Memories

I was chatting online the other day with my friend, Bridgett, who mentioned she was restoring an old Camaro she got from her mom. That reminded me of the Camaro that I owned when I was younger. It was a '77 model with a 4 on the floor, and I honestly can't remember the size of the engine except that it was quite powerful and got lousy gas mileage. Of course, gas was about 50 cents a gallon back then so it wasn't too bad.

It was my first new car and I bought it while I stationed in Nuclear Power School in Orlando, Florida. Wanda really liked the Camaro body style, so that was one of the reasons I decided to go with the model. Mine didn't have a lot of features, but as a young E-4 in the Navy, it was about as much as I could afford. It took me back and forth between Orlando and Atlanta almost every weekend for 6 months, and then took me from Orlando to Idaho Falls, Idaho for Nuclear Power Training Unit (NPTU) instruction. Wanda and I then drove the car from Idaho to Connecticut shortly after we got married and kept the car until our first child was born. I then sold it to one of my younger brothers who kept it for many years after that.

In the photo above, Wanda, all of 17 years old, is sitting on the car during a stop in the middle of Wyoming. She was a bit car sick and quite warm. We were traveling during the summer and the Camaro had no air conditioning - which didn't matter too much once we got to Connecticut.

One nice thing about being a prolific photographer is the images that you can pull out of your archives to help you remember so many different things. If Bridgett hadn't mentioned her Camaro, though, I probably wouldn't have remembered this image for quite a while. Thanks, Bridge.

Memories and Photos

I bought my first "real" camera in late 1978. A real camera for me was an SLR (Single Lens Reflex) that used interchangeable lenses, had built in metering, and could use an automatic flash. I had always been interested in photography, but had never owned anything more sophisticated than a Polaroid that my then fiance bought me for a birthday present.

I was inspired to get a better camera by one of my best friends and room-mates. He purchased an Olympus OM-1 SLR in the summer of 1978 and shortly afterwards a group of us (him, my wife, me and another friend and roommate)went on a rafting trip down the Snake River in Idaho and then traveled cross-country from Idaho to Georgia passing through Yellowstone National Park and Grand Tetons National Park along the way. The quality of his photos, compared to mine was like night and day. So, for Christmas in 1978, I got a Canon AT-1 SLR camera and a 50mm f/1.8 FD lens. I still have both the camera and lens and they still take great photos nearly some 30 years later.

Of course, I wasn't very good at first. I had to learn about exposure, depth of field, sharpness, composition and all the other aspects of real photography. I loved every minute of it. So, by 1988, I felt I had a pretty good handle on things. When I look back, though, I find many flaws in the photos I took back then. It was fortunate that I had a willing a patient model (models if you count my kids, who were willing but usually quite impatient).

The photos in this post are from the 10th Anniversary trip that my wife and I took to Florida. These were taken on the beach at Fort Lauderdale. She got a lot of catcalls and whistles while we were shooting and totally enjoyed the attention. These photos are scans from the original print and so lack the clarity and "pop" of the digital photos I currently take. But these photos have a history and they bring back memories of a wonderfully fun vacation in the hot Florida sun with a beautiful woman. And bringing back memories are what photos do best.

Mortality

My mother died recently. It was an expected death. She had been quite sick for a very long time. She had a heart attack in 2000, developed diabletes in 2001, continued to smoke after her heart attack (2-3 packs a day), and then developed emphysema, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease and Congestive Heart Failure. I thought I was moving forward after her passing, but my uncle died last week from almost exactly the same health issues. Then, this last Friday, a friend died in a car accident leaving behind a wife and two small children. All this death just makes me think of my own mortality and takes me back to thoughts of my mom.

Despite her failing health, my mom was a scrappy fighter. She came out to Oregon for a visit every year from 1997 until 2005 until she was too sick to travel. So I went to see her. She was living with my Aunt Joyce and had been for twenty years, and they fussed like a couple of old hens - but they loved each other and wouldn't have it any other way. They grew up together and fussed then, so it was only natural they would do it when they got older.

Over the years she made sure she visited her grandchildren whenever she could. She came for both weddings my children have had, and she loved our 4th of July cookouts. But what she loved most was sitting out on my back deck in the wonderful Oregon summer away from the high heat and humidity of the Southern climate. Once out there she would just sit and enjoy the breeze and watch all the birds fly by. She was thilled to no end once when a fledging red-tailed hawk landed on the back fence.

Sometimes she would sit on the deck and paint. She brought her oils and brushes with her and we would get her small canvases to work on. Sometimes she painted rocks, driftwood and other materials. I still have some painted rocks in the planter on my deck. She was very artistic and always came up with some new idea for a craft item or a decorative display.

She loved her grandchildren and that was the role she cherished most. She was known as Granny to them and all their friends. Heck, aftter a while even her kids started calling her Granny.

Last year, I made her an hour long DVD entitled "Memories with Granny" and I gave it to her for Christmas. She loved it and showed it to all her friends and family. In the end, she requested that it be shown at her funeral. So it was. So, for an hour, we watched a video depicting her life in photos, videos, music and more importantly, in her own words. It was a most unconventional funeral for a most unconventional woman, and I think, a fitting tribute to her.

We'll miss you Granny.