Who took the 1905 photos of red-light district in Fairbanks?

The note also said "Kane cabin. Kane, Shiksa, Hanna, EL." Shiksa, for those unfamiliar with Yiddish slang, is a non-Jewish woman.

The four women probably were prostitutes. Fourth Avenue was home to "the line," the red-light district where prostitutes lived and conducted business.

The photographer repeatedly photographed prostitutes, barmen, and others involved in Fairbanks sporting life in 1905-1906. His album contains numerous photographs of night people.

The photographs have frustrated me for years. I keep asking them a question they refuse to answer: Who was the photographer?

My frustration is compounded because I can see him in this photograph -- his reflection is in the mirror, upper left. He is staring down into his camera.

Many early prostitutes came to Alaska from Europe, through New York. They were imported -- like everything else in the Kane cabin. The art work, the mirrors, the wallpaper, the tea set, the table, the rug traveled hundreds if not thousands of miles before reaching Interior Alaska.

The attitude of the four women is that of ladies at their leisure, a vivid reminder that members of the underworld are often indistinguishable from the rest of us during their off hours. And nothing in the photo suggests the occasional danger of their profession -- the drunks and nasty boys, men who hate women.

Does the photographer's use of the word "shiksa" mean he was Jewish? Who knows. He doesn't use Yiddish slang elsewhere in his notes.

In searching for the photographer, I have been successful in one respect. I know who he's not.

He's not an early professional like E.L Robertson or Albert Johnson, both of whom were not in Fairbanks when the photographer was in the Golden Heart City. Nor is he Max Manger -- for the same reason. He's not Tom Marquam, a gifted amateur who knew the red-light district well through his criminal defense practice. He's not Richard Geohegan, the clerk of court, whose name has been repeatedly linked to the tenderloin photos. He's not George Akimoto, a Japanese businessman with reputed ties to the underworld. Marquam's handwriting does not match the photographer's. Nor does Geohegan's. Or Akimoto's.

Maybe my dad, Fabian, knew who took the photograph but I wasn't smart enough to ask him when I had the chance. He died in 1975. Some of his friends think he obtained the Fairbanks night-life photos as far back as World War II. I doubt it. I think I would have seen them before the '70s. He wasn't a prude who would hide them.

The photographer traveled from Valdez to Fairbanks by dog sled in March '05. He took photos along the trail and made notes in his album. But dozens of men made that trip during the month. He is but one of many.

It's striking the photographer began taking photos of night people as soon as he arrived in Fairbanks. Had he been there before? Did he know the night people from back in the States? Or did he have some other entree to the red light district that encouraged men and women to sit for him?

And what kind of camera did he use? By 1905 cameras were becoming light enough and easy enough to use that amateurs could take decent photos.

Historical research involves formulating questions and searching for answers. It may be the man in the mirror will remain just that -- a reflection from more than a hundred years ago. But I'm not ready to give up yet. Somewhere, he left footprints, and his footprints will lead me to his name.

Michael Carey is the former editorial page editor of the Anchorage Daily News. He can be reached at mcarey@adn.com.