Scanning Old Family Photos

As I mentioned in my last post, one of the things I've been doing lately is scanning old family photos.  This is an outgrowth of my interest in genealogy.  I've been working on my family history for many decades now.  I wound up with my parents' photos, yearbooks, and other memorabilia, and my cousins have sent me some stuff that they had, and pretty soon there was a huge collection scattered in various places around the house.  With the coronavirus lockdown, this is the perfect time to sort through all the stuff, scan some photos, save some, and trash a lot.

So what do I look for in keeping and/or scanning old photos?  There's gotta be some sort of catch.  Some of these photos go back to maybe 1850, and when you have one photo of an ancestor, there's your built-in catch.  One side of my family began taking photos more and more frequently starting in the early 1900's.  This was about the time that Kodak began producing the Brownie cameras and photography became available to regular people.  My grandparents, and then my parents, were just like every other set of parents since then: their kids are the cutest things to ever walk the face of the earth, and their every action must be recorded for posterity.  That's an attitude that results in lots and lots and LOTS of variations of the same picture.  Not only that, but people in the 1920's and 30's liked to ham it up for the camera just like people today do.  They didn't do selfies, but they did the same kind of silly poses you see today on Instagram.  People don't really change that much.  Another favorite photographic activity is "photographing the family vacation".  A picture of Yosemite from 1950 looks just like a picture of Yosemite from 2019: somebody smiling at the camera with Half Dome in the background.  And, as every person who has tried to capture an amazing landscape on film has learned the hard way, big landscape experiences are rarely impressive when compressed onto slides or 5x7 prints.

Most of us take photos as mementos of our own experiences.  We can flip back through them and remember what we were doing, who we were doing it with, and laugh or cry, all based on our own memories.  But those memories don't translate to other people.  I don't have my parents' memories, so a photo they may have taken, laughing it up with a group of friends, doesn't mean anything to me.  Not unless it shows me something special about my parents.  So what I'm doing, really, is combing through the photos with the idea that future generations of our families (both on my mom's and my dad's sides) can have an idea of who these people were.  They don't need to see ALL the photos to do that.

So I look for photos that tell us something.  On my great-grandparents' 50th anniversary, three generations got together and took a whole bunch of photos.  I scanned two of them, tossed some that were poorly exposed or taken at a wrong time, and kept a very few others that might be of some interest further down the line.  The ones I scanned show the great-grandparents just a few years before they died, my grandparents and a couple of their brothers and sisters as mature adults, and my dad and his sisters just entering adulthood and full of life and energy.  So those are important.  Another set of photos came from a day when my mom and her friends, all aged maybe 15, got hold of a camera and had a field day with it.  Of those pictures, only one is worth scanning for historical purposes.  I kept several more because, in flipping through them, you get a sense of a bunch of teenage girls at play.  And there are two from that day that I would like to use to make a painting.  The exposure and compositions were terrible, which in this case made them wonderfully mysterious.

But enough words.  You came here because you wanted to see old family photos, right?  Here are five to kinda show what I was getting at.

This picture of one of my great-great grandfathers was taken in about 1870.  I have a couple of other family photos that are even earlier, but can't quite determine the year.  It's always good to get a visual on one of your ancestors.  All photos back then were stiff and posed, so you can't tell much about his personality, but at least we have an idea of what he looked like.

 Great time at the beach, circa 1918!  My grandparents are in this picture.  Change the outfits and this could be on any beach today.

 My mom was a real live wire.  Her brother was more reserved, but she could get him to open up and goof around.

 My dad was a Navy pilot in World War II, flying the B-24 (the Navy called it a PB4Y-1).  This was on their base shortly after the end of the war.

This group of cousins was all dressed up for Easter church.  Let's just say we dress a little differently these days.

Gettysburg Anniversary

Today is the 150th anniversary of the start of the Battle of Gettysburg.  A couple of years ago, while researching my family history, I discovered that one of my ancestors was wounded and captured there.  The fact that he survived at all is something of a miracle.

