Category Archives: Dating Photographs

Lost Stories and Found Mysteries: Old Group Photographs

If you’ve spent any time researching ancestors, or the history of your town, or even history in general, you’ve likely come across old group photographs.  A workplace outing from long ago, an annual gathering of some institution or society, or maybe a family gathering.  If you’ve stared into the faces of those who gathered for the photograph, you’ll likely come across a familiar face of a grandparent or long-lost cousin and you’ll soon determine the likely connection that brought the photograph into your collection.  Sometimes, old group photographs provide a wealth of insight into your ancestors’ lives; sometimes, they create more questions.  Often, they do both.

The mystery you didn’t know you had 

Sometimes, you get lucky.  Sometimes, someone made the effort to identify the people in your old group photos.  And, sometimes, yes, they were wrong.  Among the photographs I inherited from my grandmother was this one, showing a group of school age children, with their teacher, outside their school.  On the back of this photograph, someone helpfully wrote that this photo showed my grandmother’s Colburn School class.  Given that she was born in 1904, that would date this photograph to about 1910-1912.  And, so it became family lore.  It was perfect, my grandmother (identified as the third from the right, in the top row), grew up only a few doors down from the school, on Lowell’s Lawrence Street.

A group of Lowell schoolchildren, with their teacher, in front of their schoolhouse

It was perfect, until I researched it – and tried to verify the description on the back of the photograph.  There was a problem.  The Colburn School, one of Lowell’s first and built in 1848, was certainly old enough to be my grandmother’s childhood school.  But . . . it was made of brick, as seen below.  My photograph clearly shows light-colored wooden siding covering the school’s exterior.

Lowell’s Colburn School – Lawrence Street

And so the mystery endures.  Among the followers of this blog, I know there are a lot of experts in Lowell history.  Does anyone have any ideas on when and where (in Lowell) this photograph may have been taken?  There is a chance that it’s much older than the 1910-1912 date I had originally assigned to it.

Only Half of the Story

Among the treasured stories in one’s family tree research are the tales explaining how your ancestors met – those sometimes chance encounters that seem to drive destiny – or at least the existence of entire families today.  As my family’s story goes, my maternal grandmother met my grandfather while she was performing in a Portuguese musical group, based in Lowell, Massachusetts.  As rumor had it, she was on the rebound from a bad break-up and my grandfather happened to be in the right place, at the right time.  Someone helpfully circled my grandmother’s head on the photograph I have to prove the story, included below:

A Lowell-Area Musical Group, Tied to the Local Portuguese Community, ca. 1930

The group, which may have had ties to Lowell’s St. Anthony’s Church, remains nameless in my records – which has thwarted my attempts to learn more about them and their members.  Is there anyone out there who has heard of any Portuguese musical groups, based on Lowell, Massachusetts, from the late 1920’s?

Photographs are windows into the past.  But, the details of the past become fuzzy with time, and often are lost as those who remember them leave us.  Even without knowing the full story behind old group photos, they make for interesting browsing – showing life as it was in those days now reflected in our family trees.  And, with a little bit of luck, sometimes, you can add some insight into your ancestors’ lives by learning about the groups they belonged to, and the friends and associations that they had.

Readers, do you have any old group photos that have added insight, or mysteries, to your family trees?

Dating Old Photographs – The Clues that Tintypes Hold, 1890

Most family historians have THAT box.  The box always looks roughly the same.  It’s the box that belonged to the toaster your mother had three toasters ago.  Or, maybe it’s a shoebox for a pair of long-lost boat shoes from Thom McAn or a gift box from Anderson Little (remember them?).  Maybe it’s a bag from a now-defunct department store like Stuarts or Caldor.  Not long after I took up genealogy in 1988, I began inheriting boxes and bags like those, and they all had lots of photographs – old ones.  There were some color photographs from the 60’s and 70’s, black-and-white photographs from the 40’s and 50’s, and older sepia-colored photographs beneath those.

The photographs from the latter half of the 20th century are easiest to identify.  Most times, I know the subject; if not, the bell-bottoms or dark wall paneling scream 1974 . . . and a well-placed beehive will strongly suggest the decade before that.  And, once you have an approximate date, it’s fairly simple to deduce that you’re staring at your second-cousin, or Uncle Freddy as a kid, or maybe you’ve uncovered that long-lost great-aunt no one has mentioned since Thanksgiving 1981.

As you move back in time, what gets harder to identify are the black-and-white photographs.  Some have dates printed along their white borders; others have dates stamped on the back.  It’s usually pretty easy to pick out grandparents as parents and parents as children.  Great-grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles can also be identified, if not on sight, then by context.

Then, you get to the most interesting photographs – the tintypes, the cabinet cards, and the carte-de-visite (CDV) photographs.  These are the photographs you wish you had had when your grandparents were alive to see them.  Sometimes, you can pick out some family resemblances and these provide valuable hints.  Sometimes, you get really lucky and someone, long ago, labelled the photographs for posterity.  That usually doesn’t happen.

