World War II

I’ve written before about the neccesity of labeling vintage photos. Not surprisingly then when I saw this headline in my RSS reader, I clicked over to read the material - World War II Wife Cherishes Photos Saved from Hurricane.

Many of my friends felt that I went a little preparedness whacko after Hurricane Katrina. Yes, I have a couple of backpacks full of emergency supplies. I’m more likely to depend on myself after that debacle than to wait for my government to help me out. In addition to buying water purification tablets, a hand-cranked flashlight/radio combo, and a bunch of canned goods, I also bought a couple of flash drives. You know, those little USB “thumb” drives that are so popular these days. I scanned all my most important documents and placed them on a thumb drive, which is with me at all times.

The second drive is for photos. I’ve been into digital photography since 1999 but I also scanned all the irreplaceable family photos in my possession (some dating back to the Civil War), the ones I’d be heartbroken to lose. All those images and the super important ones I’ve taken myself that were already in digital format are safely on that drive. Both drives are in an old Altoids tin in my purse and there are back-ups on an additional two thumb drives in my emergency bags.

The WWII widow profiled in the news story said, “Let me tell you one thing: If you are ever in a hurricane, make sure to get your photographs out.” It doesn’t matter if we’re talking fire, flood, or storm, take measures to protect your invaluable photos. Thumb drives are solid state — no moving points — and small enough to carry on your person. It’s not a bad idea to put them in something reasonably waterproof (a plain old bag will do.) With most of these “thumb” devices now selling for under $50 (you probably don’t need more than 1 or 2gb for these purposes) this is one of the least expensive and most important insurance policies you’ll ever buy.

WWII, vintage photo, preservation

Regular readers may recall this post from August 1st about Ron Modro’s photographic project to commemorate the Hiroshima anniversary on August 6 at 8:15 a.m.

More than 40 photographers from 25 nations took a single photograph at that instant as both a memorial and a wake-up signal for the crises and challenges confronting our world today. The images are now beginning to appear in the gallery at Ron’s site, Once Upon A Time on Planet Earth.

Prepared to be moved, amused, and provoked to serious thought. One image in particular brought tears to my eyes, that of a little girl and her grandfather seated together in the early morning in France. His arm is around her tiny waist, he’s pointing at something across the water, and even in profile the child’s delight is obvious. (The image is by Sherry Jackson of the Netherlands.)

When you see a moment in time 63 years after the ushering in of terrible technology capable of threatening our planet you get both a sense of the resiliency and the fragility of our world . . . and perhaps even, a glimpse into the things for which men at war fight because they are dear in their hearts. Beautiful work. I’m looking forward to the remainder of the images as they are posted.

Hiroshima, Ron Modro, photography

You’d be hard pressed to find a more icongraphic World War II photo than this one of a sailor locking lips with a nurse on V-J Day. Eighty-year-old Houston resident Glenn McDuffie has claimed for many years that he’s the lucky man in the photo. Now a forensic artist from the Houston Police Department, Lois Gibson, says McDuffie is telling the truth.

Gibson, according to the 2005 Guiness Book, has helped police to nail more suspects than any other forensic artist in the business. She posed McDuffie in his uniform and measured various parts of his body and features, comparing them to enlarged versions of the famous Alfred Eisenstaedt photograph. Her conclusion? McDuffie is the man in the picture.

Life magazine, however, isn’t buying it. Eisenstaedt didn’t bother to get the identity of the sailor and Life execs maintain the story of the famous photo will forever remain a mystery.

My opinion? Life is being hard-as . . . well, you get the idea. This old man has lung cancer. He’s gone through three wives, played a little semi-professional baseball, put in time with the Postal Service. He wants the world to know he’s the young sailor in the photo that day and I think he deserves his due. I mean really? Would a guy be likely to forget a lip lock like this one? And what is there to be gained from lying all these years?

For the article from the Washington Post, click here.

V-J Day, Alfred Eisenstaedt, Glenn McDuffie, Lois Gibson, WWII

The Christmas before my father died I insisted the three of us sit down together and label all the old photos that filled the drawers of the end tables in the seldom-used living room. What started as a chore about which my parents grumbled turned into an afternoon of laughter and story telling that remains a happy memory for me. I love old photos and it breaks my heart when the story behind the image is lost forever.

Sometimes at night when I can’t sleep I poke around on EBay, often looking at World War II photos that have outlived their original owners and become lost and homeless fragments of an age rapidly retreating from known memory. Look at this wrecked jeep. What happened? Is the damage battle-related or did a youthful G.I. go for a joy ride?

Or this group of sailors. Young, cocky, showing off their bare chests. The Ebay description plainly said, “There is no writing on the backside.” Did they live? Did they die? Is there anyone today who would know their faces? I find it both maddening and compelling.

I suppose a part of me always thinks I’ll find a snapshot of my Dad, taken by some buddy in North Africa or Italy, now sitting on EBay waiting for me to rescue and love. It’s a romantic notion. The odds are long even for someone like me who has bet on her fair share of gray horses at 20 to 1. But I do it anyway.

The message in this post? If you know a World War II veteran, spend an afternoon with that person and get those photos labeled. Learn the stories. Our days with “the boys” are numbered and once they are gone the photos will fall silent, most likely forever.

[tag]WWII, EBay, photos, vintage[/tags]

Being one of those folks who has a camera pretty much surgically attached to my hand, I’m always on the look out for interesting old photos. I was digging around on Flickr yesterday and ran across this set of images uploaded by a New Orleans man. All the photos are of his grandfather during World War II.

While at the same time that it’s frustrating not to know all the stories or put names to the men in the photos, it’s heartwarming to see a shirtless group of young boys cutting up with some kind of tropical fronds or to see a freshly scrubbed GI standing crisply at attention with his rifle.

As I was flipping through the photos I notice that they belong to a World War II Vintage Photo Pool. Oh. My. God. Be prepared to waste a considerable amount of time on these images. They’re from everywhere and they include everything from sweetly nostalgic images like the ones above to holocaust photos.

Flickr is one of those sites where you can get lost anyway. If you scroll to the bottom of the intial pool page you can browse out to the photo sets of the pool’s major contributors or look at the top five group tags — which gets you to a whole new host of images. Beware — you may look up and realize you’ve spent an hour or more combing through the photos. I did.

photos, vintage, nostalgia, WWII