Lorenzo Whitaker was 19 when he joined Company K of the 2nd Mississippi Infantry Regiment in Iuka on Saturday, March 1, 1862.  Company K was known as the "Iuka Rifles" from Tishomingo County.  His first action was the Battle of Seven Pines in Virginia on May 31- June 1.  It was quickly followed by the battle at Gaines Mill, then at Second Manassas in August, where they routed Union forces.  Two weeks later, they routed three more Union units (4th and 8th Pennsylvania and 6th Wisconsin) at the Cornfield at Antietam, while losing almost half their men killed or wounded.  The 2nd Mississippi then retired to Goldsborough, North Carolina for the winter to recuperate and reorganize.

In the spring of 1863, Lorenzo and the unit laid seige to Suffolk, Virginia.  In June, they moved north as part of General Lee's plan to take the fight to the Union.  The 2nd Mississippi was in the vanguard of Confederate forces moving southeast along Chambersburg Pike towards Gettysburg when the fighting started on July 1.  The 2nd Mississippi hit BG Cutler's brigade of the Army of the Potomac head-on.  Cutler's unit lost about 500 men and were driven back.  Confederate troops captured one gun and limber and routed the Federal troops (the 147th New York and the 2nd Maine Artillery) from the field.  The Confederates chased the Union forces toward Seminary Ridge, but the chase became disorganized.  Much of the unit was trapped in the Railroad Cut by the sudden arrival of Union reinforcements.  This cut, which was too deep to allow the Mississippians to shoot effectively, became a killing ground.  Some escaped, but many more were killed, wounded, and captured, and their battle flag was lost.  Lorenzo Whitaker was probably one of the wounded and captured.  The unit rested on July 2nd.  On July 3rd, the remnants of the regiment participated in Pickett's Charge, where they were disciplined and effective, but decimated nonetheless.  Total casualties from Gettysburg are difficult to pin down.  It is estimated that there were just under 500 men at the start of the battle, but suffered approximately 380-390 killed, wounded, captured, or missing (about 80% of its complement).

This is the Railroad Cut today.  At the time of the battle, of course, there was no bridge, and the railroad had not yet been laid.  The 2nd Mississippi was trapped by Union forces on the ridge at left and the sudden arrival of reinforcements coming this way along the railroad bed.  The southern soldiers had nowhere to go.  Some at the far end of the cut got away, but most of the unit was killed or captured.

Lorenzo was sent to Fort Delaware, a prison camp.  Fort Delaware was a horrible place, on par with any concentration camp in any war.  It was a Union fort on Pea Patch Island, in the middle of the upper reaches of Delaware Bay, off Delaware City.  At one time, it held up to 13,000 prisoners, many from Gettysburg.  Water was putrified and food scarce.  Rats were a delicacy.  Diseases such as scurvy, smallpox, malnutrition, measles, dysentery, and diarrhea were widespread.  All had lice.  One prisoner wrote that he shrank from 140 pounds to 80 pounds during his time there.  Approximately 2700 Confederate prisoners died during captivity; 2436 are buried there.

Lorenzo survived Fort Delaware, though, and on June 11, 1865, was released, two months after Lee's surrender.  He returned home to Mississippi and became a farmer.  He married Jennie Billings on May 30, 1866, and raised six children.  He apparently died sometime around 1896 at about 55 years of age.

I wish I knew more about Lorenzo.  I wish there was a photograph of him, along with Jennie and the kids.  I'd like to know more about this man than what can be gleaned from a few recorded census and muster records and history books.  He must have been tough as nails, but he must have retained his humanity as well.  His daughter, my great-grandmother, was a cheerful and gentle woman who nonetheless had her own iron will: she defied her parents and eloped with her beau at age 21.

So as we commemorate Gettysburg over the next couple of days, and think about its impact on our country, I'm going to think instead about it's impact on me, personally.  Had anything been different there, had a bullet gone slightly right or left, or an order been given a second earlier or later, I might not be here.  The individual strength of one man, though, pulled him through multiple major battles, two years in a prison camp, and into a farmer's life in the reconstruction South, where he successfully raised a family, one of whom eventually led to me.

