Betsy Ross, the country's most renowned seamstress and legendary creator of the first version of the Stars and Stripes, is portrayed in a famous painting recently restored by art conservator Carole Abercauph, AS '86M--just in time for display at the Republican National Convention in Philadelphia.

The painting depicts Betsy showing the first flag to George Washington, patriot Robert Morris and her uncle, George Ross, with the tools of her trade--a pincushion, thread, scissors, scraps of fabric--and a diagram of the flag beside her.

Painted by Philadelphia artist Charles H. Weisgerber in 1893, the life-sized Birth of Our Nation's Flag was a tremendous undertaking with great historical value, Abercauph says. "It is the image we all have of the legend of Betsy Ross and the flag."

In 1895, she says, millions of small reprints of the painting were sold to pay for the restoration of Betsy Ross' house, and the painting also was reproduced as a stamp in 1952, to commemorate the 200th anniversary of Betsy Ross' birth.

The 9-by-12-foot painting has been reborn under the talented hands of Abercauph and her intern, Jon Lorenz. Donated to the city of Philadelphia by Weisgerber's grandsons, the painting will be a focal point of the PoliticalFest at Convention Hall when the Republicans gather for their national convention this summer.

"Restoring the painting was a challenge," Abercauph says. On the landscape of the painting, she repaired craters, cracks, holes and flaking paint and cleaned away grime. Moreover, in an earlier restoration, the painting had been mended with an automobile repair material, Bondo, which took Abercauph and Lorenz weeks to pick off. And, the last time the painting was exhibited, around the time of the Vietnam War, a person demonstrating against the flag had slashed Washington's legs and boots.

Using an acrylic emulsion adhesive, Abercauph mounted the painting onto a two-layer fabric to stabilize the painting. This backing material had to be ironed on the canvas--a task she accomplished by crawling on blocks of foam around the back of the painting. The painting was then stretched and mounted and the actual retouching began.

Because of its size, the painting arrived in Abercauph's studio rolled up, and it departed the same way, for delivery to the art handlers for remounting and framing.

The picture of Betsy had interesting company in Abercauph's studio. Easels are scattered around, and there is a potpourri of artwork in the process of being restored: St. Peter dominates one painting for LaSalle University; rhythmic Polynesian dancers and musicians are depicted in a colorful painting for a gallery in Hawaii; a portrait of a formidable founder of the Philadelphia Athenaeum contrasts with a life-sized depiction of a young Victorian child from Switzerland in her lace dress and high-topped shoes. Built-in bins store many more paintings awaiting their turn to be revitalized.

Abercauph came to her current profession the roundabout way. A native Philadelphian, she studied painting at the Philadelphia College of Art, now the University of the Arts, but then worked as a social worker for 15 years. "I have no regrets. I learned a lot about people," she says.

When she left social work, she heard about the UD/Winterthur Art Conservation Program and decided it was right for her--allowing her to use her painting talents in restoration work.

"The first year was spent learning about different kinds of restoration--painting, works on paper, objects and textiles. The second year was more hands-on experience, and the third year was an internship. I worked at the Williamstown Regional Art Conservation Laboratory in Massachusetts for two years before starting my own painting restoration business. It's a small field and work came my way pretty quickly. I've never advertised. It's all been word of mouth," she says.

As an artist (she currently is interested in sculpture and plaster casts) and restoration expert, Abercauph is a dedicated art lover. She treated herself to grand tour of Europe for four months because "there were things I just had to see," she says. On her trip, Abercauph became so enamored of Rome and its art treasures that she moved there for two years. "I took art courses and visited different sites every day and still never saw all there is to see," she recalls.

Different periods of her art life are displayed in her studio, including an African-type mask she carved from the top of a piano stool when she was 10 years old, a Philadelphia landscape she later painted, a plastic cast of an oversized elaborate Belgian cookie and a sculpture she made of a male reclining figure. But, mainly, the studio is dominated by the works she is restoring.

Looking back, Abercauph says of her second career, "It was the perfect choice for me."