"The chief drawback to their work is the deadening monotony of it and the mental stagnation that must inevitably follow in its trail. Sitting by himself for nine or ten hours a day, in absolute darkness, save for his little oil lamps and the lamps of the passers-by; breathing air that is far from fresh air, fouled by smoking oil-lamps and loaded with moisture; his chief work being to open the door when called to, and to close it after the cars have passed through; - small wonder is it that he sometimes falls asleep and fails to respond to the summons to open the door, thereby increasing the dangers of collision between cars in opposite directions, or that he wanders off, leaving the door open, increasing the dangers of explosion. If his monotony is broken, as it too often is, by calls to come and help the driver of a ‘trip,' it means increased physical danger." -Lewis Hine, National Child Labor Committee Investigation Report 408

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On December 6, 1907, less than a year before this photo was taken, the worst mining disaster in American history occurred in Monongah, West Virginia, not far from where Vance Palmer was born and raised. An underground explosion at the Consolidated Coal Company resulted in the deaths of 362 men and boys, leaving 250 widows and over 1000 fatherless children. Young Vance had a lot of time on his hands in his lonely job, and he must have thought about that mine disaster more than once.

This is one of those photographs by Lewis Hine that stop you dead in your tracks. I opened up the Library of Congress website one morning, started browsing the child labor photos, and saw it. I couldn't do much the rest of the day except search hour after hour for information about the boy, whose last name was not included in the caption. But when I blew up the photo, I noticed that he had scrawled what appeared to be "Vance Palmer" on the door several times, and as well as the letters, "V.P." So I searched Vance Palmer in Ancestry.com.

I found him right away in the 1920 census, listed as a 26-year-old glass cutter, not married. He was living near Clarksburg. In the 1930 census, he was married to Helen and had three children: Vance J., Eloise and William. He was still a glass cutter. I also found his WWI and WWII draft registrations, which identified his full name as Vance Swisher Palmer, born September 16, 1893. He turned 15 years old in the month he was photographed by Hine.

Two days later, I got in touch with a historian in Clarksburg, West Virginia, who sent me a copy of his official West Virginia death record. He died August 20, 1945, at the age of 52. The historian knew his family and got me in touch with Vance's daughter, Eloise Jurick. I called her and sent her the photograph. She had never seen it. Finally, I interviewed both her and her brother William, who also had never seen the photo.

Vance was born to George Palmer and Celia McGready, who married in Harrison County, West Virginia, in 1870. They had at least 10 children, Vance apparently the youngest. In 1904, George remarried, this time to Atha Carder. Celia did not die until 1923, so it appears that she and George divorced. There are conflicting records as to whether George and Atha had any children. George died in 1915, and Atha married again. She died in 1935. In 1908, when Hine photographed him, Vance may have been living with his mother, or perhaps with his father and stepmother. He does not appear in the 1910 census.