Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain

21st century digital, america, california, people, photography

Highsmith, Carol M, photographer. Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain, a premier drug store and soda fountain shop for over 100 years located in Old Town Orange, California. 2012

Carol M, Highsmith,  photographer. Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain, a premier drug store and soda fountain shop for over 100 years located in Old Town Orange, California. 2012. Image. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2013633274/. (Accessed August 20, 2016.)

Medium: 1 photograph : digital, tiff file, color.

Call Number: LC-DIG-highsm- 22817 (ONLINE) [P&P]

Notes:
Title, date, and keywords provided by the photographer.
Credit line: The Jon B. Lovelace Collection of California Photographs in Carol M. Highsmith’s America Project, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
Gift; The Capital Group Companies Charitable Foundation in memory of Jon B. Lovelace; 2012; (DLC/PP-2012:063).
Forms part of: Jon B. Lovelace Collection of California Photographs in Carol M. Highsmith’s America Project in the Carol M. Highsmith Archive.

Highsmith, a distinguished and richly published American photographer, has donated her work to the Library of Congress since 1992. Starting in 2002, Highsmith provided scans or photographs she shot digitally with new donations to allow rapid online access throughout the world. Her generosity in dedicating the rights to the American people for copyright free access also makes this Archive a very special visual resource.


Haw Creek photo series: 21st Century Digital (001)

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1906 San Francisco Earthquake

america, american history, california, disaster images, history, vintage image

People standing on Sacramento Street watching the fire in the distance.
Arnold Genthe (photographer)

1906 San Francisco Earthquake - Photograph shows people standing on Sacramento Street watching the fire in the distance. Arnold Genthe (photographer)

The 1906 San Francisco earthquake struck the coast of Northern California at 5:12 a.m. on April 18 with an estimated moment magnitude of 7.8 and a maximum Mercalli intensity of XI (Extreme). Severe shaking was felt from Eureka on the North Coast to the Salinas Valley, an agricultural region to the south of the San Francisco Bay Area. Devastating fires soon broke out in the city and lasted for several days. As a result, about 3,000 people died and over 80% of the city of San Francisco was destroyed. The events are remembered as one of the worst and deadliest natural disasters in the history of the United States. The death toll remains the greatest loss of life from a natural disaster in California’s history and high in the lists of American urban disasters. (Read more at Wikipedia)

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Dispossessed Arkansas farmers–The Bitter Years 006

america, american history, california, great depression, history, life, people, photography

Dispossessed Arkansas farmers.
These people are resettling themselves on the dump outside of Bakersfield, California. 1935
(photographer) Dorothea Lange

Dispossessed Arkansas farmers. These people are resettling themselves on the dump outside of Bakersfield, California. 1935

Note: This was the best version I could find online for this image.


The Bitter Years, in 1962, was Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). The images in the exhibition were personally selected by Steichen from 270,000 photos taken for the Farm Security Administration by a team of photographers employed between 1935 and 1941 to document (primarily) rural America during the Great Depression.

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Migratory Cotton Picker, Eloy, Arizona–The Bitter Years 005

america, american history, arizona, great depression, history, life, people, photography

He has picked cotton all day and stands at the edge of the field and the cotton wagon. Eloy Arizona, 1940
( photographer) Dorothea Lange

He has picked cotton all day and stands at the edge of the field and the cotton wagon. Eloy Arizona–The Bitter Years 005 Dorothea Lange (1940)


The Bitter Years, in 1962, was Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). The images in the exhibition were personally selected by Steichen from 270,000 photos taken for the Farm Security Administration by a team of photographers employed between 1935 and 1941 to document (primarily) rural America during the Great Depression.

