The Strangers in the Box.

These are photos I acquired from Where on Earth? Antique Mall in Airdrie, Alberta, Canada. Unfortunately, the photos do not have much information. Click on thumbnails for larger images.

I think most of the photos are from Circa 1900 and were probably taken in Canada and the U.S.A. Some are printed on postcards with handwriting on the back. One postcard has the photographer’s stamp on the back. Some are matted and stamped with the photographer’s signature.

The Strangers in the Box.

Come, look with me inside this drawer
In this box I’ve often seen,
At the pictures, black and white,
Faces proud, still and serene.

I wish I knew the people,
These strangers in the box,
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among the socks.

I wonder what their lives were like,
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I’ll never know their ways.

If only someone would have taken time,
To tell who, what, and when,
Those faces of my heritage
Would come to life again.

Could this become the fate
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday to be tossed away.

Make time to save your pictures,
Seize the opportunity when it knocks,
Or someday you and yours could be
The strangers in the box.

Author: Pam Harazim.

Photographer’s signatures.

Baldwin, Sioux City, (Iowa, USA)

Baldwin,  Successor to Beamer, Sioux City, (Iowa, USA)

C.C Du Pois, Melfort, Saskatchewan (Canada.)

I. Hilcell, Artist, Beresford, S.O. Dak
(South Dakota, U.S.A)

I. Frad, Photographer, Centerville, S.D.
(South Dakota, U.S.A)

Waterworth Studio, Central Avenue. Prince Albert, (Saskatchewan) Canada.
Printed on the back of the postcard

Artist, Beresford.
(New Brunswick, Canada)

Keller’s, Beresford.
(New Brunswick, Canada)


Orphan photo

“The Old Scrapbook”
By C. Nathalie Ellen Milliken

It speaks of times now long ago
In a voice so soft and low,

Come, my friend, see what you can see,
Come and take a look at me.

My bright colors are faded and dim,
But my spirit is bright within,

Pictures of people in days gone by,
Laughing and crying, we know not why,

Cards and pamphlets, and programs old,
What are the stories they have told?

Wrapping paper, an old gift tag,
Pieces of this, and bits of that,

Little treasures that people have saved,
Celebrations of special days,

So many mem’ries my pages fill,
They’re waiting now to give you a thrill,

So come, my friend, come take a look,
I am a very special old book,

My binding is cracked, but my heart is whole.
Looking at me is like finding gold.



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