WEB OF FRIENDS FIND HOME FOR A RELIC OF VICTORIAN PAST

Saturday, July 31, 2004

Victorian dressmaking meets 21st century blogging.

Since 1897, two dresses have been hanging in one or another Seebach or Hefelbower closet. They belonged to Edna Mae Loomis, who married Samuel Gring Hefelbower on May 6, 1897, in Troy, Pa. One was her wedding dress, and the other her going-away dress, the one she wore when the newlyweds left for their honeymoon.

I have them because Edna and Samuel's daughter Beth Hefelbower Seebach was my husband's mother. Beth wore the wedding dress when she was married in 1935, and after her death in 1980 the two dresses found their way to my closet. My husband had no interest in them -- just to tidy up loose ends, we were divorced in 1992 and he died in 1996 -- so there they have been through the last five moves, and it was time to find them a good home.

When my son Peter came to visit me in May, I asked him to take pictures of the clothes and post them on the Web (at www.plethora.net/~linsee/dress/ if you'd like a look). The wedding dress (best view is No. 53) has three pieces: a lace jacket and a blouse and skirt made of very fine cotton lawn, or something like it. The ornamentation is hand-sewn pleats and ruffles. The going-away dress is pale yellow and white figured silk (best view is No. 63) with a long skirt and an elaborately flounced and tucked bodice.

I sew, a little. Either one of these would take me months to finish.

Edna Loomis graduated from Gettysburg College in 1896. Samuel Hefelbower was a member of the class of 1891, and in 1904 he became, at 33, Gettysburg's fourth and youngest president. So I thought I ought to give the college first refusal, but archivist Karen Drickamer politely explained that the college really hasn't the resources for proper conservation of textiles.

There's always eBay, of course, but I was hoping for something more personal. It occurred to me that one Web log I often read called "Cut on the Bias" is organized around a sewing theme. I've never met the woman who writes it, Susanna Cornett, but it is the way of the personal online commentaries called blogs that I feel as if I know her, so I e-mailed her to ask whether she would like Edna Loomis' dresses.

With her permission, I quote, "Yes, yes, yes! I would love to have the dresses . . . They're so gorgeous. I don't know if you saw, but I posted a link on my blog to my new bedroom suite. It's a Victorian-style sleighbed and dresser with mirror. I love the Victorian style, and intend to decorate the whole room in that manner -- lace and doilies and a satin-and-velvet very rich comforter (that I've not made yet but will!). I even have a very very cool quilt top made out of (are you ready for this?) ribbons off of old funeral arrangements! That's extremely Victorian; they were very into funereal arts as well as ornate furnishings and lovely lovely clothes.

"I'm gushing, sorry!"

And she added, "Do you by any chance have a photograph \[of Edna]?"

Alas, I didn't. Edna gave birth to her daughter Beth on May 9, 1898, in Manheim, Pa., and on Aug. 10, 1899, she died of tuberculosis.

Edna's older sister, whom Beth called Mama, cared for the child. "Mama said of my mother that she never knew anyone who wanted an education so badly. She had to work her way through college," Beth wrote in her memory book. Edna had no money for her final year at Gettysburg, but with her family's approval, her husband-to-be lent her the money.

I sent Susanna's request along to Drickamer, the archivist, who replied -- nine minutes later -- "Edna Mae Loomis was a member of the Class of 1896. The yearbooks were not too heavy on photographs until about 1906, but there is one photo of the whole class -- with Edna Mae, the only woman, right in the front row."

And with her reply, she sent me a jpeg, a digital version of the photo.

I sent it along to my son Peter, who never had a picture of his great-grandmother before.

I marvel at this mixture of old and new. So does Susanna, who is a quilter, and wrote me, "It is amazing and wonderful how much of the spirit of the old time quilting bee can be maintained through text-only (well, and some exchange of photos) communications. Some online quilting groups even hold quilting 'bees' online, where they dedicate a day to quilting and report to each other at regular intervals about their progress, often complete with photos."

People who get to know each other online are often eager to meet in person, and are likely to say, when they do, "You're just the way I thought you'd be." If Susanna ever gets to Denver (or I to Alabama) I bet we'll say the same.