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Nettie Featherston–1938.

america, american history, blast from the past, great depression, history, life, people, photography, texas, the bitter years

Dust, Drought, and Depression #3

Woman of the High Plains, “If You Die, You’re Dead –That’s All.”1

Nettie Fetherston - One of two imaages by Dorothea Lange exhibited in the 1960s as Woman of the High Plains - and subsequently published in photography books

It was June 1938. Nettie Featherson was 40 and the mother of three sons when Dorothea Lange, a documentary photographer for the Farm Security Administration, ambled up to “Murray’s Place” near Carey in western Childress county. Inconspicuously, Lange snapped a series of black-and-white shots and handed two nickels to Nettie’s son, Ken. At 45, he still recalls the silver bonanza the photographer brought to the dusty North Texas farm more than 40 years ago. But Lange took back something of her own from the encounter with the Featherstons – a poignant series of photographs depicting a melancholy determined woman wearing a coarse cotton dress… The photographs remain a stark evidence of the poverty Nettie Featherston and thousands of other Americans endured between 1929 and 1948. They tell a story of resolve and perseverance, of survival. Until this year (1979), Nettie Featherston had no knowledge of her fame as the unidentified subject in Lange’s photograph, “Woman of the Plains.” 2

Nettie Fetherston - One of two imaages by Dorothea Lange exhibited in the 1960s as Woman of the High Plains - and subsequently published in photography books

Dorothea Lange’s photos of Elmore City, Oklahoma, native Nettie Featherston were part of the Farm Security Administration’s (FSA) extensive documentation of depression-era, rural America. Lange liked one photo so much that it was included in a series of 15 women in a book called The American Country Woman (1967). The portrait of each woman was paired with an image from their environment. The photograph’s title comes from a larger caption that recorded a conversation between Lange and Featherston, “We made good money pullin’ bolls [cotton], when we could pull. But we’ve had no work since March. When we miss, we set and eat just the same. The worst thing we did was when we sold the car, but we had to sell it to eat, and now we can’t get away from here. We’d like to starve if it hadn’t been for what my sister in Enid sent me. When it snowed last April we had to burn beans to keep warm. You can’t get no relief here until you’ve lived here a year. This county’s a hard county. They won’t help bury you here. If you die, you’re dead, that’s all.”3

Drought years. Texas Panhandle. Windmill. Dorothea Lange (photographer) 1938

Nettie Featherston, with her firm, lined face, slender body, and wind-blown hair, is known to thousands as the subject of “Woman of the Plains,” a series of photographs taken by Dorothea Lange in 1938 as part of the Farm Security Administration’s study of migrant farm workers. The Nebraska State Historical Society has been searching for the people in those pictures to find out how they fared since the Depression, and when the Childress Index reprinted Lange’s series, three people recognized the woman and directed the researchers to her. The 81-year-old widow, who lives alone in Lubbock, had no trouble recalling the back-breaking days in the thirties when her family picked cotton fourteen hours a day. One thing she can’t remember is Dorothea Lange. “You can tell from those pictures how played out I was,” she said, a bit sadly. “But my son – he’s 45 now – he remembers, ‘cause the lady gave him two nickels to keep, and his daddy gave him little tobacco sack to put ‘em in. He was so proud.” 4

Nettie Featherston in the four-room house she shares with her son. Lubbock, Texas. August 1979.

Nettie Featherston in the four-room house she shares with her son. Lubbock, Texas. August 1979. 5

Woman of the High Plains, Texas Panhandle another photo. Nettie Featherston - Dorothea Lange,  (photographer) June 1938

