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Fully licensed
Boy's plate collection spans globe
By Marie Rohde
of the Journal Sentinel staffMarch 2, 1998 Glendale -- Ask Joey Kahl whether he'd like a Beanie Baby and he responds with a bored "no way." Baseball, basketball and football cards generate similar disinterest in this 7-year-old.
But offer him an old license plate from Arkansas and he's likely to turn cartwheels.
One wall of his tidy bedroom is covered with colorful license plates from his favorite places in the world -- 42 states, nine Canadian provinces, and some nations in Africa and Europe as well as a couple exotic South Sea islands. At last count there were 119 in all, not including a couple of license plate key chains.
He's acquired his collection almost for free by writing letters to bureaucrats, dignitaries and politicians and a few from friends and relatives who have learned of his passion.
Joey's hobby began a couple of years ago when he and his parents went to Stevens Point for a Suzuki camp for the violin, one of his other passions.
"In the parking lot I saw a whole bunch of different kinds of plates," Joey recalled. "There was one from Saskatchewan and I thought, that's cool, I'd like to go there."
Joey's mother, Carol Waldvogel, said the interest in license plates helped her son develop a love for geography.
Soon he began looking to the map or globe to find where various license plates were from. He's become so adept that he can point out places such as Fiji or Prince Edward Island in a nanosecond. He's got license plates from both.
His first real plate was acquired in Florida.
"We went on vacation to Florida, and my dad let me buy it at a flea market," Joey said, adding as an afterthought that the family also visited Disney World.
The next treasure came when his dad, Jonathan Kahl, went to Mexico on business. The real boon came when the parent of a friend found a book of license plates and the addresses for many governmental agencies in charge of such things.
Armed with the book, Joey began writing to agencies, telling of his hobby and asking whether he could get a license plate. The plates came pouring in, most with letters delighted that their state, province or country is Joey's favorite place, a standard line in his letters.
So what is Joey's favorite place? With absolute innocence he responds that each place is his favorite. Then he turns to his globe and begins pointing out where these places are.
Most unusual plate? Probably the one shaped like a polar bear from Canada's Northwest Territories urging visitors to explore the arctic. Most exotic? Maybe the Philippines. But each is special, Joey says.
The oldest came from a friend of Joey's grandparents. They found a rusty Arizona license plate from 1938 in the desert and donated it to the collection. Some students of Joey's father, a meteorology professor at UWM, were in Ireland recently when the something odd happened: a license plate fell off a moving beer truck, providing another gem for Joey.
For a while, there was a simple pattern to Joey's letter-writing campaign. He just followed the book given him by his friend, using a pencil and a lined tablet favored by elementary school children.
The inspiration for other letters was more subtle. Take Togo, that west African nation that most college graduates couldn't find with an atlas.
"I was waiting for a music lesson, and I decided to write a letter," Joey explained. "Togo was one I remembered how to spell."
A neat ring binder holds each of the responses he has received. He also writes a thank-you letter for each response, whether or not he gets a plate.
Two senators, Chuck Hagel (R-Neb.) and Craig Thomas (R-Wyo.), sent the expired plates from their personal cars. Hagel told Joey to call when he gets to Nebraska.
Sen. Thad Cochran (R-Miss.) said he was sorry that he couldn't help but would be happy to contact his friend Gov. Kirk Fordice, who came through.
Sen. Robert F. Bennett (R-Utah) sent not only a license plate but a pass to the Senate chambers.
Not much luck with Cuba. Joey wrote his letter, had a friend of his father's make a Spanish translation, and then recopied it precisely before sending it off to Havana. Sorry, said the response. Cuba doesn't license cars.
It took a year for Ambassador Robert E. Gribbin to respond from Africa. He had a pretty good excuse. Gribbin had been in the Central African Republic but was moved to Rwanda before receiving Joey's letter. It was returned to Washington before being forwarded.
"Generally speaking," the ambassador ruefully wrote, "plates stay with the vehicles until they are wrecked."
Some have sent brochures with the history of their state's license plates. Some say they charge for license plates, something Joey says he can't afford.
A few have sent plates stamped "sample." Two of those -- the ones stamped SAM PLE -- have confused Joey's 4-year-old sister, Samantha.
"She keeps taking them because she thinks they have her name on them," he said of his sibling, also known as Sam.
The only American plates Joey is missing are those from the District of Columbia, Tennessee, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Montana, Maine, Kentucky, Delaware and Arkansas. He also is looking for Canadian plates from Alberta, British Columbia and Saskatchewan.
What will Joey do if he completes his collection?
"I've got some little flags, and my dad helped me build a holder for them," Joey said. "Maybe I'll get some more."