Today I was armed with the glamorous task of sorting, pricing and packaging a box of photos that I accumulated over the summer. A picture of a geographically malapropos statue for a tiny Texas oil boom town in the 1920s incited a little history lesson....Apparently in 1917, 21 year old Charles H. Noyes fell from his horse trying to rope a calf and died. His parents, completely grief stricken, commissioned the famous Pompeo Coppini to sculpt a statue in memory of their only child. When Coppini traveled to the modest Noyes ranch in 1919 to discuss the statue, he had his doubts about Noyes' ability to pay what amounts to a quarter of a million dollars today, but Noyes assured Coppini that he was prepared to pay twice that. His bridle, boots, and saddle were sent to Chicago to help the sculptor, but since the boy had had only three pictures taken in his life, his parents had to travel to Coppini's Chicago studio when it was time to sculpt the face. After a few adjustments to the sculpture, Mr. Noyes told Coppini "Please do not touch his face again, for that is our dear Charlie." Mr. and Mrs Noyes sold the ranch and did not return for the unveiling, stating that they could not bear to see their son again.
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
12.13.2011
9.25.2011
Dead People's Photos
Children still alive - Norma Lynn's first dance troupe - No gold to be found -That's right |
It may be my twisted Catholic upbringing but I feel a "responsibility" to purchase photos of other people's dead family members. All it takes is some hand tinted pink cheeked Shirley Temple look alike or some square black and white glossy of a street urchin and I am throwing away money.
The way I see it, there are two scenarios. The first is that there is no more family, that everyone who had a vested interest in that particular pink cheeked cutie or ragamuffin is dead and they are forgotten - (unless I buy the photo of course). The second and in my opinion, the most disappointing, is that the children in those photos somehow managed to raise a bunch of thankless degenerates who drove away the Mercedes loaded with every every gram of gold they could sniff out but didn't give a damn about their parents baby pictures or their own for that matter.
That is where I come in - never fear poor deceased cherubs, red, yellow, black and white, because I have your photos and you will become my instant ancestors - my adopted grandparents from dubious geography - my cousins many times removed with foreign features - I am here and in generations to come, my grandchildren will proudly display your photos in their books and on their walls as they share the stories of their very large, very diverse family.
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