The (almost) Lost Photos

Twenty-year-old M.E. O'Brien, left, and friend (possibly cousin Dan O'Brien)

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A Little Background

Saturday, March 27, 2004, was a good day, genealogically speaking.  Make that an astoundingly good day.  Linda and I had crossed the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor in quest of cheap drugs (66% discount in Canada with its Government controlled socialized medicine system) which makes for some lively border-crossing repartee:  "Why are you entering Canada?"

  "The drugs." 

"Come again, ay?"  

"The inexpensive prescription drugs at Zehr's pharmacy.  That's why we're here...to pick up a prescription.  And some of that good Canadian beer, too."

  "You and 'aboot' every other American and his uncle, right?  Proceed...." )

And as it was a splendid day, aberrantly sunny after another long, gray, dismal Michigan winter, we decided afterwards -- out-of-control party animals that we are -- to return to the U.S. via the tunnel and visit Detroit.  We were dumped out on East Jefferson at Randolph where, looking left, we spotted the MichCon building at the foot of Woodward, WJM's ball-and-chain for 25+ years. Hmmm. What to do?  Well, we decided, let's just turn right onto Jefferson and see where that takes us.  Cruising east, we saw the sign for Eastern Market, passed the Belle Isle bridge, and soon thereafter, found ourselves at Van Dyke.  "Isn't this the street where...?" 

"Yeah," I replied, and turned left.  Heading north on Van Dyke, we came to Agnes Street.  "Hey, I think John McCluskey lives on Agnes," I said. 

"Let's stop by," urged Linda. 

"Naah," I quickly replied, "he doesn't need any unexpected visitors.  You know how you hate it when someone just shows up  at your doorstep.  Your house is a mess, you're a mess, you've got plans...." 

"Well, then, let's call." 

"Okay," I said, handing her my cell as we approached Kerchieval. 

 Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring...finally, a voice, out of breath: "Hello?" 

"John!  Hi!  This is Linda Marion.  You know, Bill's wife? Right, your cousin Bill.  The guy who's never visited you in his life, that is, not since he had to with his parents.  Well, that sorry record is over... you'll never guess where we are...Bill, where are we?"

"We just passed Kerchieval on Van Dyke." 

"Did you get that John?  We're in your neighborhood!" 

John, thunderstruck, his mind racing, Oh shit! My house is a mess, I'm a mess, I've got plans...what to do? finally says, "Hey, I've got those old pictures for you.  You know, the ones I've been hoarding for decades now.  Do you want to pick them up?"

           circa 1953 

From his earliest years, John McCluskey has had a gnawing desire to preserve history. 

John McCluskey -- loyal cousin, talented photographer, diehard Detroiter, and all-around congenial chap -- must be applauded and thanked for coming up with these extremely important contributions to the exploration of our roots.  Keep this in mind:  As of February 4th, 2004, when we met with Anne Franco at Julie's house for lunch and to look at Anne's photo albums, this very site contained absolutely no  reference to our O'Brien/Harrington pedigree.  None.  It was a modest affair, dedicated solely to the HackFest, our annual Marion family gathering, begun in 1989, mainly as an excuse for the brothers to play basketball all weekend.  NOW look at it!  Thanks to Julie and Anne, and now to John, the past threatens to crowd out the present!  Is that a good thing?  Hell yes!  We still have 4950 gigbytes to play with and lots more prodigal cousins to badger for material! 

Due to difficulties with picture identifcation, John's remarkable stash of O'Brien portraits are a genealogist's wet dream and his worst nightmare all in one.  All pertinent shots will eventually be posted on this website.

Both of the above albums contain O'Brien family photos. The black one is more "contemporary," mainly 30s, 40s, and early 50s stuff, with a smattering of McCluskey-oriented photographs (naturally) mixed in.  We'll deal with it later.  The pale green album with the metal clasp -- henceforth to be known as the Johnny Mac Green Album --  is another matter altogether.  

