Vintage Everyday

What initially intrigued about the CDV mugshots of Harris is that he was photographed twice. He has a scruffy beard in one photo, and in the other, he’s clean-shaven. His beard was minimal. It doesn’t hide his mouth, chin or jaw line to any extent. Both photos were taken of him in exactly the same position. So why take two photos?

To answer that question we need to delve a bit deeper into the story. Harris and a criminal pal named James Goughty were arrested in New York City on December 8, 1893 for a “sneak thief” robbery in Newark, New Jersey, according to an article that appeared on December 9th in The Evening World (New York, NY). The article stated that Emma Zillaux, the storekeeper of the business that was robbed, identified the men after she saw their photos in the New York City Rogues’ Gallery. As you can see by reading the back of his cards, Harris was not photographed in Newark until two weeks after his arrest in New York. This detail explains why two photos were taken of him.

In between the New York arrest on the 8th and the taking his photo in New Jersey on the 22nd, he’d likely been held in jail and been unable to shave. Assuming he was normally clean-shaven, the police wanted his mugshot to show him like that. But it’s interesting that they also photographed him with the stubble. Maybe they took that photo first, then realized their mistake, shaved him and took another photo. It’s interesting that they kept both photos.

Since the New York City police also had his mugshot, it will come as no surprise that Harris Lyons had a long and interesting criminal career; one that even included stealing silver from a descendant of Alexander Hamilton. Cath Giesbrecht, his great grandniece, has researched Harris and written a fascinating story about him. Here’s a link to her Substack article about her Uncle Harris.

In October 1862, during the Battle of Perryville, Kentucky, Decker was serving in the 4th U.S. Artillery when his gun prematurely exploded while he was reloading. The accident resulted in the traumatic loss of both his forearms.

Dissatisfied with the simple, non-functional prosthetics available at the time, Decker spent three years (1862–1865) conceptualizing a superior alternative. While he could not physically build them himself due to his injury, he sketched the designs and supervised their construction, reportedly guiding his wife or other skilled craftsmen to complete the mechanical limbs.

His prosthetics were mechanical and functional rather than merely cosmetic. They allowed him to perform delicate daily tasks, including feeding and dressing himself, carrying packages, and even picking up objects as small as a pin. Remarkably, he used the devices to relearn how to write legibly.

In 1867, the Army Medical Museum in Washington, D.C., invited him to demonstrate his invention, which was officially documented as “hitherto unrivaled for ingenuity and utility.”

Decker’s independence and the dexterity afforded by his prosthetics led to a long post-war career as a doorman (doorkeeper) for the U.S. House of Representatives. Historical accounts note that he was once a “formidable police officer” in the Congressional gallery, successfully handling disorderly individuals despite his disability. 

The earliest form of wooden pipes were single logs, typically from elm or oak, with a hole bored or carved through the center using an auger. The ends were often tapered (male end) and reamed (female or “bell” end) to fit together, forming a seal that became watertight as the wood swelled when soaked with water.

Later, especially for larger diameter pipes in the American West, pipelines were constructed from numerous wooden staves (planks) held together by metal bands or hoops. This method allowed for the construction of continuous, large-diameter pipes. Joints were often reinforced with metal collars or bands and sealed with natural materials like pitch or clay to prevent leaks. Rot-resistant woods such as redwood, cedar, fir, elm, and oak were preferred to ensure longevity.

Wooden pipes were widely used in Europe and became the primary water main material in North American cities like Boston, Philadelphia, and Montreal in the 18th and 19th centuries. They were a practical and abundant alternative to cast iron, which was not always readily available.

Wooden pipelines, particularly the large stave type, were a common and effective solution for transporting water over long distances for agriculture, industry, and burgeoning settlements in the American West and Pacific Northwest.

As industrialization made cast iron pipes more economical and reliable, wooden pipes were phased out, though some systems remained in use well into the mid-20th century.