At the turn of the twentieth century, Mary True Randall set up a photography studio with a dark room in her father’s house opposite Pittsford, Vermont’s Village Green. For almost 20 years, her camera captured children in formal poses and at play, quaint scenes of rural life, as well as photos of cows and dogs. Mary died in 1968 at age 89, with no surviving family members to tell her story. For many years, only faint recollections of her work as a photographer endured.
When Lois Blittersdorf (1922–2012), a keen and vibrant member of the Pittsford Historical Society, purchased the Randall house in 1960, she discovered over 800 glass plate negatives in the attic from Mary’s days as a photographer. To save these fragile pieces from the rubbish bin, Lois donated them to the Society. Conscientious volunteers took years to sort and label the negatives, most of them with little identifying information. The process has continued with Pittsford Historical Society’s purchase of a scanner to make digital copies and post images, some of them showing wear, to the society’s Facebook page.
The internet—something Mary could not have imagined in her lifetime—has resulted in detailed identification of some of these photographs, as well as a renewed appreciation of Mary’s skill and eye for beauty. For me, the most revealing image was a self-portrait of Mary, dressed in colonial attire, holding a daguerreotype in her hands. Two framed silhouettes flank her reflected image in a mirror. She looks like she stepped out of a Wallace Nutting photograph.
As the host of a monthly public access television program in Vermont, “Historically Speaking,” I invited a team from Pittsford Historical Society as my guests to share and comment on some of their favorite images. Preparation for the show compelled me to learn more about Mary and why she stopped taking pictures.
The only child of a successful farmer and shoemaker, Mary True Randall graduated from the University of Vermont in 1899. Although she was once listed in Walton’s Vermont Business Directory as a commercial photographer, Mary was never credited with this occupation in census records. Her marriage at age 39 to Leslie Allen, a poultry farmer, ended her work as a photographer. Over the next forty years, Mary served as librarian for Pittsford’s Maclure Library and as a local news correspondent for The Rutland Herald. The 1950 census reveals the dynamics of Mary’s household: she worked 52 weeks a year and earned $800, while her husband, Leslie Allen, had no work hours. After the death of her husband, Mary spent her last years in a nursing home. Nobody wrote an obituary for her or inscribed her name and dates on the Randall monument in Pittsford’s Evergreen Cemetery.
The day before our television studio booking, I made an exciting discovery. My Randall ancestors from Easton, Massachusetts, are the same as Mary’s for the first five generations —thus, making Mary Randall my fourth cousin, three-times removed. Now that I know about my deeper connection to Pittsford, where I have lived for the last twenty-five years, I can honor the graves of my newfound family.
If you're interested in viewing some of Mary Randall's work, it is currently on display at the Vermont History Museum in Montpelier as part of a new exhibit titled A Century of Creative Women in Pittsford.
Guide to Preserving Your Family Treasures
Do you have family photographs gathering dust in your attic? Learn how to properly care for and preserve your photos, documents, and other family treasures with this free guide by American Ancestors Conservator Todd Pattison.
