Monday, April 13, 2026

George Seay (1888-1961), Iceman - One of the last Richmond Ice Wagon Delivery Men.

The 700 block of E. Baker Street in Richmond's Jackson Ward. The image shows George Seay, Richmond ice wagon delivery man and Nellie, the horse, August 1956. Image by Edith K. Shelton from her collection of photographs and slides housed at the collection of the Valentine Museum. 

If you are a fan (and member) of the Facebook group “Old Images of Richmond," you might be familiar with the Richmond images taken by Edith K. Shelton (1898-1989). Christopher B. Coleman is the moderator of the Facebook group and often posts images taken by Shelton. These street scene images by Shelton are found on the Valentine Museum’s Collection Database search page where one can search the many collections of the Valentine. Shelton’s collection of images (dating from the 1940s through the 1970s including 1,600 black and white photos and 3,000 Kodachrome slides) were donated to the Museum in 1991 and are available online thanks to the Valentine. Coleman sometimes pairs images from the Shelton collection with images of what that scene looks like today. Older buildings from the original Shelton images are routinely replaced by new buildings or parking lots. Shelton's images give us a glimpse into Richmond's past. The collection documents the city's architecture and streetscape. It is a treasure trove for researching the city's history. 

Some of the most popular Shelton images are the ones that include merchant wagons pulled by horses or mules. Of those, the 1950s color images of “Ice Man” George Seay and his horse Nellie are my favorites. The images of his colorful wagon on the city streets can make you feel like you have been transported back in time. Seay delivered ice to the homes and merchants that still needed large blocks of ice. This line of work had all but disappeared by the 1930s and 1940s when most people in Richmond had replaced their ice box with electric refrigerators. I wondered who this man was - so I did a little digging into various records (city directories, census records, etc.) and old newspapers available online.   

 

The 700 block of N. 9th Street shows an ice wagon driven by George Seay and pulled by Nellie, March 1956. Image by Edith K. Shelton, Valentine Museum. Shelton documented her work with note cards for each image and recorded the date, location, and other data which are included in the Valentine's searchable database

George Seay (1888-1961)

George Seay probably first came to the attention of most Richmonders in a column by Charles McDowell, Jr. (1926-2010) in the July 28, 1957 issue of the Richmond Times Dispatch. McDowell was a longtime reporter and popular columnist for the newspaper. He had a national audience as well as a contributor to several national television shows on PBS.


In his column, McDowell reminds his readers about a previous column ["Richmond, Never a One-Horse Town," Richmond Times-Dispatch, July 14, 1957] where he wrote about the two most commonly produced horse-drawn ice wagons that were once often seen on Richmond streets. One source of these wagons was the ornately colorful Knickerbocker wagons made in Philadelphia by the Knickerbocker Ice Company. Another source of ice wagons in Richmond were made by local carriage maker Julius A. Grasberger (1860-1929) who operated his company from the late 1880s until the mid-1920s. His wagons were also colorful and attractive. McDowell writes in the July 28th column:

"Now, two weeks later, we know that a horse-drawn ice wagon is still making its rounds every day in old Jackson Ward, It definitely isn't a Knickerbocker and it almost definitely isn't a Grasberger, but it is a horse-drawn ice wagon 30 or 35 years old. The faded lettering and decorations on its sides show the fancy influence of earlier wagons, however.

The wagon is operated by an independent seller of ice named George Seay and is pulled by a pleasant gray horse named Nelly [Shelton spelled the horse's name Nellie]. Mr. Seay buys his ice every day, and bought the wagon itself several years ago, from the Richmond Ice Company (which relies on trucks for its own deliveries).

Mr. Seay said he preferred his horse and wagon to a truck for delivering ice. Asked why, he said, "Because I can use Nelly to plow, too." He and Nelly do plowing for a number of fairly regular customers on the outskirts of the city.

Although he knows the wagon was old when he bought it, Mr. Seay hasn't looked into its pedigree or worried much about it. But J. A. Woodson, who has worked for the Richmond Ice Company for 25 years, has some ideas about the wagon. He is sure it isn't a Knickerbocker and he is pretty sure it isn't a Grasberger. He thinks it was built by the Richmond Ice Company itself, probably about 30 or 35 years ago." -Charles McDowell, Richmond Times Dispatch, July 28, 1957.

This was the original image that appeared with the Charles McDowell column from 1957. The image was reproduced in the Richmond Times Dispatch on Sept. 25, 2018. 



