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Julie Vognarand it was real simple. The American Friends (Quakers) Service Committee drew up this sheet of paper which I signed, saying all proceeds from my sale of cards on a particular Saturday were theirs. I set up at a table at the--Holliday Inn?--weekly show on University Avenue in Berkeley, my daughter counted the money, and my friend Hazel drew the poster. I made $965! (nobody trusted me enough to buy the few old things I bought--except Dennis King, who swooped up a creased Cobb red background). Then I went out and bought two money orders, and took them way the hell over to the other side of San Francisco--oh, it was for the famine in Bangladesh--and gave them to the A.F.S.C. They asked if I wanted to contribute the money in anyone's name, and I said my father(who later reported that he'd gotten a card saying it had been contributed "in honor" of him--which neither of us liked.)
Since I wasn't earning enough money to be taxed, there was no problem about tax deductions. A year later, a lady I had met there showed up, asking if i would like to sell morew cards for them. I said no, I really was a collector, not a charity.