WHEN A FAMILY PHOTO IS A WITNESS TO A FORGOTTEN LIFE

Family photographs are far more than keepsakes tucked into albums or boxes. For genealogists and family historians, they are primary sources—rich with clues, context, and sometimes revelations that no document ever recorded. A single photograph can confirm relationships, suggest dates, reveal migration patterns, and, in some cases, introduce us to family members whose lives were brief and whose paper trail is heartbreakingly thin.

I was reminded of this power through a photograph shared with me by a cousin—a formal family portrait of my great-grandparents, Johan Schein and his wife Magdalena Hugel. They were my maternal grandmother’s parents. Both died relatively young, in their early fifties, during the 1930s. My grandmother, Katherine Schein Baal, who was their daughter, died in 1966. By the time I began my research, no one was living who could tell me much about Johan or Magdalena beyond their names.

I knew my grandmother had a younger brother, Joseph Schein, whom I remembered well. But when I studied this newly discovered photograph closely, I realized something startling: my grandmother also had an older brother—someone I had never known existed.

In the portrait, my grandmother appears as an infant, sitting on her mother’s lap. Based on what I knew—that she was born in 1906 and appears to be less than a year old—the photograph was likely taken around 1907. Standing near her parents is another child, a small boy who looks to be only a few years older than the baby. His presence raised an immediate question: Who was he?

Using the photograph as my clue, I returned to the records with fresh eyes. I soon discovered that this child was John Schein, the firstborn son, named after his father. He was born on October 2, 1905, in Brookfield, Ohio. Further research revealed a heartbreaking truth: little John died on April 4, 1912, at just six and a half years old. His cause of death was listed as “membranous croup,” a serious viral or bacterial illness sometimes linked to diphtheria and a leading cause of death among young children in the early 1900s.

Without that photograph, I may never have realized John existed at all. He left few records behind, and his short life was not widely remembered within the family. That image is now the only photograph I have of my great-grandparents together, one of the very few images of my grandmother as a baby, and the only known photograph of little John—whose life might otherwise have remained completely hidden.

What to Look for in Family Photographs

Family photographs deserve close, careful examination. When studying an image, consider the following:

• Number of people present – Are there individuals you cannot immediately identify? Count the children carefully.

• Apparent ages – Compare children’s sizes and developmental stages to known birth dates.

• Clothing styles – Fashion can help narrow down a date or time period.

• Studio props or backdrops – These may indicate whether the photo was taken professionally and suggest an era.

• Posture and placement – Who is seated, who is standing, and who is being held can reveal family roles and relationships.

• Photographer or studio imprint – Often printed on the card or back, this can provide a location and timeframe.

• Condition and format – Cabinet cards, cartes de visite, and early prints each point to different decades.

A Call to Preserve and Share

Photographs often outlive memories—and sometimes even records. They can restore lost children to the family narrative, put faces to forgotten names, and remind us that every ancestor, no matter how briefly they lived, mattered.

If you are fortunate enough to have family photographs, study them closely. Label them. Digitize them. And most importantly, share them. A single image, passed along by a cousin, may unlock an entire chapter of your family’s story—just as it did mine.

Because sometimes, the photograph is the only witness left.