I was standing by my car when John handed that one over to me saying modestly something like, "I have no idea whether this has anything worthwhile in it."  It was wrapped in a plastic grocery bag, formerly white, but now gone gray with age and dust.  Rotted bits of cloth and shards of ancient cardboard fluttered to the pavement as I slowly revealed the album, balancing it on my leg.  It probably hadn't seen the light of day in 50 years, maybe more.

 "Holy shit, John," I blasphemed, as I got a glimpse of the first page.  Meanwhile, the album's fragile fabric spine threatened to tear right down the middle.  "I cannot believe you have this. This is amazing!"

  "It is?" said John, "Really?" 

"Oh, yeah...and during all these many years, and the various moves you've made, you DIDN'T throw it away.  You're a friggin' hero," I said, swiftly realizing what had just come into my grasping genealogical hands.  After all, how often do people simply toss things away in a spasm of carelessness as they resolutely determine to simplify their lives? Classic record albums; once-stylish clothing; furniture that has lost its stature in the home; old moldering, seemingly irrelevant letters and books-- not to mention ancient photo albums containing portraits of unidentified people long in their graves....

Fortunately, for us all, John didn't succumb to this thoughtless urge. 

Fortunately for us all, Johnny Mac -- seen here prowling the banks of the Detroit River for suitable photographic subjects -- resisted the temptation to leave a chunk of our history in his wake.

Note:  A couple of weeks after I wrote the above, John called, and in the course of our conversation, he related the story of how the battered and bruised old album truly WAS almost lost: After Kitty's death, he and Michael moved out of their Harper Woods' residence which they had shared with their mother.  After everything had been carted away, John performed a perfunctory final inspection of the place.  In the basement, under the workbench, he spied something they had overlooked.  He reached down and retrieved it.  As a result of his diligence, we have these...  

M.E. as a young roustabout, one of some 38 photos in the album saved from certain extinction by scrupulous mover, John McCluskey.  Although the photo doesn't specifically identify the young subject as M.E., the characteristically turned-down mouth and the suit and tie, his constant companions thoughout his life, are a dead giveaway.  As for his age here, 13ish seems to be as good a guess as any.

Another classic from Calumet.  Although the majority of the photos are not marked in any way, on the flip side, this one lists, l to r,  Eleanor O'Brien, Mary O'Brien, and Catherine Forman.   No mention of the young friar's name, but just for kicks we'll call him Dominick -- a good, solid, upright name for a be-robed one. Incidentally, the order in which the names are written on the photo suggests that Mary O'Brien is the one in the middle, but as that girl appears to be a bit older than the other two (who seem to be the same age), we have deduced that Eleanor and her cousin Mary (Patrick O'Brien's daughter), who were born about the same time, flank Catherine Forman.  Unfortunately, we have no clue as to Catherine's relationship to the other girls, and will assume she was a school chum.

M.E.'s brother, Patrick Harrington O'Brien 

There is no identifying info on the back of the mug shot ABOVE, as is the unfortunate case with the vast majority of the photos in the Johnny Mac Green Album.  This will necessitate our tapping into all available resources to identify the faces therein.  This photo, for instance, is no doubt a young P.H. O'Brien, with his strong brotherly resemblance to M.E.  He also has a remarkably distinct lower face from nose to chin and good solid ears (see the same distinguished gentleman below who, when this portrait was taken some four decades later, was approaching seventy).  Of course, we know that Patrick did once live in Superior, Wisconsin, where he began his law career and that's where his son, Gerald, was born in 1898.  To me, it's a slam dunk:  This is P.H.