“We were on the road, just trying to find some thing [for a job]. We stopped at a filling station in Carey [Texas], and this cotton grower come by and seen our bedding on top of the car. He asked if weʼd like to go out and pull some bolls [harvest the cotton] for him. We did that all that winter. After that we had to wait for chopping time [in the summer]. My brother went back to Childress and played dominoes. Thatʼs the way we lived, from what he made playing dominoes. “We lived in a little two-room house. Had a wood stove that we cooked blackeye peas on. We ate so many blackeye peas that I never wanted to see another blackeye pea. We even slept on ʼem, laid out pallets on the pods of blackeye peas and hay. Your kids would cry for something to eat and you couldnʼt get it. I just prayed and prayed and prayed all the time that God would take care of us and not let my children starve. All our people left here. They live in California. But we were so poor that we couldnʼt have went to California or nowhere else. “I never much thought about ever living this long [81 years]. I just didnʼt think weʼd survive. If you want to know something, weʼre not living much better now than we did then – as high as everything is. “I remember those times and it seems like Iʼm not satisfied. I have too much on my mind. It seems like I have more temptations put on me than anyone, to see if youʼre able to bear them or not. And every time I ask God to remove this awful burden off my heart, He does.” 6

Woman of the High Plains, Texas Panhandle another photo. Nettie Featherston - Dorothea Lange,  (photographer) June 1938

Woman of the High Plains, Texas Panhandle another photo. Nettie Featherston - Dorothea Lange,  (photographer) June 1938

__________

Nettie Featherston is #005 in the Eyes of the Great Depression series.

__________

  1. Photographs from the American country woman series, NYPL Digital Gallery
  2. Nettie remembers Great Depression, Burlington Hawk Eye, October 29, 1979 retrieved from http://newspaperarchive.com/burlington-hawk-eye/1979-10-29/page-6 on 4/1/2013
  3. Woman of the High Plains “If You Die, You’re Dead–That’s All.” Inspiring Visions, Artists’ Views of the American West, Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas (Accessed 8/24/2016)
  4. Texas Monthly, September 1979, page 102
  5. Photo by Bill Ganzel (Accessed 8/24/2016)
  6. Dorothea Lange’s photo of Nettie Featherston, Wessells Living History Farm, York, Nebraska. (Accessed 8/24/2016)

__________

(Blast from the Past – Iconic images of Woman of the High Plains have already appeared twice on Exit78, one of which was in this post, originally from April 2013.   She also appeared in The Bitter Years, Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s  Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). I am working my way through the images from that exhibition and have brought this post forward to be reposted at the same time as Wife of a Migratory Laborer with 3 Children – The Bitter Years 004.)

Woman of the High Plains products from Exit78 at zazzle.com

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Wife of a migratory laborer with three children.–The Bitter Years 004

america, american history, great depression, history, life, people, photography, texas

Near Childress, Texas. June 1938. “If you die, you’re dead – that’s all.”

Wife of a migratory laborer with three children. Near Childress, Texas. June 1938. "If you die, you're dead - that's all." –The Bitter Years 004

Year after this photo was first published and exhibited, this previously unidentified lady was determined to be a woman named Nettie Fetherston.  For more on her, see Nettie Featherston–1938.

The quote used in The Bitter Years exhibition comes from a larger caption that recorded a conversation between Lange and Featherston, “We made good money pullin’ bolls [cotton], when we could pull. But we’ve had no work since March. When we miss, we set and eat just the same. The worst thing we did was when we sold the car, but we had to sell it to eat, and now we can’t get away from here. We’d like to starve if it hadn’t been for what my sister in Enid sent me. When it snowed last April we had to burn beans to keep warm. You can’t get no relief here until you’ve lived here a year. This county’s a hard county. They won’t help bury you here. If you die, you’re dead, that’s all.” (Woman of the High Plains “If You Die, You’re Dead–That’s All.” Inspiring Visions, Artists’ Views of the American West, Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas)


The Bitter Years, in 1962, was Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). The images in the exhibition were personally selected by Steichen from 270,000 photos taken for the Farm Security Administration by a team of photographers employed between 1935 and 1941 to document (primarily) rural America during the Great Depression.

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Smooth

america, history, humor, random topic

Definition of 'smooth'

random topic 002

Design drawing for stained glass Nativity memorial window, Work on unmounted paper; stained but intact and smooth.

