A Ticket to the Past

The Power of a Box of Photos

I have a family who have moved a lot.

At one point my two brothers, mother and I each lived on a different continent.

Though we all called South Africa home until 1992.

This Easter we will all get together for the first time back in South Africa.

And this will be the second time we four have been in the same place since my father died in 2001.

I knew little of who my father was, beyond him being my dad and the childish preoccupations of what he could do for me.

Then latterly was a teenager railing against his very presence.

Then he was gone.

Before my mother packed up our family home, she gave me a large wooden box of photos.

I’ve been sifting through these.

I have found photos of my dad as a man who wouldn’t look out of place in the modern cool of Customs House in Edinburgh… though the photo must be from the late 60s in South Africa.

Stylish. Youthful. Free.

My dad.

I have smaller photos from an unknown relative… but the brilliance is the photographer has written on the back of them.

1930s snaps.

• Military camps with the Pyramids in Egypt.

• Washing day in Ceylon.

• Sweet stall in Shanghai.

• Railways in Wellington.

• Aircraft wreckages.

• Icebergs in the Atlantic.

“An iceberg - Note the rather good effect of the sun on the water. The berg was not so very large. Mid Atlantic.”

Beautiful photographs of this person’s life adventures. He took a moment to pause and record them.

Stories behind which we wouldn’t know if the story wasn’t written on the backs of them.

“Home-made sweet stall, Shangai”

They open up a world which no longer exists.

Offer a ticket to worlds we are connected to, but cannot reach.

“A view of the pyramids 12 1/2 miles away whilst in action against Bedouin tribes men”

Coming back to the present day.

Which photos of ours will survive?

How many from a CD Rom can you get to?

Technology moves on.

It is only prints that transcend time.

One step better: It’s the prints with their story on the back that will connect you to those who’ve never met you, giving a glimpse into your world.

So it got me thinking:

What will someone know about me?

What do you want them to remember about you?

Do you have those memories that are important, printed?