Pittsburgh was home to 676,806 people in 1950, which leads us to believe the city was a crowded place. And noisy, with all those steel mills and trolleys and railroads rattling residents day and night.
But as these pictures show, people here were able to find moments of quiet and solitude amidst the din.
We found the images in a folder labeled “Pittsburgh Album.”
The “Album,” we discovered, was a weekly feature published in The Pittsburgh Press Roto magazine several decades ago. The feature was simple — usually a picture and a brief caption.
Sometimes the photographs highlighted the city’s quirky side. In one, a gardener holds a tomato that looks like it has a full set of oversized teeth — an oddity of nature. Another depicts a cabinet maker standing proudly next to his creation: a stainless steel rocket, propped up in his backyard.
We chose to post these pictures because they challenge our perceptions of what life in Pittsburgh was like in the 50s and 60s, when our city was home to twice as many people as now and the Renaissance was in full swing.
Most of the images are uncredited. But we’re thankful for the work of the largely unknown photographers who allow us to travel briefly back in time to experience the city in unexpected ways.
Steve, I grew up in Pittsburgh from 1941 to 1962 when I enlisted in the Air Force. These pictures hit the right spots in my memories and, I suspect, the memories of many like me who are now part of the Pittsburgh Diaspora!
I grew up in McKeesport but was born at Shady Side Hospital. Special trips to Pittsburgh during the holiday seasons were joyously anticipated. Especially Hornes’ Window at Christmas. I later went to an art school, Ivy School of Professional Art, that has been gone for years. But, my lunch hours were filled with exploring what seemed to me, every knock and cranny in the city. I watch the park being built at the juncture of the three rivers and sketched from the “Bridge to Nowhere” many times. I’m proud to be from Pittsburgh and although I have been living in Cleveland, Ohio, which I love, I still say “gum band” instead of “rubber band” and can drive better than any Ohioan who never had to navigate 90 degree hills or trolley tracks. I worked at the Plain Dealer for eleven years and am now morning it’s demise. Did you know Jim Fetters? I went to school with him and bought him his first legal drink when he turned 21.