Design drawing for stained glass Nativity memorial window,
Work on unmounted paper; stained but intact and smooth.
1 drawing : watercolor, ink.
J. & R. Lamb Studios.


Nez Percé sweat-lodge - Landscape, lashed pole framed with blanket, large smooth stones in dry river bed, house, fence and hills in background. Edward S. Curtis (photographer) 1910

Nez Percé sweat-lodge
Landscape, lashed pole framed with blanket, large smooth stones in dry river bed, house, fence and hills in background. Edward S. Curtis (photographer) 1910


Smyth & Rice present Willie Collier in his new farce Mr. Smooth; Other Title: Mr. Smooth; 1899 lithograph

Smyth & Rice present Willie Collier in his new farce Mr. Smooth;
Other Title: Mr. Smooth;
1899 lithograph


‘The path of national greatness never is easy or smooth’ - President Roosevelt, Nahant, Mass. 1902 image showing Teddy Roosevelt speaking on a platform with a group of people sitting behind him.

‘The path of national greatness never is easy or smooth
President Roosevelt, Nahant, Mass.
1902 image showing Teddy Roosevelt speaking on a platform with a group of people sitting behind him.


Two women sitting on rock in middle of mirror-smooth lake. Mirror Lake, where nature multiplies her charms—looking (N.E.) to Mt. Watkins, Yosemite Valley, California (1902)

Two women sitting on rock in middle of mirror-smooth lake.
Mirror Lake, where nature multiplies her charms
Looking (N.E.) to Mt. Watkins, Yosemite Valley, California (1902)


15 inch Rodman smooth bore cannon at Battery Rodgers, near Alexandria, during American Civil War

15 inch Rodman smooth bore cannon
Battery Rodgers,
near Alexandria,
American Civil War

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Punishment–39 lashes–and Twelve Years a Slave.1–The Flogging of the Slave Patsey.

america, american history, history, life, loisiana, random topic

random topic 001

The Staking Out and Flogging of the Girl Patsey - from 1859 publication of Twelve Years a Slave

“…being found guilty thereof, before any justice of the peace, shall receive not exceeding thirty-nine lashes, by order of such justice, well laid on his or her bare back.”2

“A fairly normal punishment: 39 lashes across the back. Not life-threatening, but extremely painful.” “Once they were cleaned up, a slave would be back at work within a week, you know.”3

“These are men, women, and families who owned a few slaves throughout their lives,” says Stacey. “The recession would hit and they’d have to sell off a few of their slaves. How did they treat their slaves? I suspect it’s just as uneven as their richer counterparts, but we don’t know that. My sense is that they’re ranges of extreme. Either they were very benevolent or they were very, very sadistic.”4

In about 1843, a slave named Platt was sold to Edwin Epps, a cruel small slaveholder who drove his slaves hard and punished  his slaves frequently and indiscriminately.  Platt had been born free as Solomon Northrup who, two years earlier, had been abducted and sold into slavery. Northup later writes, in Twelve Years a Slave, that the sounds of whipping were heard every day and describes the brutal flogging of a slave named Patsey:

It was no uncommon thing with him (Eppes) to prostrate Aunt Phebe with a chair or stick of wood; but the most cruel whipping that ever I was doomed to witness—one I can never recall with any other emotion than that of horror —was inflicted on the unfortunate Patsey.

It has been seen that the jealousy and hatred of Mistress Epps made the daily life of her young and agile slave completely miserable. I am happy in the belief that on numerous occasions I was the means of averting punishment from the inoffensive girl. In Epps’ absence the mistress often ordered me to whip her without the remotest provocation. I would refuse, saying that I feared my master’s displeasure, and several times ventured to remonstrate with her against the treatment Patsey received. I endeavored to impress her with the truth that the latter was not responsible for the acts of which she complained, but that she being a slave, and subject entirely to her master’s will, he alone was answerable.