Here is another view of George Seay, his ice wagon and Nellie. This is from the Library of Virginia's Adolph B. Rice Studio Collection - many of the images in the collection are available online Here. The image in the collection is labeled as "Horse and Richmond Ice wagon" with the date "January 9, 1958."


Above is a newspaper advertisement for the City Ice Delivery Corporation from the April 26, 1926 issue of the Richmond Times Dispatch. Their motto which appears on top of the wagon, "Try Our Service, It Will Please You," is seen on one side of Seay's wagons in many of Shelton's images and on other wagon vendors in the collection. According to newspaper accounts, the company was established in 1920 and was a consolidation of a few different ice companies in Richmond. In just a few years it became part of the Richmond Ice Company, a firm that lasted a few decades. It was this company that Seay bought his ice from. 


An ad for the City Ice Delivery Corp. from the Feb. 15, 1920 issue of the Richmond Times-Dispatch. The ad. shows 27 men, all whom appear to be white, who delivered ice for the company. Each man had  different route in the city. The text of the ad includes: "Our wagons are now covering every sector of the city regularly, and we have a special delivery service to take care of hurry-up phone orders." The wagons would be replaced with trucks over the course of the next two decades. The need for delivery men reduced as more and more people acquired electric refrigerators. 


George L. McGee, a Richmond iceman, was profiled in an article by Bill Marmon entitled "Richmond Keeps Share of Cooling Nostalgia - Hark, the Iceman Cometh, but Image Altered" that was published in the July 26, 1961 issue of the Richmond News Leader. The article begins with:

The old-time ice industry is melting away.

The day of the iceman with couple of blocks of house-to-house residential customers is past. Home refrigeration and automatic vending machines are gradually making his job obsolete.
The article goes on to say that the Richmond Ice Co. ended regular iceman delivery routes in 1956 but still sold ice to about 30 independent peddlers (like George Seay) who have their own routes. McGee began his work as an ice man in 1920 with his own horse and wagon route. He replaced his wagon for a truck in 1950.
"The business is not what it used to be," said McGee. Some icemen resent the presence of the vendors but McGee said, "Icemen can't possibly cover the whole city. The vendors are good for the ice business."

Shelton's images of iceman and other wagon vendors is another way her collection documents the city's past. The color images are especially appealing and might offer a more accurate portrayal of the city and of the men and women seen in those images. 

There are at least six images in the Valentine Museum online database that are labeled showing George Seay, his ice wagon, and his horse Nellie. But there are more images by Shelton of ice men with horse drawn carriages that are not labeled as having Seay in them. Some appear to be Seay, while others are labeled as other sellers of ice or different wares. 



This image from the Shelton collection is dated circa 1945 of a horse drawn wagon at the corner of Harrison and Franklin. Shelton wrote on the back of the image "E15-3 / S.E. Harrison + Franklin / Berkley Apts." There is no mention of Seay in her notes on this image but the wagon seems to match the one used by him in other images. It could be Seay but with a different horse. 



This image by Shelton is labeled 1013 St. James Street, in Jackson Ward, and dated April 1956. Shelton does not indicate the driver or horse but it certainly appears to be Seay and his horse Nellie. It is another example of several images in the collection that might include Seay but lack that notation. 

Records on Ancestry.com (birth, death, and marriage records, census data, military records, city directories, etc.) and digitized historical newspapers helped me find a little more about Seay. 

George Seay was born Dec. 22, 1888 in Amelia County, Virginia. The 1900 census lists seventeen-year-old George living with his parents, Warner Seay (1859-1918) and Ella Taylor Seay (1867-?), and with his five brothers and one sister. They were living in "Leigh, Amelia, Virginia" - which is in the western part of Amelia County, near Route 616 (S. Genito Road). His father's occupation is listed as "Farm Laborer." Maybe the Seay family lived on a farm.

The 1910 census lists George, age 24 living at his father's house in "Giles" on Genito Road in Amelia County. That is most likely Giles Mill, a rural neighborhood 10 miles north of Amelia Court House, the county seat of Amelia County. George is listed as a laborer. He is living there with his wife, Amy Wiley (1889-?), whom he married in Richmond in March of 1910. The state marriage register document lists his occupation as "factory hand."

