There’s a special kind of magic that happens when you open a box of old family photographs. Faces from long ago seem to peer right back at you, familiar and mysterious all at once. You might recognize a smile that looks like your own or a house that still remains in the family. But sometimes, despite your best guesses, you’re left wondering: Who are you?
Last week, while finishing up the big photo-scanning project I started a couple of weeks ago, I had that exact moment. While scanning a hat box full of photos, I came across a lovely portrait of a young woman sitting in a yard holding two children. Her expression was one of pure happiness. You could truly feel the love she had for those children. The photo was mixed in with a bunch of old Polaroids, so there weren’t others with it to compare or tie it to an event or a particular line of the family. It was as though it had somehow lost its way and ended up being tossed aside and forgotten. No name. No date. No story. Nothing that gave any indication of who she was or how she tied into my husband's family.
My heart sank a little. At that moment, I realized I was holding a piece of my husband’s family story—one that might never be fully told.
Someone once knew her name. Someone once loved her enough to want to capture that moment forever. She had a life and a story worth preserving. But somewhere along the way, that was lost, all because no one took the time to write down a couple of details on the back of a photo. One minute of effort would have carried her name and her story on for future generations to cherish.
We always think, “I know that’s my son with his first puppy; I don’t need to write his name on the back of that photo,” or “I’ll remember that his grandmother had just died and that little puppy brought back a bit of happiness to him.” Seventy years from now, someone will pick up that picture, look at it, and never know who he was or why that moment mattered enough for me to capture it on film. Don’t let the people who came before us be forgotten. Don’t let their stories be lost.
Time marches on, and all those photos you have stored in the closet will someday be sitting in someone else’s closet. Make sure you honor each of the people in those photos with at least their name, if nothing else.
When we label our photos, we’re not just organizing files. We’re creating a bridge between generations, a thread that connects past to present. A name transforms an image from a face into a person. It tells future generations, “This was your great-grandmother Martha,” or “This was your Grandpa James, who built the house you live in today.”
Every label, every note, every caption you add is a thread that helps keep your family story intact. Without those details, even the most beautiful photograph can eventually become just a mystery face in a box at a thrift store.
A name transforms an image from a face into a person. It gives context, identity, and a place in the family story. “Unknown woman” becomes “Great-Grandma Ada Smith, age 20, around 1910, Holmes County, Ohio.” That one label turns a mystery into a memory.
Without names, even the most precious photos risk becoming silent mysteries. And once those details are lost, they’re often gone forever.
As I continued sorting through the pile, I came across another photo, this time of a young man leaning against an old car, his sleeves rolled up, a proud grin on his face. Scrawled faintly on the back in pencil were the words: “Uncle Ray, summer 1946, just got his first car.”
That little note stopped me in my tracks. Suddenly, this wasn’t just a snapshot of a man and a car. It was a moment in time, full of excitement and possibility, captured right after World War II.
That’s the power of labeling. It brings life back into the photo. It lets future generations step into that moment, understand it, and feel it.
You don’t have to know everything to get started. Even a little information can make a world of difference. Here’s how I approach labeling to make it manageable and meaningful:
1. Start with the basics:
Who, what, when, and where. Even if you only know one of those details, jot it down. “Unknown woman, possibly from the Johnson family, taken around 1930” is so much better than leaving it blank.
2. Label both physically and digitally:
If you’re labeling printed photos, use a soft pencil on the back or an archival-safe pen—never a ballpoint pen that can bleed through. For digital images, rename your files and add metadata or notes in your photo software. (If you’d like me to do a post on how to add metadata, let me know.)
3. Be consistent:
Create a simple digital naming system that works for you, such as:
Surname_Firstname_Event_Year_Location
Example: Hochstetler_Iva_Wedding_1910_HolmesCountyOH
4. Make notes of the unknowns:
Create a box or folder for “Unidentified” photos, and record any clues you do have: background details, landmarks, or family resemblances. You might solve the mystery later with help from relatives, old records, or another labeled photograph.
Labeling can feel like a big project, especially if you have hundreds of photos waiting. But here’s the truth: every name you add is a gift to the future. Someday, a grandchild or great-niece will open that same box and whisper, “Oh, that’s Maggie!”
They’ll know where they came from, not just because the photo survived, but because you took the time to put a name on the back of it.
Each label is an act of preservation, but also an act of love.
Pull out one old album or box that’s been sitting in the closet for years. Sit down with it and start labeling what you can. Call a relative if you’re unsure about a face—especially older relatives. They may know exactly who it is, or even recall the day, place, or story behind the photograph. The stories will start to unfold before you, one name at a time.
Because when we label our photos, we give our ancestors back their voices. And we make sure their stories will never fade. Someday, someone will hold that same photograph in their hands. And because of your care, they’ll whisper the name out loud and remember. We will have honored them in the best way possible: we remembered them.