At length “the green-eyed monster” crept into the soul of Epps also, and then it was that he joined with his wrathful wife in an infernal jubilee over the girl’s miseries.

On a Sabbath day in hoeing time, not long ago, we were on the bayou bank, washing our clothes, as was our usual custom. Presently Patsey was missing. Epps called aloud, but there was no answer. No one had observed her leaving the yard, and it was a wonder with us whither she had gone. In the course of a couple of hours she was seen approaching from the direction of Shaw’s. This man, as has been intimated, was a notorious profligate, and withal not on the most friendly terms with Epps. Harriet, his black wife, knowing Patsey’s troubles, was kind to her, in consequence of which the latter was in the habit of going over to see her every opportunity. Her visits were prompted by friendship merely, but the suspicion gradually entered the brain of Epps, that another and a baser passion led her thither—that it was not Harriet she desired to meet, but rather the unblushing libertine, his neighbor. Patsey found her master in a fearful rage on her return. His violence so alarmed her that at first she attempted to evade direct answers to his questions, which only served to increase his suspicions. She finally, however, drew herself up proudly, and in a spirit of indignation boldly denied his charges.

“Missus don’t give me soap to wash with, as she does the rest,” said Patsey, “and you know why. I went over to Harriet’s to get a piece,” and saying this, she drew it forth from a pocket in her dress and exhibited it to him. “That’s what I went to Shaw’s for, Massa Epps,” continued she; “the Lord knows that was all.”

“You lie, you black wench!” shouted Epps.

“I don’t lie, massa. If you kill me, I’ll stick to that.”

“Oh! I’ll fetch you down. I’ll learn you to go to Shaw’s. I’ll take the starch out of ye,” he muttered fiercely through his shut teeth.

Then turning to me, he ordered four stakes to be driven into the ground, pointing with the toe of his boot to the places where he wanted them. When the stakes were driven down, he ordered her to be stripped of every article of dress. Ropes were then brought, and the naked girl was laid upon her face, her wrists and feet each tied firmly to a stake. Stepping to the piazza, he took down a heavy whip, and placing it in my hands, commanded me to lash her. Unpleasant as it was, I was compelled to obey him. Nowhere that day, on the face of the whole earth, I venture to say, was there such a demoniac exhibition witnessed as then ensued.

Mistress Epps stood on the piazza among her children, gazing on the scene with an air of heartless satisfaction. The slaves were huddled together at a little distance, their countenances indicating the sorrow of their hearts. Poor Patsey prayed piteously for mercy, but her prayers were vain. Epps ground his teeth, and stamped upon the ground, screaming at me, like a mad fiend, to strike harder.

“Strike harder, or your turn will come next, you scoundrel,” he yelled.

“Oh, mercy, massa! —oh! have mercy, do. Oh, God! pity me,” Patsey exclaimed continually, struggling fruitlessly, and the flesh quivering at every stroke.

When I had struck her as many as thirty times, I stopped, and turned round toward Epps, hoping he was satisfied; but with bitter oaths and threats, he ordered me to continue. I inflicted ten or fifteen blows more. By this time her back was covered with long welts, intersecting each other like net work. Epps was yet furious and savage as ever, demanding if she would like to go to Shaw’s again, and swearing he would flog her until she wished she was in h—l.

Throwing down the whip, I declared I could punish her no more. He ordered me to go on, threatening me with a severer flogging than she had received, in case of refusal. My heart revolted at the inhuman scene, and risking the consequences, I absolutely refused to raise the whip. He then seized it himself, and applied it with ten-fold greater force than I had. The painful cries and shrieks of the tortured Patsey, mingling with the loud and angry curses of Epps, loaded the air. She was terribly lacerated — I may say, without exaggeration, literally flayed. The lash was wet with blood, which flowed down her sides and dropped upon the ground. At length she ceased struggling. Her head sank listlessly on the ground. Her screams and supplications gradually decreased and died away into a low moan. She no longer writhed and shrank beneath the lash when it bit out small pieces of her flesh. I thought that she was dying.

