Photographs as Investigative Tools

There's an old saying that say a photo is worth a thousand words.  I say they're priceless.   They capture a moment in time, a memory, a thought - and transport it through time and space.  They have the power to make you smile and laugh, or bring tears to your eyes.  Sometimes they have the power to solve the unknown mystery.

When I spend time scanning photos, or cleaning and repairing them, I have the honour of spending time in that moment.  I look beyond the people, or the place.  I start to notice the little things.  The jewellery they're wearing, the shine on their shoes, the leaves starting to turn on that tree in the distance, the farm tool leaning on the fence behind them.  Occasionally the expression on the persons face is so vivid, it makes me wonder what they were thinking, how they were feeling, wonder what they were looking at on the other side of the lense.

The one thing I love to do is to notice all those little things, and to use them to solve other mysteries.

I'll give you an example, albeit an innocuous one.  Take this picture, a seemingly simple, almost mundane photo of my brother, taken around 1968.

Ya ya, I know - he was a cute kid. I looked just like him, only cuter, dontcha know ? 

Where was the photo taken ?  My first guess is at my Grandma & Grandpa Lathems, which I confirm looking at the large vent on the floor in relation to that door opening.     But aside from the cute subject and location, what else can I learn ?

This side shows me two things.  First, the armed table chair in the background ?  That chair is currently sitting in my dining room.  Not remarkable news, it's just kind of neat to spot things like that in old photos.

Now look at the large upholstered chair in the foreground.  That detail helped me confirm the location of a photo I have of my Dad, taken around the time he left for university.  Comparing details of photographs, even though they're taken years apart, is one of the biggest clues to solving photographic mysteries.

This area of the photo provides me with alot of information:

First, at a high resolution I can clearly read the main headline of the newspaper lying under this table.  It's the Toronto Star sports section, and the headline reads "Smile when you say that (Mister?)".  Using that detail, and checking out the Toronto Star's online archives, I could determine the actual date of this photograph.

(Toronto Star Archives are easy to search, at fairly reasonable rates.  Right now you can search 1945 free of charge.)

This newspaper would suggest, although not confirm 100%, that my Dad was in town when the photo was taken.  (My grandparents were avid newspaper readers, although I'm not sure their level of interest in sports in particular.)

Then there's the table itself:

Same table, discovered in the basement during the great cleanup of 2010, unfortunately it did not withstand the flooding all that well. 

Now, what's on top of that table in the photo ?

First, the figurines.  The horse on the left is an old tin wind-up horse, made in "Imperial Japan".  I found the toy itself in the cleanup of 2010 too.   Upon closer examination, we believe it was originally my Dad's, which would date it in the 1940's, maybe 1950's.    A tin wind-up horse very similar to this, with slightly more paint remaining recently sold on Ebay for $348 to a collector in the US.

A quick bit of research suggests that while most "windup" tin toys were originally made in Germany, around the end of the 19th century Japan took advantage of the malleable metal, and started to develop sophisticated tin printing and punching machines.  They were able to start capturing an even bigger share of the tin-toy market, thus their prevalence in North America in the mid 1900's.   Of course production of the toys stopped during WWII, as both the metal and factories were devoted entirely to the war effort.    Following the end of the war, under American occupation, the Japanese factories began producing the windup toys again.  General MacArthur encouraged low-profit, high-labour industries such as toy making in Japan, and once again the market was flooding with them.

Old toys are fascinating sources of information on the past.  I've rescued quite a few from my grandparents home, which I may discuss at some point in the future when I've had a chance to do some research on them.

The ceramic figuring also survived the cleanup of 2010, and is among a series of ceramic figurines - most with a humorous or comical slant - currently occupying a box in my parents home.  They're among the things I *should* part with, but every time I glance at them, they bring a smile to my face, and I put them back in the box on the shelf....   (we won't discuss the number of boxes of things I have that fall into that category)

Fast forward to another photo, this time from 2012:

Yes, it's the same Singer sewing machine, still in perfect working order.  I'm hoping to give it a home in my future "crafting and family history preservation" room, currently in the works.


And there you have it.  While I did know the history of some of those items, seeing them in that photograph helped me place them - geographically, and historically.  It gave me a better idea of where they may have originated, who they belonged to at a specific time, and what they might have meant to the family in some context.    Using this method has also helped me figure out who various people are in a photo, where or when the photo was taken, or even the event at which it was taken.

Take a look at your photos with a different eye next time, and you may be surprised what you discover.

The Shawville Poltergeist

June 25, 1885, the S.S. Siberian came ashore in Quebec, carrying 140 children who were residents of the Quarrier's Orphan Homes of Scotland.   Miss Bilborough had brought them to Canada for a new life.

Aboard the ship was a young girl named Dinah Burden McLean, who had been born to Lauchlan McLean and Jane Tait in Glasgow, Scotland in 1876.  (According to the 1881 Census of Scotland, by the age of 4 she was living alone in a home for the impoverished.)  At the age of 9, she was a prime candidate for adoption in the new country, as she would be old enough to help with household chores, and with younger children in a family.

By the time she was 11, she had been adopted by George and Susannah Dagg, a nice young farming couple who lived in Claredon, Quebec, approximately 7 miles outside of the Village of Shawville.  The Daggs already had two children, Susan, 4 and John, 2, with more soon on the way.  Dinah was a welcome help for the growing family.

