the number of dead people is increasing

Isn’t it so weird how the number of dead people is increasing even though the earth stays the same size, so that one day there isn’t going to be room to bury anyone anymore? For my ninth birthday last year, Grandma gave me a subscription to National Geographic, which she calls “the National Geographic”. She also gave me a white blazer, because I only wear white clothes, and it’s too big to wear so it will last me a long time. She also gave me Grandpa’s camera, which I loved for two reasons. I asked why he didn’t take it with him when he left her. 

my paternal great-grandfather, Glenn Hanna
with his portable bellows camera, circa 1910

She said, “Maybe he wanted you to have it.” 

I said, “But I was negative-thirty years old.” 

She said, “Still.” 


Anyway, the fascinating thing was that I read in National Geographic that there are more people alive now than have died in all of human history. In other words, if everyone wanted to play Hamlet at once, they couldn’t, because there aren’t enough skulls. 

― Jonathan Safran Foer

Speaking of dead people, photography runs rampant in my DNA. All my paternal grandfathers were photographers, starting with Joseph Lorenzo Dow Hanna in the 1850s, when photography was a new fangled art. Friday, on my routine Goodwill stop, I spotted this lovely old Kodak accordion camera, a smaller version of the one my great-grandfather Glenn Hanna used, back in 1910. It stirred that crazy photographic gene and I had to bring it home with me. All the grandpas nodded in approval.

image:  Kodak folding accordion camera, my latest Gee-Dub find

move over annie oakley

Ida Belle Lewis Hanna, Albuquerque, 1913

I love this portrait of my paternal great-grandmother, Ida Belle Lewis Hanna. It was taken in about 1913, shortly after her marriage to Glenn Hanna. I love her Oakleyesque pose on the rocks outside Albuquerque, New Mexico, complete with her leather skirt, holster, pistol, bullet belt and just a peep of petticoat.

Both Ida's father, Joseph Thomas Lewis, and Glenn's brother, Guy L. Hanna, were ill with tuberculosis, and the families had relocated to New Mexico for the benefits of the climate. The Lewis family was from Escambia County, Alabama and the Hannas from Howard County, Indiana.

Glenn Hanna and his delivery wagon for J.C. Boyd Grocer, circa 1912

I fondly remember my great-grandma telling me how she met Glenn, a delivery man for J. C. Boyd, Grocer in Albuquerque, behind a huge hanging bunch of bananas in the store. They were married March 19, 1913 in New Mexico, and returned to farm in Howard County, Indiana, after it was sadly determined that Glenn's brother, Guy, would not recover from TB.

As Alan mentioned this week, if it weren't for avid enthusiasts, like my great-grandfather, who invested in the art of photography, we would not have these wonderful treasures, these unique bits of history, family legacy, and art. We owe them a great debt of gratitude.

Glenn with his portable bellows camera, circa 1913

This is a Sepia Saturday post.

sepia saturday, double date 1913

These are more wonderful photos from my grandfather's collection.
On the left, is my Great-Grandfather Glenn Hanna, my Great-
Grandmother Ida Belle Lewis, her brother Austin, and his girlfriend,
Mary Boone. They are on the dry, stony ground of Albuquerque, NM
in the spring of 1913.

Don't you love how the guys are dressed to a tee, with hats, coats
and ties, even in the outback of old New Mexico? Poor Ida Belle
doesn't look too thrilled about the whole episode. Maybe she didn't
fancy the idea of posing on the ground? I happen to think they're
looking glum on purpose to be funny. I would love to know who was
behind the camera. It was most likely Uncle Guy, older brother of
Glenn, our dashing young photographer, from one of my earlier posts.

Here they are on the same day, looking a tad bit happier.
.

For more Sepia Saturday posts, click [HERE].