So, what do you do?  In 1990 or so, I got a stack of tintypes (one appears above, to the left) from an aunt, who had gotten them from my grandmother 20 years earlier.  My Aunt had no idea who they were, and the small length of ancient string that had long kept them together wasn’t talking either.  At the time, I knew they were old – probably 19th century, but wasn’t really sure how to proceed.  I had researched some genealogy at that point and knew that that branch of the family had come to Lowell in 1869 from Manchester, England.  I also knew that tintypes like the one above spanned a fairly wide range of years, from 1852 to about 1905 or so.  So, I knew that the photograph could be either English or American and that the woman could be an ancestor from any one of three generations.  That wasn’t very helpful in helping me identify her.

I looked for more clues.  The photograph, like lots of others in the 19th century, was obviously taken in a studio – the odd tree-trunk-looking thing and the landscape backdrop weren’t going to fool me.  But, tintypes don’t carry photographers’ marks.  I guessed the woman’s age to be between 30 and 35, and she appeared to be wearing a ring on her right hand, along with a bracelet, necklace, and earrings.  With a range of 1852-1905 for the photograph, though, I still needed more clues to determine her identity.  Enter fashion.

It’s pretty easy to date photographs from the late 20th century, if you spend a moment studying what people are wearing, or how they’ve fixed their hair.  The same can be said for the 19th century.  The woman in the photograph wears a dress of a common pattern known as “windowpane check”; its sleeves are the easiest indicator of a date on the early side of 1890 – the tight sleeves begin precisely at the shoulder’s tip and portray none of the exaggerated fullness that the rather well-remembered leg-of-mutton sleeves would become known for as the 1890’s wore on.  Her hair is another indicator of the late 1880’s.  The bangs aren’t cut short or styled in the large curls popular in the earlier part of the 1880’s.  Instead, she wears her bangs in a style more prevalent right around 1890.

So, a quick study of fashion can get me a guess of, say, 1890, or so, but what if she wasn’t so well-to-do, and if her dress or hair was out of fashion at the time of the photograph?  I still see people trying to sport haircuts from the early 1990’s.  I needed a little more confirmation before I set about looking for women born around 1855 in my family tree.

I looked at the other photographs, and came across this one, in a different box.  I recognized the background immediately – the bridge, the mountains.  And, that same shaggy carpet is on the studio’s floor.  I put the two photographs next to each and decided I had a match.  Both photographs came from the same studio, most likely.  I was even ready to assume they had been taken on the same day.  Why?  If you look very closely at the first photograph, above, you’ll notice in the extreme lower-right corner, the same chair that the child in the photograph at the right is sitting on.  The photographer didn’t quite succeed in moving it out of the picture.  So, the woman from 1888 had a two-year-old child.  But, I still hadn’t solved the mystery of where the photograph had been taken.  From what I knew about the branch of the family, the most likely choices were Lowell, Massachusetts or Manchester, England.  Of course, there was a chance that the photograph could’ve been taken somewhere else entirely.

That’s when I found this carte-de-visite (CDV) photograph, at left.  Do you recognize the background?  I did too.  That’s even the same chair.  This game of matching was paying off.  On the back of the CDV was the photographer’s mark (right), which can be used to help date a photograph too.  Armed with a set of city directories, I quickly determined that the photographer, Napoleon Loupret was at 51 Central Street in Lowell, Massachusetts from 1885 to 1893.  Bingo – I had a probable date (1888 or so) and a city (Lowell, Massachusetts).  I also knew that I had a family, a woman, who was about 30 or so, who had children, born sometime between 1882 and 1890.

A List of Photographers in Lowell, Massachusetts 1886

When I first started researching this photograph, I had a hunch that the woman was my second-great-grandmother, and that the children were my great-grandmother and her older brother.  The age differences were just about right.  But – once I narrowed the date range to 1885-1893, and later to about 1890 – the ages no longer worked.  My great-grandmother was the youngest of her family, but born early enough that she would have been 12 at the time of the photographs, not 2 or 3 as the children pictured clearly are.  So, the search continues, and the mystery remains unsolved, but when I do uncover and add a woman to my family tree who was born around 1855, with children born in the late 1880’s, I’ll already have photographs that just may show what she looked like in life.

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Dating Old Photographs – The Price of Tea in Lowell, Massachusetts, 1917

Question: What was the price of a cup of chicken soup in 1915?

Answer: Ten cents a cup. Add some ham and eggs to that, and you should be prepared to part with the Barber quarter and Buffalo nickel burning a hole in your pocket.

If you’re feeling a little more adventurous or extravagant, you could always opt for, say, the cold tongue (for 15 cents) or the sirloin steak (for 35 cents). Even with a beverage, you should be able to escape with a bill totaling under one dollar.

As common wisdom informs us, a picture, in this case – the one below, is worth a thousand words.  Since I first came across this photograph several years ago, I’ve been fascinated by it.