It was the Sabbath of the Lord. The fields smiled in the warm sunlight —the birds chirped merrily amidst the foliage of the trees —peace and happiness seemed to reign everywhere, save in the bosoms of Epps and his panting victim and the silent witnesses around him. The tempestuous emotions that were raging there were little in harmony with the calm and quiet beauty of the day. I could look on Epps only with unutterable loathing and abhorrence, and thought within myself—” Thou devil, sooner or later, somewhere in the course of eternal justice, thou shalt answer for this sin!”

Finally, he ceased whipping from mere exhaustion, and ordered Phebe to bring a bucket of salt and water. After washing her thoroughly with this, I was told to take her to her cabin. Untying the ropes, I raised her in my arms. She was unable to stand, and as her head rested on my shoulder, she repeated many times, in a faint voice scarcely perceptible, “Oh, Platt —oh, Platt!” but nothing further. Her dress was replaced, but it clung to her back, and was soon stiff with blood. We laid her on some boards in the hut, where she remained a long time, with eyes closed and groaning in agony. At night Phebe applied melted tallow to her wounds, and so far as we were able, all endeavored to assist and console her. Day after day she lay in her cabin upon her face, the sores preventing her resting in any other position.


  1. I started this researching for this post searching on the word punishment.  From there, since I am interested in the civil war and what led to it, I progressed to searching on slave punishment. In the 1840s statutes of the State of Mississippi, I repeatedly saw the penalty “shall receive not exceeding shall receive not exceeding thirty-nine lashes, by order of such justice, well laid on his or her bare back.thirty-nine lashes, by order of such justice, well laid on his or her bare back.”  A search on thirty-nine lashes led to an article on the movie Twelve Years a Slave and, ultimately, to the flogging of the slave Patsey.
  2. The Statutes of the State of Mississippi of a Public and General Nature, with the Constitutions of the United States and of this State; 1840
  3. 39 lashes was a normal punishment, The historic reality of 12 years a slave under expert scrutiny; March 5, 2014; by Esha Metiary. Leiden University Weekly Mare. http://www.mareonline.nl/archive/2014/03/05/39-lashes-was-a-normal-punishment (Accessed August 18, 2016.)
  4. “What’ll Become of Me?” Finding the Real Patsey of 12 Years a Slave; March 2, 2014 by Katie Calautti; Vanity Fair http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2014/03/patsey-12-years-a-slave (Accessed August 18, 2016.)
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Coal miner’s child taking home kerosene for lamps.–The Bitter Years 003

america, american history, great depression, history, life, people, photography, west virginia

Company houses, coal tipple in background. Pursglove, Scotts Run, West Virginia. September, 1938. (photographer Marion Post Wolcott) 30180-M2

Coal miner's child taking home kerosene for lamps. Company houses, coal tipple in background. Pursglove, Scotts Run, West Virginia.–The Bitter Years 003


The Bitter Years, in 1962, was Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). The images in the exhibition were personally selected by Steichen from 270,000 photos taken for the Farm Security Administration by a team of photographers employed between 1935 and 1941 to document (primarily) rural America during the Great Depression.

On Flicker: Coal miner’s child taking home kerosene for lamps

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Coal miner’s child. Omar, West Virginia.–The Bitter Years 002

america, american history, great depression, history, life, people, photography, west virginia

October, 1935. (photographer Ben Shahn)

Coal miner's child. Omar, West Virginia. October , 1935, Ben Shahn–The Bitter Years 002


The Bitter Years, in 1962, was Edward Steichen’s last exhibition as Director of the Department of Photography at New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA). The images in the exhibition were personally selected by Steichen from 270,000 photos taken for the Farm Security Administration by a team of photographers employed between 1935 and 1941 to document (primarily) rural America during the Great Depression.

0 comments