It is fair to say that John T. Morris was an early adopter of technology in the 80s. The 1880s, that is. His willingness to embrace new ideas and adapt to change, whether in business, architecture, travel, or horticulture, is well documented. For example, consider Morris’ investment in a start-up steelworks using the “Mitis process” to combine aluminum with wrought iron, thus making it more flexible and lighter weight. Investing in this Swedish innovation was a brave move that could have a negative impact on his foundry business, but a risk he was quite willing to take.
Photograph negatives taken in 1889 by industrialist John T. Morris with a point and shoot Kodak camera. | Photo courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
At the time, Morris was president of I.P. Morris & Co., the long-standing Port Richmond ironworks known for forging massive machines like boilers, turbines, and steam engines. Morris Iron Works was the kind of industry that had to be at the leading edge of technology. Their machines powered ships, refineries, mines, and factories across the nation.
All sorts of modern machines were designed and tested at the ironworks, but, in one instance, the machine was not made by Morris. It was his new camera, the first “point and shoot” Kodak. Unlike his cumbersome field camera, it was small, lightweight, and easy to use. So, it was no problem for him to take the Kodak to work, step out the front door of his office, and point the camera toward the street.
A horse-drawn milk wagon passes 2254 Richmond Street. Judging by the open window, it’s too warm on the third floor. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
Simply press the button and voila!—the 2200 block of Richmond Street is captured on film, probably for the very first time. Morris may have thought he was just practicing with this novel camera. It didn’t matter what he pointed to. Little did he know his photos would be published online for the public to view many decades later.
A dray horse minces its way around coiled ropes at the edge of the I.P. Morris pier. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
The camera Morris used to take the Port Richmond pictures was a simple wooden box covered in leather and weighed less than two pounds. At a cost of $25, the Kodak was a good investment. It was also convenient. All Morris had to do was take the exposed film to a photography company in Center City for developing, a labor-saving innovation for the amateur photographer in the 1880s.
A lanky boy strides up the sidewalk in front of 2254 Richmond Street leaving his little sister behind. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
A few days later, the company would send Morris a small paper envelop containing 19 Kodak negatives, each bearing the number of the job order and written by an employee during processing. 14 negatives from job #67 have survived. What happened to the other five is anyone’s guess.
A steam-powered tug moves ahead down-stream across from Petty Island. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
In 1887, Morris and his sister Lydia established a country estate named Compton in Chestnut Hill. In 1932, the estate was bequeathed to the University of Pennsylvania and renamed Morris Arboretum.
Streetcar No. 13 makes haste on Richmond Street, passing the Western Union Telegraph office, conveniently located near the utility pole. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
Sometime before 1968, the superintendent of the Morris Arboretum rescued Morris’ Kodak negatives from the Compton mansion prior to its demolition.
A huge boiler on a rail flatcar is ready to be hoisted onto a waiting ship at Morris Pier. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
Morris likely took the Port Richmond photos in early October 1889. At the end of the month, Morris, Lydia, and their travel companion, Louise Kellner, went on a nine-month trip around the world. Morris took the Kodak with him. No photos of that trip survived.
A three-masted ship, its sails furled, rides low in the water. | Photo: John T. Morris, courtesy of Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives
The three row houses on Richmond Street across from I.P. Morris & Co. were demolished at the turn of the century when the street was widened to accommodate the expansion of Cramp’s shipyard.
Author’s Note: This essay was made possible by records at the Morris Arboretum and Garden Archives and with the assistance of Mark Osterman, an expert in the technical evolution of photographic processes.
Nice piece.
Really good story! I wonder if the Morris company is the foundry that casted the body for the early submarine the Alligator which was built in Philadelphia and whose body was cast at a local boiler manufacturer? The early submarine is purportedly lost somewhere in Rancocas creek!