“Paint us an angel with the floating violet robe and a face paled by the celestial light; paint
us a Madonna turning her mild face upward, and opening her arms to welcome the divine glory, but do not impose on us any esthetic
rules which shall banish from the reign of art those old women with work-worn hands scraping carrots, those rounded backs
and weather-beaten faces that have bent over the spade and done the rough work of the world, those homes with their tin pans,
their brown pitchers, their rough curs and their clusters of onions.
It is needful we should remember their existence, else we may happen to leave them out of our religion and philosophy,
and frame lofty theories which only fit the world of extremes. Therefore, let art always remind us of them; therefore, let
us always have men ready to give the loving pains of life to the faithful representing of commonplace things, men who see
beauty in the commonplace things, and delight in showing how kindly the light of heaven falls on them.” -George
Eliot, English novelist and journalist
Why did I create the Lewis Hine Project?
Back in the 1960s, I was taking
an American history course in college, and it occurred to me that the reason I was so bored with it was because I couldn’t
identify with the people I was reading and learning about. As far as I knew, no one in my family was ever a general, or a
president, or a senator, or a railroad magnate, or some other famous or privileged person (mostly rich white men). As the
saying goes, we were just plain folks. I thought to myself, “Didn’t history happen to ordinary people, too?”
In 2002, I
took a course in genealogy at a local college and went to work exploring my family history. I found out a bunch of amazing
stuff. My father’s maternal grandparents married at age 17, left their homes in Indiana in a covered wagon, and
headed slowly to Kansas to look for a place to farm. They eventually had nine children, four of them destined to die in their
first year. My father’s paternal great-grandfather came to the US (Illinois) from Ireland in the 1830s, and lost five
of his six sons in the Civil War. Both my father and I were named after the only son who survived. That was history I could
The children and families depicted in the child labor photographs of Lewis Hine were unwittingly caught in the
act of making history, but we know almost nothing about them. The pictures were taken for a noble purpose, but a century later,
they have become an enormous photo album of the American family. By finding out what happened to some of them, and by revealing
the photos to their descendants (most descendants are unaware of them), we are dignifying their lives, and the lives of everyone
that history has forgotten.
I am well aware that the mostly anecdotal information from descendants may have
relatively limited historical value, since some important details will be left out, due to faded memories or an occasional
unwillingness to mention embarrassing or deeply personal events. I also understand that the child laborers for whom I have
been successful may tend to represent those who left the most easily followed trail, such as those who lived long enough to
get a Social Security number, served in the military, and married and had children. And I have come to realize that I
often select children with "searchable" names, such as Archie Love, Shorpy Higginbotham and Ora Fugate; or that
I may favor photos that are compelling simply because of their artfulness or because of the way they touch me emotionally.
But my aim here
is not to write definitive biographies of each child, nor to establish any trends, nor to come to any conclusions about how
the experiences of child labor affected their adult lives, nor to even make an informed argument for or against the practice
of child labor. The stories, however long or brief, help us to get to know a few people whose only public persona has been
a simple snapshot.
How do I track down the descendants?
Most experienced genealogists and trained researchers are familiar with the tools
I use to find the descendants. It’s essential to have access to the Internet, and a website such as Ancestry.com, which
has a huge database of searchable digital records.
I usually choose a photo that has at least one person named in the caption. Hine
did not always identify the children, and when he did, he often misspelled names. He frequently gave the likely ages of children,
and virtually all of his captions list the location, and the year and month the photo was taken. The first thing I do
is look in the US census to see if anyone with that approximate name and age was listed in the city, town or state where they
were photographed. If I find the person, I try to follow them up through the 1940 census, the most recent one that is currently
accessible to the public. This information helps to establish the year and place of birth, and the names of their parents,
siblings, spouses and children.
If the person died with a Social Security number, their death record will appear in the Social
Security Death Index. Once I know where and when they died, there is a good chance that I will be able to obtain a copy of
the obituary in the newspaper archives at the library in the city or town in which they died. Most libraries provide this
service, and will mail out obituaries for a nominal fee. The obituary
usually lists some of the surviving family members, and often the town they were living in at that time. At that point, I
search for the survivors in the Internet White Pages, or on one of the major search engines. If I am succcessful, I contact
There are major obstacles I constantly encounter. Some people just don’t get listed in the census. Some
died very young and left no survivors. Many immigrants changed the spelling of their names, or the census takers (or Hine)
hopelessly misspelled their names. And the biggest obstacle is finding the death records of girls, since those who married
usually died with a different last name, which I won’t know unless I am lucky enough to find a state marriage record.
If I get stumped, I pick out a male sibling and track him instead.
In a few cases, I have chosen a child who was not identified by Hine, persuaded the
newspaper in the city or town where the child was photographed to publish the photo, and then waited to see if any
readers recognized that child. This has proved to be a very effective tool, as you will note from some of the stories on this
That’s the short answer to this question. There is much more to tell.
What are my plans for
the Lewis Hine Project?
Because I am author, I am working on a book about it. I have received casual interest
from several publishers, but no offers as yet. A documentary film, perhaps in the style of those on Public Television, would
be a terrific way to tell some of my stories, and my role in the project as well. A third idea would be a traveling exhibition,
similar to those sponsored by museums such as the Smithsonian. I work on this project essentially by myself, and at my
own expense. Several times over the years, I have obtained the voluntary services of several college student interns,
and a local resident, who helped with transcribing tapes of the many interviews I have done with the descendants.
There are almost 5,000 child labor photos to choose from. I can’t
do all of them. So when do I plan to stop?
That’s not likely to happen. The most rewarding part of this project has
been having the opportunity to contact descendants who were not aware of the photos, and send copies to them (free of charge).
Many of these descendants have never seen photos of their parents or grandparents as young children, and each new photo I
choose brings the hope of finding yet another surprised and delighted descendant, and another story. Why should I stop now?