Her Name was Florence

Dorothea Lange, photographer. Destitute pea pickers in California. Mother of seven children. Age thirty-two. Nipomo, California. 1936. U.S. Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information. Prints & Photographs Division.

In 1936, a photographer by the name of Dorothea Lange arrived in Nipomo, California. She worked for the Resettlement Administration, a government–formed agency aimed at bringing awareness and aid to struggling farmers during the Great Depression. Lange stopped in a migrant camp and, as if "drawn by a magnet," made her way over to a young mother and her children. With permission, Lange captured exposures of these "destitute pea pickers," each shot progressively getting closer to her subjects. Not long after parting ways with the mother and children, Lange got to work publishing her photos through newspapers. The Migrant Mother within Lange's photographs resonated so strongly with the American people that both Lange and the Migrant Mother became national icons. Lange went on to achieve stardom and continue her photography career, but none of her subsequent works reached the national status of the Migrant Mother.

This story isn't about Dorothea Lange. America associates Lange with her works during the Great Depression, especially the Migrant Mother collection. Everyone knew (and knows) the face of the Migrant Mother, but virtually nobody knew her name.

Florence

In 1936, a Cherokee migrant by the name of Florence Leona Owens was down on her luck and arrived in a migrant camp in Nipomo, California. Florence was a headstrong, independent woman from Oklahoma. Her husband, Cleo Owens, passed away a few years prior. Her family had offered to help and take in her six—which by 1936 she had seven—children after his passing. She only left her newborn child in her family's care and took the other five with her to California.

"I'd hit that... field before daylight and stay there that got so dark I couldn't see. And I didn't even weigh a hundred pounds. I used to fill up a twelve-pound cotton, twelve-foot cotton sack. I couldn't lift 'em, I'd have to drag 'em to the scales halfway across the field."

A cold-snap forced her family to seek work elsewhere, and unfortunately another cold-snap killed many crops in Nipomo. To make matters worse, her car broke down as she arrived at the camp. During this time in her life, Florence and her children had been travelling with a man named Jim Hill and his son Troy. Jim was the new husband and father to Florence and her children during their travels and time together. Years later she would part ways with Jim and marry a man named George Thompson.

Jim was working on repairing the family car when Troy put a screwdriver through the radiator—an unforeseen accident. The already struggling family would now have to experience more financial hardship as a replacement radiator would need to be found and purchased. Jim took his son with him to walk to the closest auto shop. Florence and her children were moved to a different camp just a mile or two from where she left their car. She set up her tent at the entrance of the new camp, hoping that Jim and Troy would see her more easily on their return. At this point all that she could do was wait.

Migrant agricultural worker's family. Seven hungry children. Mother aged thirty-two. Father is native Californian. Nipomo, California. 1936. U.S. Farm Security Administration/Office of War Information. Prints & Photographs Division.

A shiny car pulled up to the camp, quite the contrast to its surroundings. A young woman with a large and expensive camera stepped out of the car and began taking photographs of Florence and her family. The woman would take a few steps closer with each shot until she stood a mere few feet away from them. After seeming content with her shots, she exchanged a few words with Florence. Dorothea Lange, a photographer working for the Resettlement Administration. Florence never gave her name, but in the few words they exchanged she mentioned that she was thirty-two years old and was a mother of seven children. As Florence remembers it (through Roger Sprague's retelling), Lange made a promise that she wouldn't publish her photographs and was simply "documenting the plight of the migrant worker." Lange stepped back into the car and left without taking another photo.

Unbeknownst to Florence, Lange broke her promise and published her photograph in a newspaper.

Just a mere few days after Lange's visit, trucks filled with food and supplies arrived at migrant camps in Nipomo. New clothes were given to residents in the farmers camps, and some cars were repaired. Florence, Jim, and their children had left before the arrival of these supplies. Not only did they miss the opportunity for them and their children to be fed, Florence also never received any recognition nor financial compensation for her face making the front page. Dorothea Lange continued her path to stardom while Florence continued to struggle to make ends meet.

Florence through the years took many odd jobs to feed her children. "I worked in hospitals, I tend bar, I cooked, I worked in the field... I done a little bit of everything to make a living for my kids." Soon her children were old enough to take on their own jobs and therefore bring in more money for the family. Yet Florence never received a cent from Dorothea Lange. She continued as she did, unable to gain a comfortable life for herself and her children for many years.

The Mother of America

Despite what appears as tragic story of an Oklahoma-born mother instead has an inspiring effect on others that Florence never knew during her entire lifetime. Her face was to America as the Statue of Liberty is to the rest of the world—a cherished icon. The Statue of Liberty was the face of America, while Florence became the mother of America. Despite the loss of her first husband and losing a stable life in Oklahoma, she worked countless days and nights for her children. For many, especially Florence herself, she was a beacon of hope. "If I'd ever lost hope, I never made it."

Florence as the Migrant Mother transcended the barriers of race, ethnicity, religion, and gender. Her significance held and still holds different meanings to people from different backgrounds, but all regard her as a true American. Some thirty or so years after Florence's encounter with Lange, one of her grandchildren found her picture in a fellow G.I.'s tent. Her skin was printed in such a way to make her appear to be a black woman. The G.I. that owned the picture, who was a black man, always believed that she was black and never knew otherwise. "Florence and her story had not yet been found," said Bob Dotson in American Story. "But that frozen moment of her life—that picture—writes its own story in each of us."

While most Americans to this day don't recognize the name Florence nor her story, her influence as the Migrant Mother continues to impact the lives of countless Americans. Florence passed away in 1983 surrounded by her children and grandchildren. On her gravestone, the following words were engraved: "Migrant Mother: a legend of the strength of American motherhood."

Memorial page for Florence Leona Christie Thompson (1 Sep 1903–16 Sep 1983). Find a Grave. Memorial ID 21325119. accessed 25 August 2022.

Sources:

Dorothea Lange's "Migrant Mother" Photographs in the Farm Security Administration Collection. 2019. Library of Congress. Guides.

Roger Sprague. "The Migrant Mother: The story as told by her Grandson." 2004. Web Archive. https://web.archive.org/web/20041011003814/http://migrantgrandson.com/the.htm

Bob Dotson. "Migrant Mother Update - American Story with Bob Dotson." 1983. YouTube. accessed 25 August 2022.

(Picture sources listed under each picture)