Seven years later, George was inducted into the army on Oct. 29, 1917. He was initially assigned to the 155th Depot Brigade at Camp Lee, near Petersburg, where the brigade underwent basic training and processing. The brigade was transferred to Company C, 367th Infantry Regiment, part of the 92nd Division, a segregated African American unit. The 367th Infantry served in France during World War I and were known as the "Buffaloes." George served overseas from Oct. 1918 to March 1, 1919. 

One interesting record available on Ancestry.com is entitled "U.S. Army Transport Service Arriving Deporting Passenger Lists, 1919-1939" named the ship that brought Seay and other troops in his regiment back from France. The record states that George returned to the United States (they landed in Brooklyn) on March 1, 1919 aboard the ship the SS Sobral He was discharged March 25, 1919. 

A state divorce record shows he divorced his wife for "desertion" in July of 1927 after 17 years of marriage. They were living in Richmond by this time. I could not determine when he first moved to Richmond. He hardly makes any appearances in city directories. It appears he never had any children. The 1940 census states that he had lived in New York City in 1935. That record also said he was married, but I found no evidence that he married again. His occupation in the 1940 census is listed as a laborer in "building construction." His draft registration card from 1942 lists him living in Richmond and as unemployed. 

In the 1950 census, he is listed as a widower and his occupation as "Ice Man" for a "Retail Ice Co." That is the earliest indication he was a ice delivery man. 

Image from the 1950 census listing George Seay's Occupation and Industry.

George died at the age of 72 on Dec. 8, 1961. His death certificate listed his last occupation as "Huckster." He died from cancer at the "Veterans Hospital," most likely the McGuire V.A. Hospital in Richmond. His obituary from the Dec. 12, 1961 issue of the Richmond Times-Dispatch reads:

SEAY - Departed this life Dec. 8, 1961, George Seay, of 702 North at Sixth St. He is survived by two brothers, Robert Seay and Warner Seay; two sisters, Mrs. Nora Bobitt and Mrs. Emma Crump; devoted friend, Miss Merdith Thomas; eight nieces, five nephews, one sister-in-law, other relatives and friends. Remains rest at the A. D. Price, Jr.. Funeral Home. Funeral services will be held Wednesday, 2:30 P. M., from Flower Hill Baptist Church, Amelia, Va. Interment church cemetery. Family and friends kindly assemble at the funeral home Wednesday, 12:45 P. M. 

George Seay was buried not far from where he was born. The Flower Hill Baptist Church building in Amelia Court House still stands but I am not certain if the congregation is active.

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There are other men identified in the Shelton image collection using horses and wagons delivering ice, coal, fish, etc. They too deserve some attention. I may profile some of those other men in a future post. 

Thanks to the staff at the Valentine Museum for answering my questions about the Shelton Collection. Their Collection Database search page is worth exploring. 

-- Ray B.

Saturday, January 31, 2026

The Murder, the Millions, the Meat Juice, and Mrs. Maybrick: An International Sensation Arrives in Richmond

Everyone in Richmond knew exactly who Florence Maybrick was and why her story was such a sensation on both sides of the Atlantic. Richmonders, like the rest of the country, were avidly following her progress, reading on the front page of the Richmond Times-Dispatch on August 24, 1904, that Mrs. Maybrick had landed in New York and was once more in her native country after barely avoiding the hangman and having spent fifteen years in an English prison on a charge of murder.


Richmond’s most famous patent medicine, Valentine’s Meat Juice, played a prominent role in the investigation and trial of Florence Maybrick for murdering her husband.


Twenty-four years earlier, Francis Chandler met James Maybrick on the transatlantic liner Baltic, in 1880. She was an eighteen-year-old beauty from Mobile, Alabama, and he was a 42-year-old successful English cotton merchant. By the time the Baltic got to Liverpool, the pair were engaged to be married, and the ceremony took place in London the following spring. The first few years of marriage were happy and produced two children. James was often away from his family, managing his cotton business from both England and an office in Norfolk, Virginia, which was then a center of the cotton trade.

James had his foibles, though, and one was a high degree of hypochondria and another was a mania to self-medicate, leading to addiction to some exotic drugs and poisons. Among the many preparations he used was arsenic, which had many more uses in nineteenth-century homes than today. The substance was used in many patent medicines, such as “Dr. Simms Arsenic Complexion Wafers,” which were supposed to produce a “beautiful transparency, remove wrinkles, brighten the eyes, and raise the spirits.”

