I don't have a picture right handy, but I have the S&W Victory Model my Daddy carried throughout the late 50s and 60s. My brother has his Model 66 no dash, and my Mama (90 years old in two weeks) still carries the Model 37 he bought for her in the early 70s.
He carried a S&W Triple Lock .44 when he was a Georgia Wildlife Ranger in the late 1930s, but that one was long gone before I was born.
A friend of mine has the break top Iver Johnson .32 that my Granddaddy's moonshine partner used to kill a police officer on the street in Butler, Georgia some time between 1900 and 1910. I remember hearing my Granddaddy tell the story many times. The newly hired constable, as he was called, an Irishman from up north, made an unprovoked attack on the man. He knocked him down in the street with a slap-jack, and got a .32 slug between the eyes for his troubles. Granddad said he was in the woods about a quarter mile out of town, pouring likker from gallon jugs into pints and half-pints, when he heard the shot. It turned out that the Irishman had been paid off by a rival moonshine faction to arrest my Granddaddy and his partner. It was his first and last day on the job.
Rural South Georgia was every bit as wild and wooly 100 years ago as the wild West.