A splendid allegorical World War I memorial. Our all-American hero casts off the robes of comfort and offers his sword to whoever needs defending (in Pittsburgh, old Pa Pitt supposes, it is more proper to say “whoever needs defended”). Allen George Newman had a considerable reputation in his day, and this memorial must have cost the neighborhood a good bit of money. Note that the dates of the war are given as 1917-1919; although we commonly take the Armistice in 1918 as the end of the war, it was not technically over until the Treaty of Versailles was signed in 1919.
The pictures in this article have been donated to Wikimedia Commons under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication, so no permission is needed to use them for any purpose whatsoever.
General James Scott Negley was an important figure in the Union Army, but perhaps his greatest claim to undying memory is that his sister married Thomas Mellon, guaranteeing that the Negleys would be intertwined with the richest family on earth. This picture has been donated to Wikimedia Commons under a Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication, so no permission is needed to use it for any purpose whatsoever.
And now, an announcement. It cannot have escaped regular readers that old Pa Pitt loves to wander through cemeteries with a camera. The reason is simple: our best cemeteries are great outdoor art museums filled with imperishable masterpieces of architecture and sculpture, and great thought was put into laying them out in a picturesque manner.
Lest his readers begin to suspect, however, that he has a morbid obsession with death, Father Pitt has decided to create a separate site devoted to nothing but Pittsburgh cemeteries. There you will find many of the cemetery pictures that have been published here, and new pictures as well that have never been seen anywhere else. Occasional cemetery pictures will still appear here, but Father Pitt’s main site will perhaps maintain a healthier balance between life and death now that he is free to take as many cemetery pictures as he wants without worrying that he seems too morose.
(If you should visit the site and see a notice that it is “under review,” come back in a day or so; the review seldom takes longer than that.)
Mr. Daniel O’Neill was editor of the Dispatch, which he built into Pittsburgh’s most respectable newspaper, a position it maintained until it fell victim to the great newspaper massacre of 1923, when spiraling paper costs forced countless newspapers across the country out of business. It seems that a newspaperman’s work is quite literally never done: this statue of Mr. O’Neill hard at work still looks as fresh as it did when it was put up in 1877. Note the Egyptian-style lotus-blossom pedestal that supports his desk.