Family Tree

I've been working on my family tree off and on for many years now. Recently, I had a breakthrough on a couple of the branches and discovered two ancestors who fought in the Civil War. Their stories are quite amazing.

One was a great-great-grandfather (my mother's father's father's father), James Price. He enlisted in the 58th Alabama Infantry in February, 1862. The unit was sent to Mobile to man defensive positions for a year. In 1863 the 58th moved to Tullahoma and fought in several small engagements. In September, the men participated in the battle of Chickamauga, where they distinguished themselves by capturing several pieces of Federal artillery the first day and breaking the Federal lines the second. However, the 58th paid a heavy price, losing over half its men killed and wounded during the battle. After recuperating and consolidating, they fought in the battle of Missionary Ridge on November 25th. Union forces defeated the Confederates and ended the siege of Chattanooga. The 58th suffered heavily: of 400 men in the fight, over 250 were killed, wounded, or captured.

My great-great-grandfather and his unit wintered over in Dalton, Georgia. In May, 1864, they fought at Resaca, GA, losing a third of their men in the first few minutes. They also fought at New Hope, Kennesa, and around Atlanta. In the fall they moved north into Tennessee and were in engagements in Columbia, Franklin (twice) and Nashville.

I believe that my great-great-grandfather was wounded and discharged at some point, probably in one of the 1864 battles, as he was married and had a child born in 1865. I haven't found any record of his discharge yet but will continue looking.

The other ancestor was also a great-great-grandfather: my mother's father's mother's father. Lorenzo Whitaker enlisted in the 2nd Mississippi in the spring of 1862. His older brother William had enlisted in the unit the previous year and fought in the Battle of First Manassas (aka, "Battle of Bull Run"). Lorenzo joined the 2nd Mississippi at Yorktown, where they were gearing up for another combat season. Shortly after he arrived, however, his brother was discharged due to an unspecified disability. Lorenzo and the 2nd Mississippi participated in the battles of Seven Pines (near Richmond in May, 1862), Gaines Mill, Second Manassas, and in September, at Antietam. There, they routed Federal forces out of the Cornfield, while sustaining losses of about half their men. The unit then retired to Goldsborough, NC, where they wintered over.

In the spring of 1864, they began combat operations again. They participated in the (unsuccessful) siege of Suffolk, Virginia, and then moved north as part of Lee's campaign to take the fight into Northern territory. The 2nd Mississippi was in the vanguard of forces moving toward Gettysburg when the fighting started on July 1. They inflicted heavy losses on Federal troops, broke their lines, and chased them toward Seminary Ridge. The chase became chaotic, however, and a large group was suddenly outflanked and surprised at the Railroad Cut, which put the Southern forces in a hole and unable to fire effectively. Many were quickly wounded and killed and the Cut became a killing ground. The Major in nominal charge of the Southern forces surrendered. My great-great-grandfather was one of those who was wounded and captured.

As it turns out, these were the lucky ones. Two days later, what was left of the 2nd Mississippi took part in Pickett's Charge, where they were decimated. Out of all the 2nd Mississippi's men who started across the field, only one was not wounded or killed.

Lorenzo and the other captives spent the rest of the war at Fort Delaware, a prison camp on an island off Delaware City. This camp was a gulag, on par with any concentration camp. At one time, it held up to 13,000 prisoners, many from Gettysburg. Water was putrified and food scarce. Rats were a delicacy. Diseases such as scurvy, smallpox, malnutrition, measles, dysentery, and diarrhea were widespread. All had lice. One prisoner wrote that he shrank from 140 pounds to 80 pounds during his time there. Approximately 2700 Confederate prisoners died during captivity; 2436 are buried on the island. Lorenzo survived captivity, however, and went on to raise a family on farms in northern Mississippi.

Reading history books about the great events of our past is all well and good, but it usually seems remote. Now, though, I have a personal interest in places like Chickamauga and Gettysburg. My ancestors were there. Those events shaped them, they shaped their children, and their children, eventually, shaped me.