Faces from the Past

By Dave Taylor

It's been four years since Dave Harlow's wife, Helen, passed away. Since then, he has renewed his passion for researching his family roots. He uses his magnifying glass to stare into each and every one of the hundreds of family pictures-the old housing, clothes, and hairstyles. From horse-drawn carriages to old cars, this was a time gone by.

He is now focused on the picture of a family of nine. His great-great-great-grandfather and grandmother, along with their children, standing and sitting on the lawn in front of a big house having a group picture taken. The closer he looks at the picture, the more he studies each detail, the more he can feel himself being pulled into the picture, becoming part of the scene.

He now finds himself standing behind the photographer taking a picture of the family he was just looking at through the magnifying glass. He moves around to the front of the camera and is now gazing at the family he only a second ago had seen in a picture he was holding. This dream reality will only last a day as he wakes up at his desk, staring at the picture of the family of eight. Was it a dream, or did it really happen?

He seeks medical and mental help only to find all is well. Could he have just dreamed it?

Dave returns home to again start looking through multiple pictures. Could it happen again, and where will he go next?

Join Dave as he sees his father purchase his first new 1928 automobile and watches Mathew Brady take a photograph of Abe Lincoln and General McClellan. Finally, Dave will explore New York at the turn of the early nineteen hundreds.

Are any of these events actually happening, or are they a dream?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: May 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781649527011

Book preview

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Faces from the Past

Dave Taylor

Copyright © 2021 Dave Taylor

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2021

ISBN 978-1-64952-700-4 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64952-701-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

For my families, both past and present.

Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.

—David Ogden Stiers

In all of us there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our heritage—to know who we are and where we came from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.

—Alex Haley, Roots

I

Another start to another day. The sun peeking through the drapes catching my eyes, reminding me that I need to fix those drapes or perhaps buy some new ones, anything to stop Mr. Sunshine from hitting my eyes. Buying drapes really was not my thing. That was Helen’s, not mine. The empty side of the bed reminds me every day of her four-year absence. I keep thinking, we were to finish out our years together, but that damn cancer had other plans. Well, you can’t live in the past. Now that was a funny thought since I have been working on our family tree these past ten years. Time to get up.

I struggled to the bathroom and threw some water on my face to help me meet the new day. I wonder what exciting discoveries I will have among the dead people of the past. I dressed and made my way down the stairs to the kitchen. Halfway down the stairs, I can smell that coffee aroma starting to wake me up. A couple of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a couple cups of coffee, and I was ready to get started.

My grandson Peter arrived and greeted his old grandpa. Morning, Gramps. How are you feeling?

With my hands! I replied.

Oh, Gramps. I mean how does you head feel? You know…after the fall.

Yes, I slipped on a rug, hit my head. Had enough sense to call 911 and they took me to the hospital. I was in there for three whole days eating their lovely food. They said I suffered a concussion, but after all the tests they think I’m fine for a sixty-one-year-old man. That’s been two weeks now and I feel fine. I am thinking about going back to my family tree research. I haven’t touched it for over a month.

Peter looked at me, his blue eyes staring. He was nineteen years old, slim, and handsome. Was he staring at me or at the wall behind me? I could not tell. Still, he was good to his grandpa!

Anyway, I continued, I am feeling fine and no more headaches. Time to move on. I don’t want to dwell in the past.

Peter came over and gave me a big hug. I need to leave, Grandpa. Have to get to work. Maybe you should remove all your throw rugs in the house, so you don’t slip again. I just wanted to make sure you are okay. I can see that you are, so I’m out of here. With those parting words, he left through the front door.

The house was once again quiet. I went back into the kitchen to get one more cup of coffee. Afterward, I went into the room. Helen, my lovely wife for so many years, now singing with the angels, and I had set up for my family research. Turned on the light. The room was a fairly large room with family pictures hanging all around the room, some dating back to the early eighteen hundreds. On one side of the room were two large bookcases containing old collectible books, historical books where family members had lived, maps, books showing the layout of a particular city throughout different periods of time. On the large wall sat my work area. Large enough to hold my computer and printer, copier and scanner, and still space for me to examine historical papers and pictures. The desk had three drawers on each side. Behind the desk, on the opposite wall, were two file cabinets containing papers regarding family information. This, indeed, was a perfect work area.

I sat down at the desk and picked up a picture of a house with nine people in front of the house. The house was a two-story with a covered porch, starting in the front and extending to the side. As far as the people in the picture, I knew the names of most of the people, from great-great-grandfather James Whitney, sitting in the front of the picture with his wife, Nora, my great-great-grandmother; his children, one being my great-grandfather Luther Whitney, sitting to the far right. Everyone else was standing. There was one of the eight I could not recognize. I remember now, this is where I left off last month. I was trying to track down her name and relationships to the Whitneys in the picture. The mystery woman was medium height with hair in a bun. The dress of all the people was about 1900 or 1910.

Let me see if there is something in my papers regarding James and Luther Whitney’s family that might give me a clue on this mystery woman. I turn around in my chair, and opening the bottom of one of the cabinets, I scan through the many documents regarding the Whitney family. I took out a letter that was given to me years ago. The letter was from my great-great-grandfather, James, to his brother, Isaac. Could not read the date exactly. Looked like it was dated April 20, 1900. The letter talked about the photographer he had come out to the farm and take a family picture. Probably that same picture I had in front of me on the desk.

It was a great time…, the letter read. It was a nice spring day. Had a little rain after the picture was taken. There were a total of nine in the picture. Come out and see us sometime.

Mother said that Grandpa Higgins is not doing well and expect to pass on in the coming weeks… The letter went on