Arsenic was also used in flypaper, which were adhesive strips that held flies once they landed and then killed them with poison in the glue. A toxic liquid could be produced by soaking flypapers in water, and as one of Mrs. Maybrick’s biographers noted the deadly broth was bitter to taste, “…to administer the solution it had to be disguised in something that covered the color and the taste – strong tea, coffee, brandy, sherry, or meat juice were ideal for this purpose.”


An advertisement for Valentine’s Meat Juice from the collection of the Valentine Museum.


References to “meat juice” in relation to the Maybricks could only mean one thing for Richmonders, and that was the internationally known tonic, Valentine’s Meat Juice. Invented in Richmond in the early 1870s by Mann Valentine as a stimulant for his ailing wife, the meat juice was sold in distinctive two-ounce little brown bottles, each of which was said to contain the essence of four pounds of meat. It became one of Richmond’s leading exports and was distributed to sick people across the world who wanted to experience the meaty tonic’s “power to sustain and strengthen.”


Even Richmond’s C.F. Sauer Company, which was best known for its spice business, attempted to break into the popular patent medicine market. This advertisement for “Sauer’s Nerve and Bone Oil” is from 1909.


James Maybrick’s health began to decline and he ordered more unidentifiable medications (some of which may have contained strychnine) from a doctor in London. His Liverpool physician tried a variety of treatments and medicines on his patient. In one three-day period, Maybrick was prescribed “Fowler’s solution of arsenic,” which was one percent white arsenic and in addition, a morphine suppository. Throughout this roller coaster of medicine, and drugs and poisons, a staple of James Maybrick’s self-prescribed regimen was always Richmond’s Valentine’s Meat Juice.

A biographer of Florence Maybrick described her husband’s last day on May 10, 1889: “James was weakening. More medicine was prescribed: sulphonyl, nitroglycerine, cocaine, and phosphoric acid.” He died that night, beginning a chain of bewildering accounts and accusations. Florence seemed to incriminate herself with purchases of flypaper, handling a bottle of Meat Juice that was later found to contain arsenic, and acting suspiciously with little effort to conceal evidence. Florence embarked on an affair just months before her husband’s death, and when that was revealed in court it only added to the sensationalism of the case.

Tried for the murder of her husband, Florence Maybrick was convicted and sentenced to hang. Her sentence was commuted to life imprisonment, and she served fifteen years (some in solitary confinement) before being pardoned in 1904.  She was estranged from her daughter and her son and never saw them again after her imprisonment.  Ironically, her son died in 1911 after accidently ingesting cyanide. 

The story of her trial, conviction, imprisonment and eventual release would be enough drama for one lifetime, but there was another, perhaps even more incredible facet of her life. Florence and her mother Caroline von Roque (the widow of a minor French nobleman) had claim to exactly 2,532,304 acres of land in the mountains of Virginia, West Virginia, and Kentucky. The claim dated back to the Revolutionary War and was a bequest by the United States government to von Roque’s ancestor who had assisted the American cause. No funds were ever transferred to Baroness Roque or Florence Maybrick, and their suit was for these funds rather than the vast amount of land itself. “The history of the case is weird and interesting,” said the Richmond Times-Dispatch in 1908, “revealing scraps of French life, German titles, English prisons, and fabulous wealth in coal veins supposed to lie hidden beneath wild and undeveloped regions of Virginia mountain lands.”


Richmond Times-Dispatch, May 10, 1905.


The title to the land was clouded, to say the least, and Florence and her mother were going to court to receive funds for their interest in the complicated title and claim von Roque’s inheritance. “Mrs. Maybrick will come to Richmond to testify,” reported the Richmond Times-Dispatch on February 14, 1905. This whole scandalous circus of Florence Maybrick, her mother, her lawyer, a legal team opposing her, and a herd of reporters were all descending on Richmond for an expected resolution to the case. “It is understood, however, that the suit, which has lagged for years, will now be pushed to a finish.”


The Hotel Richmond (today the Commonwealth of Virginia’s Barbara Jones Building), with its leafy roof garden, was convenient lodgings for Mrs. Maybrick and her mother while in Richmond. The hotel was only a block away from City Hall where the Chancery Court was located.