Soon after her arrival, strange things began to happen.  Money would move about the house.  Streaks of manure would appear on the floor or walls.  The Daggs blamed this event on a young lad named Dean who worked for them on the farm.   But when Mr. Dagg took Dean to the magistrate for dismissal, more streaks appeared in his absence, vindicating the young man.

 

 

Then things began to escalate. Milk pans were over turned. Puddles of water would appear on the floor.  Stones were thrown into the windows.  A neighbour was hit in the head by a  potato. Chairs flew through the air.    One time, right before the Dagg's eyes, the invisible Being seemed to rip the braid of hair from Dinah's head, causing her to scream in pain.  The braid was partially torn, so badly that they had to cut her hair short.

 

 

The events continued through to mid November, frequently witnessed by neighbours and visitors to the farm.   Word began to spread to neighbouring towns and villages, eventually reaching Athens, Ontario where caught the attention of artist and journalist, Percy Franklin Woodcock.  He arrived on the farm in late November, curious and eager to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Dinah soon confessed to Woodcock that she not only heard the Being, but she saw him too - in the woodshed.  Dinah took Woodcock and George Dagg to the woodshed where they called out to the strange Being.  It responded, reportedly being heard by all 3 of them, in a gruff voice filled with obscenities.   When asked who it was, it replied it was the Devil and tried to scare them off.  

Woodcock and Dagg stood their ground though, and refused to leave.  Eventually the Being seemed to calm down.  And when asked why It was bothering the Dagg family, It simply said "just to have fun.".

After this exchange, Woodcock gathered together a group of neighbours and town folk to finalize his report.  To "prove" the Poltergeists existence, he had each member sign the petition/report attesting to their observations.   This report has been transcribed in several sources, such as in the book Ghost Stories of Canada" by John Robert Colombo.

 

What happened to the Poltergeist, and little Dinah is a matter for the history books.  It appears the Poltergeist left the property sometime in late November or early December, after the confrontation in the woodshed.  The exact events surrounding its departure are a bit sketchy.  Some say he agreed to leave, but that prior to doing so he turned into a beautiful spirit clothes in white robes that sang with the voice of angels.    Others say he simply vanished.

 

As for young Dinah, I haven't been able to confirm where she went (or if she stayed) after the events of 1889.  She does not appear on the 1891 Census (although I have more sources to exhaust in that matter).   One story is a bit disturbing.  It claims that shortly after the events in the woodshed, Dinah went to a cousin's home a mile away from her home.   A man came to the door and said her father needed her, and she had to come with him right away.   The story concludes by saying Dinah was never seen from again.

While this ending is certainly intriguing, and would be a classic horror movie ending, it seems unlikely.  The story of the Poltergeist made headline news across the country, and there were numerous witnesses who swore an affidavit as to its existence.  It seems highly unlikely that news of Dinah's disappearance would not have raised eyebrows and garnered public attention.

For More Information

In the interests of brevity, I've kept alot of the fantastical details of the events out of this entry.  But if you're curious, take a look at some of these sources.

1. Shawville Poltergeist -- Paranormal Studies & Investigations Canada
2. Ottawa Citizen Article - April 9, 1957 (source of photographs)
3. "The Ghost that Talked" (1957) - a National Film Board of Canada Movie
4. Ghosts UK
5. Ghost Stories of Ontario by John Colombo (excerpt) 
6. Your Ghost Story - A Visit to the Dagg Farm (2011) 

 

How do they fit in the tree ?

The DAGG family is one of the first families of the Shawville, Clarendon, Pontiac Quebec region.  (in fact, Shawville was originally known as Daggville).  

 

George Dagg's first cousin, Susan Jane Dagg was married to John James Latham, my great grandpa James Hammond Lathem's first cousin.   Which makes George Dagg the 1st cousin of the wife of my 1st cousin 3x removed.

 

 

More To Do

There is always more to do.  In this case I'd like to:

• find out what happened to Dinah Burden McLean.  Did she stay with the Dagg's ?  Did she vanish ?  Does she appear back in the Quarrier's home in Ontario or Quebec ? 
• try to find a current photograph of the Dagg farm house for the tree archives.  (Visit the farm ?)
• watch the 1957 movie by the National Film Board of Canada  - "The Ghost that Talked", which is based on the Dagg Poltergeist.

How it all began

January, 1972: I met my paternal grandmother, Bula Margaret Elizabeth Lefave Lathem, for the first time. I like to think that she was in such a hurry to meet me, that she didn't even take the time to take off her hat.

For me, it was love at first sight. Grandma was a grandma through and through. She baked, and crocheted (except on Sundays!), always had a mint in her purse, and a kleenex in her pocket. Her smile would light up a room, reaching right to her eyes and making everyone feel welcome. Her laughter was like a song in the breeze, her voice was soothing and light. She had the softest skin imaginable - holding her hand felt like being encompassed in warm silk.

Over the years, whether she consciously realised it or not, Grandma taught me the importance of family, and the stories of days gone by. Whether it the times Uncle Sam pulled a fast one on her mother; or when Grandpa had tried (in vain) to teach her to drive; how the girl next door was buried in a glass casket, or how Great Grandpa Lathem could have circled the globe with his daily walks. There was always a story to tell, always a family member to learn more about.

My Grandma left big shoes to fill when she passed away, but she also left an unimaginable wealth of memories, and plenty of stories to share. Hopefully, from time to time, you'll get a glimpse of even just a small part of her light and love through my writing.