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I’ve done a couple of diaries where I showed some of the steps I do in restoring old photos. But today I’m going to talk about why I have these photos and what I do with them. In the beforetimes, many years pre-COVID, I would buy photos from antique stores. Now I do more shopping on eBay, although eBay is greatly overpriced. As I showed in another diary, sometimes I use the photos as characters in novels I write. But that wasn’t how I started.
Originally, I bought photos with names on them. And then I would research the person, looking for descendants to return the pictures to. I’ve returned several hundred to families doing this. I generally look for two pieces of information to make a good ID: the name of the person, and either other family members (son of. . . for instance) or a location (photography studio is a good one). And I make a permanent memorial for each person, on Find A Grave, so the information is readily available to anyone searching, for however long.
Last year I bought the picture of this dashing young man.
It had several pieces of information. The photographic studio was Johnson Brothers in Washington, D.C. They were at that location from the mid 1860s until at least 1906. And on the back was written in pencil: John Ellis, Virginia.
So, step one. I did some minimal repair to have something presentable to offer. I’ll do a little more to freshen it once I have a place to send it.
And then I went on a search for John Ellis of Virginia. I have subscriptions to Ancestry and to a newspaper archive site for this purpose.
Here’s what I found about John Ellis:
John M. Ellis was a blacksmith, born in the Prospect District of Prince Edward County, Virginia. In 1904 he married Eliza Fleshman. They had nine children, for whom I have birth dates and (mostly) death dates. Three of their teenage children died together in an automobile accident in 1933. Eliza died in 1956. John died in 1957 in Lynchburg, where he was living with one of his daughters. John, Eliza, and several children are buried in a family cemetery in the Prospect district.
And there’s where I ran into a snag. There’s no record of the “family cemetery.” He’s on several Ancestry trees, but as a very distant relative. (I like to start with Ancestry because that’s where I’m likely to find family members who actually are interested in their ancestors and would value the photos. I’m not comfortable tracking down people mentioned in obituaries.) I tried contacting the historical society, but the one associated with Prospect District was last active in 2013. After a good deal of searching, I found Longwood University’s archive library, but the librarian there also had no records for Prospect District, nor any information about burials, and she said the county kept no records of burials, either. Hmm. She referred me to another woman, historian for Farmville, who might have some records. Unfortunately, the new person had heard of John Ellis, had even heard a speech by his grandson about him, but the grandson had passed two years ago, leaving an elderly wife but no children. She had no other ideas, but she was grateful for a digital copy of the photo and asked that I send her anything else I found for the society’s records.
I’ve run into this difficulty before, of lack of good records for Black cemeteries, and of historical societies and researchers wanting me to provide information. So on to the next level of searching.
Next stop, the funeral home that handled most of the arrangements for the family. They were very nice, and went right to work trying to help. Unfortunately, the records for John and Eliza were in another office in the city’s old cemetery. The funeral home left a message at the cemetery and said they would call when they had an answer, probably that Wednesday. Two weeks later, I called again. I talked to a different person, let’s say one less cordial, who said the same about records needing to be retrieved, with a promise to call in a day or two. That was a month ago. I called a third time, this week, to ask about a recent burial, with records that should actually still be on the premises. Again, a promise to call. Again, no call.
If I find no family members wanting the photo, I will likely offer it to the Farmville historian. And if anyone is in that area, I could sure use some help.