The trial began in the Chancery Court on May 11, 1905, and Florence Maybrick and her mother faced a crowd of curious Richmonders who were eager to see this internationally famous personality. Maybrick, dressed in a “gray street gown, with a touch of subdued color in her hat and costume,” was described by a reporter for the Richmond Times-Dispatch as “wonderfully well preserved, despite her hardships.” Her mother, Baroness von Roque, wore black and appeared to be “seventy years of age but still possessed of much vitality and unclouded intellectual powers.”


A crowd of curious Richmonders followed the famous Florence Maybrick and her mother across the light court of what is now called Old City Hall and into the Chancery Court.


The case brought by Mrs. Maybrick and her mother devolved into a long series of depositions taken in New York, Washington, and Richmond, coming down to some fine legal points and many hearings. Hovering in the background was the indisputable fact that the land in question had been broken up into many parcels, either owned now by big forestry companies, coal mines, or thousands of squatters who occupied the vast areas involved in the case. In December 1906, Maybrick and her mother returned to Richmond to once again press their case before the court.


A photo of Florence Maybrick shares the cover of a 2015 edition of her autobiography with an image of a bottle of Valentine’s Meat Juice.


When not in Richmond defending her legal rights, Florence Maybrick spoke on the popular Chautauqua lecture circuit on the subject of prison reform. In 1905 she wrote Mrs. Maybrick’s Own Story: My Fifteen Lost Years about her trial and conviction. In her book, Maybrick maintained that if she had the funds from her American inheritance, she could have paid for bringing a Norfolk pharmacist to testify at her murder trial and that testimony would have proven her innocence. 1906 saw Florence Maybrick embark on a lecture tour, speaking on the need for prison reform. In December 1908, a small article appeared in the New York Times: “Mrs. Maybrick Wins.”

The Chancery Court in Richmond ordered a complete accounting of deeds and titles to the thousands of acres involved in the Maybrick case and a review of all transactions between Maybrick, her mother, and D.W. Armstrong, their former lawyer responsible for the distribution of the funds.  It is unclear how much money, if any, Florence Maybrick and her mother won as a result of their lengthy legal pursuits.

Maybrick’s “vast fortune” seemed to dissipate somehow over the course of years into legal fog and static, leaving her destitute. Her mother died in 1910. The advent of radio killed the lecture circuit and Florence withdrew from the public, living quietly for decades in a cottage full of cats on the grounds of South Kent Boy’s School in Connecticut.  She died there in October 1941 and was buried on the grounds of the school chapel.


Florence Maybrick’s grave marker in South Kent, Connecticut only identifies her by her initials. Photo by Ron Suresha on FindaGrave.com.


It would be half a century before Richmonders again recalled Florence Maybrick and her tumultuous life. In 1992 a handwritten diary supposedly kept by Jack the Ripper identified James Maybrick as London’s most famous murderer, bringing Maybrick’s death and his wife’s conviction back into the public eye. Controversy ensued, and several books were published authenticating the diary, each one declaring the case definitely solved and Maybrick positively identified as the famous killer. Expert analysis of the manuscript, however, finally confirmed it was a hoax and Warner Brothers Books, Inc. cancelled its publication in 1993, but not before the Richmond Times-Dispatch speculated that James Maybrick may have actually started his criminal activity during the period he lived in Norfolk.

The most recent mention of Florence Maybrick in the news was in a 1994 Times-Dispatch article about a Williamsburg glassblower who was making reproduction Valentine’s Meat Juice bottles. The article listed various “Claims to Fame” associated with the original product: its use as the secret ingredient in the House Dressing at the Commonwealth Club, the mention of Valentine’s patent medicine in a 1937 Agatha Christie novel, and “In the late 19th Century Maybrick case in England, a woman poisoned her husband by tampering with his Valentine’s Meat Juice.” This last judgmental description of Florence Maybrick ended a story vividly followed by Richmonders for more than a hundred years, but never more so than when Mrs. Maybrick herself came to town. 


- Selden

Wednesday, January 28, 2026

Laurel Street Methodist Church, A Brief History

 

Rare postcard view of "Laurel Street Methodist Church, Richmond, VA. J. W. Rowland, Pastor." The building behind the church is Pine Street Baptist Church, still extant. 


Richmond’s Laurel Street Methodist Church, 401 South Laurel Street (corner of Albemarle), had a long and distinguished history. Begun in 1849, it was the fifth Methodist Church to be founded in Richmond and served the Oregon Hill area on the east side of today’s Belvidere Street. The original name was the Oregon Methodist Episcopal Church, South. “Hill” was never a part of its name, and the M.E. Church, South evoked the split between northern and southern Methodists that had taken place in 1843.