Lowell, MA - Killpatrick Restaurant - ca. 1917

I first saw this photograph in 2004, when my Aunt Emily passed away. When her house was being cleaned out, the box containing this photograph, unopened for so many years, was almost discarded. Inside the box, for some long-lost coffee maker as I remember, the photographs were old, unlabeled, and almost exclusively represented her father’s family, the Foisys, who were no relation to us.

I quickly found this photograph among the pile of cabinet cards. At first glance, five men pose outside a restaurant – a long time ago – with their bill of fare, prices clearly shown. The name of the restaurant is probably obscured behind them, either on the windows, or more likely, on the board beneath the windows. The three men in the middle appear to be waiters – the jacketed men on each side might be managers, or owners. I remember assuming that the photograph was taken ‘someplace in New Hampshire’, since that’s where her paternal family was from.

But, with my genealogist’s/researcher’s mind, I wanted to know more. Who were they? Where were they? Was there a historical society, or a descendant of these men, who were seeking a photograph like this? No clues were included on the rear of the photo, and, by the time I got it, everyone had died. And my attempts at finding any related Foisy descendants for this, and the other Foisy photos, were unsuccessful.

For the next few years, I displayed the photo in my old photo collections, cognizant of the fact that I could not answer questions about its exact location or date, or even identify the men in the picture. (Well, I guess I knew at least one was probably a Foisy.) I eventually moved back to New England, and spent more time on my genealogy research; the long winters here are truly motivating for indoor hobbies. I soon focused on the art of dating photographs, and built some expertise in it. On one cold December day, I took a fresh look at the photograph.

Admittedly, one’s skill in dating photographs does not need to progress far before realizing that photos showing women’s fashions are much easier to date than those showing men’s. And there’s no exception in this photograph. The style of the photograph, the men’s hats, and the younger suited man’s tall collar all bespoke an early twentieth century timeframe to me, but without women in the photograph, this was a guess.

What really helped me was an inkling that one of the five men in the photograph was an uncle of my Aunt Emily and his name would have been Foisy. I knew her father to have been born in 1882; so, this too led me to an early twentieth century timeframe. But, how could I get his name?

I constructed a tree for the paternal Foisy side of her family, and through obituaries and census records soon found that she had several uncles. But the census records quickly showed that none of them were employed in the restaurant business in the Great War years. So, with that lead exhausted, I tabled the project for a while.

A few months later, I came back, and had the thought to check the WWI draft registration records, from 1917, and found Mitchell R. Foisy, who had been employed as a waiter for S. W. Killpatrick’s Restaurant at 30 Gorham Street in Lowell, Massachusetts. I now knew that one of the men in white was Uncle Mitchell. I also learned that Mitchell, who had been a boiler maker at the Boston & Maine Railroad car shop in 1920, was a waiter three years earlier, in 1917.  So, a career change was the culprit behind my earlier failure to find him.

Mitchell R. Foisy - WWI Draft Registration Card, 1917

With the restaurant’s name and address provided by the draft registration card, I checked the newspaper records and found that it had closed before the 1920 census.

Killpatrick Restaurant - 1920 Public Auction of Assets, Lowell Sun 4/9/1920

By the time this notice appeared in the Lowell Sun in April 1920, Killpatrick’s equipment was being auctioned off.  The closure of the restaurant was in good company too. Many restaurants, in Greater Lowell and beyond, closed as the effects of lost liquor licenses due to Prohibition began to be felt.  But, this is the topic of an earlier post on this blog, from October 15, 2011, link below.

The short of it is that this explained why Uncle Mitch had moved on by the 1920 census. I had found the restaurant, its location, its timeframe, and I knew that Mitchell had been born around 1888, meaning that I needed one of the men in white to be 30-year-old Mitchell Foisy.  A quick scan through Aunt Emily’s other Foisy photos quickly found a familiar face – the man in white, in the middle. None of the other men appeared in any of the other photos. I had found my man.

This past Sunday, I drove down into downtown Lowell, armed with my iPhone camera (4 not 4s), in search of the building where Killpatrick’s restaurant once stood. I knew from the advertisements that the restaurant once stood directly opposite the Lowell Post Office (now the School Department Building). And I also soon learned that Google Maps had not scanned the short stretch of road between Gorham’s intersections with Middlesex and Appleton streets. A quick look at the 1896 Lowell City Atlas did reveal the location of the restaurant, opposite what was then the City Post Office; below, I’ve marked the restaurant’s location with a blue dot.

The blue dot marks the spot of the Killpatrick Restaurant - From 1896 Lowell Atlas, Plate 5

At the site of Killpatrick’s restaurant; the building still stands. I snapped this photograph of the building as it appears today, more than 90 years after Killpatrick’s Restaurant closed its doors for the final time.

Site of Killpatrick's Restaurant, Photo Taken by Author - 10/23/11

With that, I was able to add a back story to my favorite Foisy family photograph, learn more local history relevant to Lowell, Massachusetts, and even get a reliable pricing guide showing what lunches cost at local restaurants in the years leading up to Prohibition. And that makes the photograph even more important to me.