A couple years ago my former wife called to say she was finally getting the
basement cleared of all the junk and I should take care of my remnants. Taking
her seriously I went over to view my clutter two weeks later. I remember that cleanup being a common wish since before our divorce eighteen years ago.
Through the dimly lit cellar, a Brazilian batik on the
far wall marked my old territory. A shelf unit of old National Geographic’s,
obsolete darkroom equipment, and a metal footlocker from my Navy days marked my
isolated corner. Under the Bessler Enlarger and an Ektachrome processing tank
was my large instrument shipping chest with an air cargo label from Brazil. Unveiled,
I had to force it away from the wall to get it unlatched. Once opened, I was
too overwhelmed at my initial sightings to dig deeply into this myriad of
papers, objects, and articles. I would need many solace, leisure moments to
look through such treasures. Four large grocery bags were overloaded with the
loose papers. With a couple armloads of larger folders and sketch pads filled
the trunk of my car and I was on my way home. I brought everything into my
house and set it aside for the right time.
My friend was over for an artist-date a couple days
later. I was quick to point out the batik and a gifted piece of art by Odete
Finadi of Madonna and Child. We cajoled in going over my old darkroom efforts
of black and white prints. The sketch pads had many charcoal drawings given in
a classroom setting. Many had significant memories for me but we only perused
an old talent.
I came upon the large instrument chest at the close of my
work in Ghana in 1976. Some German technicians received the container with some
instrumentation and thirty dollars made it mine. Let’s call it “Gauss” for the
sake of this story. It was necessary to ship the multitude of artifacts that I
had acquired during my stay. Sometime later I used Gauss to send my personal
effects on my emigration to Brazil. While there, it was my footlocker. For my
return to the States, Gauss contained my world.
The coming weekend was ideal to dig into those grocery
bags of memorabilia. Most significant were the many letters from friends and
family. Having worked out of a suitcase for eight years, many acquaintances
along the way were held dearly, as my worldly family. Christmas cards were a
definite keep-in-touch media. When I was in faraway places, letters had a
better connection. The old stamp and envelope contents held messages that today
would have been long ago lost as email from hard-drive crashes or technology
upgrades. Letters from mother are very dear, never one to hide her concern my
well-being. She, of course, would never have been so impersonal to write other
than in articulated cursive. Sandy filled both sides of an eighteen by five
inch yellow construction paper with her whimsical prose. Ann’s calligraphic
script could never be found in any custom font selection today. How did we ever
get through a handwritten letter without a cut, paste, backspace, or delete? There
were a few decorative note-cards that needed to be concluded by writing up the
margins. Many from Ghana and Europe wrote on feather-weight envelopes to
properly save postage handling.
Memorabilia took many forms. A ticket stub recalled the
concert at Neuschwanstein Castle following my work in Ghana 4 September 1976. I
had several calendars that I picked up at Photokina exhibition in Cologne
Germany on 10 September 1976. Hotel bills, baggage claims, and airline tickets
marked a major series of adventures from Europe, Africa, South America, and
home. If it mattered, I could rebuild those calendar events.
I am thinking that Gauss should be saved and brought to
my basement. Grocery bags are not fit for such treasures. I will put everything
back as I found it. When memories start to dissipate, I will know where to find
them.
