While we take thousands upon thousands of pictures these days, most exist only electronically. We might print out one from a wedding or a family reunion, but most never see the physical light of day. But before the advent of mass market electronic photography in the 1990's, we printed every picture because that was the only way to see them. While some were framed or put into albums, the vast majority disappeared into shoe boxes stuffed into the back of a closet. Regardless of where they resided, however, they almost all had one thing in common: they weren't labeled. Maybe there was a first name and date on the back, or something like "Our House," but just as likely they were anonymous.
As the generation that owned these historical artifacts downsized, moved or died, these historical records got shuffled and displaced. Eventually they might surface at a garage sale or antique shop. But most had no provenance, no trail or documented history. Indeed, most had little import and were worth next to nothing. Nothing, that is, except to the people who took them or were in the photos or related to those people. And that's where Aaron Turner comes in.
It started when he helped his grandmother sort and organize her pictures and discovered old photos of friends and kids she babysat for in the 1950's. He helped her research where those people were, package the photos up, then sent them out with a note saying that perhaps the recipient would appreciate these relics. The response was overwhelming: letter after letter came back, thanking her for her kindness. That instilled in him a keen sense of history and pictures, and led to his hobby of finding old photos and reuniting them with their owners or their descendants.
It started with an eBay store in 2001, where he bought and sold old items, earning enough to pay for college. But occasionally an old picture caught his eye. It might contain a handwritten note or an unusual name, a fragment of an address or something interesting in the background. Based on that scanty evidence he researched them using old maps, records and whatever he could find online. When he made a match he did a "cold mailing," sending the picture off with an explanatory note, with no request or expectation of payment. Needless to say, people were surprised to receive an item in the mail from their past from someone they didn't know. Was it a scam? Nope: it was just Aaron doing something he liked to do.
By and large the result was delight and astonishment. He received hundreds of letters thanking him for his efforts, along with donations to his cause. As a hobby it became all-consuming and self-sustaining, so much so that he eventually quit his teaching job and got a second Masters degree, this time in library science and archival studies. Along the way he broadened his lost then found efforts, reuniting not just photos of people with their owners, but pictures of old houses, church and school programs and circulars, CB QSL cards, diplomas, and other personal mementos that would have been otherwise lost to history.
Occasionally Aaron will come across an entire old album from one family. Maybe it was misplaced or accidentally sold as part of an estate. If he can figure out an interested party, he will send them a note, explaining who he is and what he does, while offering it at cost. He takes pains to explain he is not extorting people for their old possessions, but reuniting them, and it's their choice to buy or not: "I am not wealthy enough to just buy and give it to you. I invest my own time and do the research it takes to figure out who these people are and then find you for free because, well, I just like to do that."
Aaron calls his efforts "random acts of genealogical kindness." But it's something more. He also volunteers at the Ohio Genealogical Society, curating their yearbook collection and writing articles for their bulletin, and speaks to local groups about the need to label and archive an individual's precious personal historical artifacts. Otherwise, all those treasures will be lost and forgotten. Thankfully, Aaron likes to find them, and help us remember.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford has a number of photo albums, but needs to label them. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
No comments:
Post a Comment