Bent over his typewriter on a cool spring day. We have no idea if he had a toothache, wanted to give up cigarettes, couldn't wait to go home to see his wife, was regretting that extra slice of pie he had for supper, worried about his bowels, was still chuckling over Lum & Abner, read the Star or the Tribune -

No idea. To find out the name of this man, you'd have to get the reverse directories from the year this picture was taken. (It's undated.) And then you'd have to find the floor plans of the National Building, tie a company to the window, find out who worked there, and who was bald and typing during a spring afternoon.

If this man knew he was being photographed for his one shot a posterity, he might have looked up; he might have smiled.