"When I saw the size of my grandmother and the size of the knife, I was amazed. I remember her telling me about working at a cannery when she was a girl. She said that when the inspectors came, the company would gather all the children and hide them in a room until the inspectors left." -Lynne Hatt, granddaughter of Minnie Thomas

This photo is a keeper. Sure, it's carefully posed, but the point is well made and convincing. It begs the question: "Why is this nine year old girl allowed to use that huge knife?" And more broadly: "Why is she required to cut and pack fish all day and sometimes at night?" The power of this picture lies in Hine's grasp of the little details. The knife is in the foreground, and because it's stuck in the fence, right in front of Minnie, it looks even bigger than it is. Minnie is thin, and appears to be tall, especially since her arms are extended out toward the camera. So Hine takes advantage of the verticality of the scene. Notice the two posts at the far left, which match the position of the knife. Having her hold the fish in her hands seems contrived (what was she doing with them out there?), but they grab your attention and remind you what the knife is for.

In his earliest days as a photographer, Lewis Hine had an artist's sensibilities. They are evident in his pictures of Ellis Island immigrants in 1905. Somehow, he knew how to compose them in such a way as to show the humanity of these weary but hopeful people entering a new world. By the time he began his 10-year journey for the National Child Labor Committee in 1908, he was both an artist and a skilled craftsman. But child laborers were a whole new subject for him, and they presented a daunting task.

Hine's investigative role made him an unwelcome guest. Some of the children would have regarded him as a suspicious stranger, and his unfamiliar large camera as threatening. He had a limited amount of time to set up his heavy and cumbersome equipment. In those cases where he photographed inside a mill or other workplace, he had very little natural light. Given the nature of his mission, to induce a sympathetic and emotional reaction from viewers, and subsequent support for child labor laws, he had to compose his pictures carefully and purposefully. By 1911, when he photographed Minnie, he had become a consummate artist and a groundbreaking photojournalist.

Given the paternalism that was pervasive in factory towns at the time, and the strict disciplinarian attitudes toward children then, it is not surprising that Minnie would have patiently complied with Hine's request to stand there while he went about setting up his shot. She would have learned to "do as you're told." It's also possible that Hine believed that the location presented a good opportunity, and he had already set up his equipment and was waiting for a child to come along. Whatever the case, he created a magnificent picture.

I first saw the photograph in 2006, but I could not find a single record of the girl. So I reluctantly gave up. In the spring of 2010, having succeeded with more than a dozen children in Eastport, and having acquired some good sources of information in the city, I decided to give Minnie another try. I contacted the city clerk, who has been a great resource, but she could also find nothing on Minnie - no birth record, no marriage record, no death record.

I took note that Hine mentioned in his caption of this photo of Minnie, "She lives in Grand Manan in the winter with her aunt, father and mother live here." Just before I shut off the computer for the night, I took a quick look to see if there were any online records for Grand Manan, a small island community that is part of New Brunswick, and is just a short boat ride from Eastport. The first thing I came up with was a site called Provincial Archives of New Brunswick. It was name searchable, so I entered "Minnie Thomas" in the search engine. Her birth record popped up...just like that!

It said that Minnie Pauline Thomas was born on February 16, 1902, the daughter of Gilbert Tucker and Emeline Thomas (other records found later would say Emmeline or Nettie Emeline). There was another record of the birth, which was identical, except that Minnie's last name was given as Tucker, which seemed more likely. After all, that was her father's name. I went to bed, wondering what the morning would bring when I turned on the computer and followed up. It turned out that the discovery opened up the floodgates, leading me on a frenzied marathon search that revealed one intriguing (and confusing) nugget of information after another. In the space of about four hours, this is what I found, all based mostly on the Provincial Archives, the US and Canada censuses, and records of border crossings between Canada and the US.