his father wrote in 1954. It was sent to the Philadelphia Police Department and the officers who had taken his pregnant wife to the hospital where, an hour later, McGettigan was born.

"Dad wrote, 'My understanding is that Officer Reed, Badge 5446, is, in every respect, courteous, confident and professional in a very trying time. I would appreciate you adding this to his service record, conveying my thanks to him,'" McGettigan said. "I joke it was my first brush with the law."

McGettigan writes at least one letter per event. He has a14-year-old niece in New York who "barely speaks to me," but she will write to him. They've become regular correspondents.

"In one letter, she made this great distinction about music. 'If I'm feeling bad, it's Old Crow Medicine Show. But if I want something to pound in my ear, it's Green Day,'" McGettigan recounted, clearly delighted by this small bit of inside information. "That alone was worth the price of writing letters again."

Growing up, Candice Byrd wrote letters to her favorite musicians. She ticked off a few artists, all of whom would surrender an eyetooth now for some fan mail: New Kids on the Block, Paula Abdul, Vanilla Ice. But on this night, she wrote to her 93-year-old grandmother who lives in Brookhaven, Delaware County.

"I wrote it in big letters so she could see it," Byrd, 33, said. "I just hope she checks the mail."
When it was time for Byrd to choose a stamp, McGettigan pulled out a binder of first-class postage options and flipped through the pages. "Ray Charles?" he offered. "Batman?"

"She wouldn't know Batman," Byrd said.
More pages, more stamps: Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin stamps were also deemed beyond grandma's comprehension.

The eventual winner was a stamp featuring a bird, fitting for someone with her moniker. Byrd sealed the letter and affixed the stamp. McGettigan pulled out a stamper and marked the envelope's back with a personalized "Publetters" mark.
Cinnamon J. Bowman walked up to find a stamp. She said she enjoyed the rituals of sending a letter in the mail: licking the envelope, carefully writing the address, picking the stamp. (She went with Janis Joplin, having once dressed as the late singer for a party.)

She has a collection of treasured correspondence, including a note of apology from the grade-school classmate who punched her, and gossipy bulletins on scrap paper handed to her under high school desks. A Paddy's employee, she decided to stay on after her shift after observing a previous Publetters event from behind the bar.

"Everyone was talking about writing and what they were into and it didn't matter who they were writing to or what they were writing. It brought people together," said Bowman, 41. "I always like that."