When my great grandfather, Alfred M. Glossbrenner, died on November 13, 1938, at the age of 69, The Indianapolis Star ran his obituary the very next day. The obit was on the front page, above the fold, right next to a story about the latest Nazi atrocity. The obit featured what I have come to think of as great grandfather’s headshot, the kind of eight-by-ten glossy that actors and musicians send out with their clips and reviews when hoping for an audition. It’s the same photo used in all of his obituaries and, during his lifetime, whenever an article by or about him called for a picture.