Oregon Methodist Episcopal Church was joined on the block in 1855 by the newly-constituted Belvidere Hill Baptist Church - Belvidere being an older name for the area. The churches were on a street of only two blocks, but their presence gave rise to the name of Church Street. As the neighborhood grew, new and somewhat larger residences began to be constructed west of Belvidere Street. In the 1880s both churches followed the westward movement.


Laurel Street cornerstone program, June 22, 1880.

Oregon Church laid the cornerstone for its new home on Laurel Street in 1880 and occupied the basement in 1881. Albert L. West (1825-1892), dubbed the dean of Richmond architects, designed the new structure. Being a prominent Methodist layman, he was a natural choice for the job. He designed the almost-contemporaneous Park Place Methodist Episcopal Church at Franklin and Pine streets, the earlier Broad Street Methodist Church (Broad and Tenth street) and Trinity Methodist Church (Broad and Twentieth streets), as well as an extensive remodeling of Centenary Methodist Church, of which he was a member.


Original Laurel Street Methodist Church building.

It was 1887 before the new building was completed and consecrated in January of that year. It was an exciting period for the church, for in addition to finishing the new church, the Sunday school had become the largest Methodist Sunday school in the State, with a membership of nearly 750. A new mission Sunday school was begun the following year, a wing at the east end of the new church was completed in 1891, and in 1896 yet another mission Sunday school was begun.


Handbill advertising events celebrating the first year anniversary of the opening of the church, June 1882.

Image of the church, 1949.

A completely new façade was added to the west front of Laurel Street Church in 1909-1910, and the following year, one of the most dynamic individuals ever to lead the church was appointed, Dr. Joseph M. Rowland (1880-1938).  Rowland’s tenure was only three years, yet it was a time of much enthusiasm. The postcard illustration pictures Dr. Rowland and the newly-remodeled church building.


Dr. Joseph M. Rowland (1880-1938) was appointed the head of Laurel Street Methodist Church in November, 1911 and remained for three years, until November, 1914.


Dr. Rowland made two trips to Europe and the Mediterranean area, one during his Laurel Street tenure. It was an eventful journey. The ship on which he travelled had a collision at sea with another ship, neither of which sank.  Aboard a train, he passed through Sarajevo, Bosnia, within hours of the assassination of Archduke Francis Ferdinand, and World War I began. On his group’s return trip home, word was received via the “wireless” that a German submarine was awaiting them at the Azores. Their ship had to change course but could not notify anyone of the change. Word got out in Richmond that they had been taken prisoners of war.

Dr. Rowland survived the war.  Accounts of both of his trips were published in book form, as were three popular novels.  He moved on to other fields of service, including editor of the Richmond Christian Advocate (the Virginia Methodist news magazine) from 1921 to 1938, and two terms as president of the Southern Methodist Press Association. He met an untimely end in an auto accident in Richmond in 1938. The Sept. 1, 1938 issue of the Richmond Christian Advocate was devoted to his life and work. 


Laurel Street Church survived another 30 years, only to be destroyed by arsonists in January of 1968. The images above show the ruins of the church. 


Rather than rebuild the damaged structure, its people voted to merge with Grace Methodist Church in the far west end, to form an entirely new organization, St. Andrew’s United Methodist Church.  (All former Methodist churches became United Methodist churches at just about the time of the merger when the Methodist Church combined with the Evangelical United Brethren Church.)


- Donald Traser, Richmond author and historian. 


Thursday, October 23, 2025

From Richmond to France lecture, Sunday, Nov. 2, - Mt Hermon Baptist Church, 18100 Genito Road.

World War I era images by Harris H. Stilson. 

You are invited to an event honoring veterans, focusing on Richmond and World War I. Presented by local historian Kitty Snow, the program will use the photographs and stories of her great-grandfather, Harris H. Stilson (1868-1934). Stilson was a Richmond streetcar motorman and amateur photographer who amassed a large collection of rare images of Richmond. The presentation takes place the week before Veterans’ Day and is based on Kitty’s book “From Richmond to France,” which includes the story of her great-uncle, a native of Richmond, who served in France during the war and died in battle. The program is free and open to the public. It will take place Sunday, Nov. 2, at 2 PM at Mt Hermon Baptist Church, 18100 Genito Road. For more information or questions, call or text Kitty at (804) 615-1125.