The adventures and various works of a photographer, road tripper, former patron of the local arts, aspiring app developer, and late night coffee drinker and conversationalist.
Now that we're more than a month into 2026, it's past time to formalize my plans for the year as far as what I'm hoping to accomplish, and what I am in need of to achieve those goals. There are the usual resolutions having to do with improving my overall health and aspects of my social life, and, as with last year, there's the need to compile a list of items I need to be on the lookout for to realize my blog and various personal projects. And so, once again, I've compiled my list of "must have" and "would be nice" items that will help make those goals and aspirations a reality throughout 2026. If anyone is aware of a source for any of the following items, or has some he or she is willing to donate, potentially sell, or just allow the use of for various blog features and/or research projects, please reach out to me.
New York-born photographer Arthur Rothstein made a name for himself with his many series of photos documenting America. His long career earned him recognition for his work as a photojournalist, author, and teacher, but it is perhaps his Great Depression era work, undertaken at the behest of the U.S. Farm Security Administration, for which he is best remembered today. In 1942, this assignment brought him to North Texas and to the old Fort Worth-Dallas Highway, where his photographer's eye led him to capture a string of period businesses and landmarks along the way. These images would become important historical records of their period in history, all of them eventually seeing reproduction on prints, postcards, and historical publications and websites time and time again in the decades since.
Emma Lucore's first Fort Worth studios were at 109 E 3rd Street, next door to the original Fort Worth Opera House, and at 808 Main Street, one block north of husband Bassett's wood and coal yard. Both these original studio locations are still in use today by active businesses. I paid a few visits to the area to get a look at the sites as they stand in the 21st century. On one of my visits, I was accompanied by a friend.
Detail of 1889 Sanborn insurance map, recording the Fort Worth Opera House and photo studio next door
Continue reading "Emma Lucore follow up: Visiting the old locations in 2025"
(Update: I visit the old Fort Worth studio locations in this follow up post)
If you're a follower of this blog and website, you know that one of my interests is photography, both contemporary and historical. I've featured several collections of vintage and antique photos alongside my own, and I'm currently in the midst of a longish-term project to chronicle the histories of early local photographers. Toward this end, about five months ago, I began assembling a collection of Fort Worth-area cabinet cards. These included works by Burdge, Daniel, Mignon, Swartz, Thomason & Leffler, Works, and one of my rare acquisitions from a female photographer, Emma Lucore. I'd never heard of Emma Lucore before then, and I decided to have a look into who she was and how long her studio was in operation.
Some time ago I acquired this original copy of a map of early Dallas. The map was advertised as being from 1902, but the streets as laid out are more indicative of Dallas in the late 1880s. The map shows not only the layout of Dallas's road system as it existed in the late 19th century, but also shows the original names of a great number of streets before subsequent changes were made over succeeding decades. Sycamore north of Commerce Street hasn't yet been renamed to Akard, and Carondelet north of Pacific Avenue, by the Trinity River, hasn't yet been renamed as an extension of Ross Avenue. Present-day Record Street still shows as Jefferson, Ervay Street is still Oleander north of Pacific Avenue, and the route of present-day Saint Paul Street still exists as Masten and Evergreen Streets. Streets that are long gone, such as Calhoun and Walnut Streets north of Carondelet, are depicted. And there are also some slight inaccuracies: for example, Harwood is amusingly misspelled as "Hardwood" south of Commerce Street. Lastly, you can see the original alignment of the Trinity River before its relocation and straightening in 1928. Oak Cliff, Dallas's then-sister city and not yet annexed, is not represented.
The map page, which has a map of San Francisco on the other side, was one page of what was clearly a larger volume. It's likely that the same map was reproduced year after year in whatever volume this was (assuming it was a recurring collection). Thus, it's possible that my particular copy does indeed date to 1902. Without seeing the entire collection, I can't be sure.
You can download this scan in a larger size here. I've also uploaded it to the Internet Archive in an extra large size.
I believe this type of historical information should be made easily available and accessible to the public, not barricaded behind paywalls or hoarded behind closed doors by museums, archives, and collectors.