Patrick Henry O'Brien (b. 1868) — also known as Patrick H. O'Brien — of Calumet, Houghton County, Mich.; Laurium, Houghton County, Mich.; Detroit, Wayne County, Mich. Born in Phoenix, Keweenaw County, Mich., March 15, 1868. Son of Patrick J. O'Brien and Mary (Green) O'Brien; married, January 23, 1897, to Bessie Kelly (died 1921). Democrat. Miner; lawyer; candidate for Michigan state senate, 1900; candidate for U.S. Representative from Michigan, 1908 (12th District), 1930 (6th District); circuit judge in Michigan 12th Circuit, 1912-22; elected unopposed 1917; resigned 1922; delegate to Democratic National Convention from Michigan, 1912, 1928 (alternate), 1932; candidate for justice of Michigan state supreme court, 1919, 1925; candidate in primary for Governor of Michigan, 1932; Michigan state attorney general, 1933-34; defeated, 1934. Member, Elks; Knights of Columbus. Burial location:  Houghton, MI.

This pleasant-looking young lass occupies the very first position in the Johnny Mac Green Album -- though who knows what significance that has?  This is one of only a handful of the albums's shots taken outside of the Keweenaw.  The only thing on the back is the name and address of the photographic studio: Tomlinson, 236 Woodward Avenue at the corner of John R. Street. That's it. Those are the clues.  One has to assume that this was shot, like the other photos in the album, somewhere around 1890-1910, though, again, that's just an educated guess.  Unfortunately,  I don't have any idea as to whom she might be...We'll just have to hope that we find some clues somewhere down the line that make identification possible.

Another in a long line of portraits of M.E. (we're quite certain it's him anyway).  Unquestionably, this looks like a callow, teenaged version of the man whose face is posted more on this site than any other's. This is true mainly because he was so diligent in photographically cataloguing himself as he aged, whether by calculation, or more likely, because that was the convention of the times.  People, vainglorious or not, wealthy or not, had their pictures taken. A lot, it seems.  And now, more than a century later, the earliest O'Brien photos possess a certain fascination for his genealogically-inclined descendants who are happy to have such a graphic record to ponder.  Think of the numberless other relics of the past -- rotary dial phones, Victrolas, 76 rpm records, ice boxes and the like -- long since lost, relegated to the landfills, second-hand shops, and garage sales of life...and those millions upon millions of Brownie-captured photos, come and gone forever.  So we are lucky. Incidentally, Herman is the name of the studio imprinted on the mat, one on an impressive roster of such portrait emporiums employed over the years by the O'Briens to capture their changing images for posterity's sake.  One wonders if this picture was taken to commemorate M.E.'s graduation from high school, as he looks to be about 17-18 here. 

Although nothing is written on this photo to confirm my opinion, this must surely be M.E.'s dear sister Annie (aka, Anna, Hanna, Honora, and in her later days, "Auntie") who was born in 1873 and doesn't look much older than 20 or 25 in this turn of the century shot.  It was taken in Red Jacket, MI, a town that sprang up when copper mining overtook the Keweenaw, and that in 1929 became part of Calumet.  Annie would later move from the U.P. to Detroit to help out with the kids when her sister-in-law, Nell Harrington died suddenly in 1917, leaving M.E. a widower with seven children younger than 14-years-old.  Thusly devoting her life to her nieces and nephew, Annie never married, dying in 1952 at the age of 79.  Incidentally, she is buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetary (Section 41) in a plot purchased in 1917 by M.E. on the occasion of Nell's death. 

This is also Annie O'Brien, this time with her mother, Mary Green O'Brien, but again, because the photo is not marked, the location and year are in doubt.  This could well have been taken not long after the O'Briens moved to Detroit from Laurium, around 1912-1913.  This would put Annie in her late 30s (note white patches in hair) and Mary in her late 70s, which appears about right. We'll be doing some research at the Detroit Public Library in the near future as to the different homes of the family in those early years...and then visiting them.  We already know that Great-Grandma was living with M.E. and company at 1158 Putnam (near Trumbull) when she died in 1923, and that 2244 Edison, 2040 Atkinson, and 736 Atkinson were all O'Brien residences at one juncture or another.

-TO BE CONTINUED-