Gilbert Owlett
Recently, I’ve been researching a cabinet card from the studio of McFarlin in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania. The portrait features a solemn, bright eyed young boy in an ornate Victorian photographer’s chair, feet dangling in polished button boots, with a tiny dog sitting on the floor below.
Flip the heavy cardstock over, and the mystery changes into history: Gilbert Mason Owlett.
With a definitive name and location, a bit of genealogical sleuthing allows us to piece together a lifetime.
Gilbert Mason Owlett was born in Wellsboro, Tioga County, Pennsylvania, on June 13, 1892. Judging by his appearance in the portrait, he looks to be about three or four years old, which dates this photograph to around 1895 or 1896.
In the late 19th century, it was entirely customary for young boys to wear structured dresses until they were "breeched" (outfitted in trousers) later in childhood. Gilbert is a perfect example of Gilded Age childhood fashion.
While the portrait captures a child, Gilbert grew up to become a prominent civic figure in 20th century North Central Pennsylvania.
After completing his education, Gilbert studied law and cofounded a law firm in Wellsboro, a practice that established a multi generational legal legacy in Tioga County and still operates under the name Owlett & Lewis today.
Entering public service as a Republican, Gilbert was elected to the Pennsylvania State Senate, representing the 25th District from 1933 to 1940. His influence eventually reached the national stage, where he became a key player and committee member for the Republican National Committee (RNC) during the turbulent political landscapes of the 1930s, 40s, and 50s.
Beyond the courtroom and the senate floor, Gilbert served as an executive for both the Tioga County Bell Telephone Company and the Tioga Water Works Company.
Gilbert spent his life building up the community he was born in. He married Sue Berkey in 1918 and raised two children including a son, Edward, who followed him into the family law firm. He passed away on January 24, 1957. Though he died in Philadelphia, he was brought back to the Wellsboro Cemetery, just a short distance from where he sat for his portrait as a young boy.
Holding a cabinet card like this is a reminder of why we preserve historical ephemera. Every fragile piece of paper on our shelves once belonged to a life full of ambition, family, and history.