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I was taken on a wander away from the centre of Sarajevo by one of the many generous Bosnians I met while in the city. He wanted to show me the residential area around the power station that, due to the Serbian targeting of utilities, had suffered badly from shelling, grenades and sniper fire. It was a small area just a block or two away from the reconstructed and bustling Austro-Hungarian quarter but it was, in clichéd terms, like a different world. There were shelled buildings untouched since 1996 that you could just wander into.
I didn’t expect to be shooting that day so had no tripod so most of the images came out more than a tad blurry so have done what I can to capture some of the gloomy mood by fiddling in an amateur way using DPP. Hopefully you can ignore the blur, the lack of sharpness, the excessive grain and the heavy handed post-processing and enjoy the images for what they are.
Series Description: Umpteenth round of shots from my recent backpack around Bosnia and Croatia
I'll stand where you once stood, I'll taste the air you breathed. I'll remember who I was when we were us. I'll wonder where you are, and if you ever think of me.
This is my cousin Grady.He's single, ladies ;)
This is the sister photo to this picture.
Missing someone is hard.
1909 postmarked postcard view of the Masonic Temple and Main Street in Hope, Indiana. This view was looking northwest from Washington Street near the southwest corner of the Public Square. The 1910 Sanborn™ fire insurance map set for Hope shows these buildings along the west side of Main Street. barbershop occupied the small wood frame building at the left edge of this scene when the map set was being prepared. A dry goods store occupied the first floor of the Masonic Temple Building next door, but that space appears to be empty in this view. The map set shows two separate single-story wood frame buildings north of the Temple. The larger business next to the Temple sold farm implements and buggies while the smaller building was a boots and shoes business. The signs on these two buildings are unreadable. Interestingly, when the 1901 map set was being prepared, all of the buildings in this part of the block were masonry. It is unusual for masonry buildings to be replaced by wood frame buildings in this era.
The sign on the next building advertised a HARDWARE and IMPLEMENTS business and next to it was the DAYLIGHT SHOE STORE. Different businesses occupied wood frame buildings at these locations in 1901, but the 1910 map set shows the hardware store with a tin shop in back and the boots and shoes business. That map set shows a dry goods business and a printing business on the first floor of the two-story brick building north of the shoe store. The map set shows a meat market and a bank occupying the second two-story building. An Opera House (“moving picture”) was located upstairs above the printing business and the meat market. The dwelling at the right edge of this scene was on the northwest corner at the Jackson Street intersection.
The Masonic Temple Building and that second two-story brick building to the north were still standing and in use as of 2015. The buildings farther north in that block appear to match those in this scene as well.
From the collection of Jane Lyle.
The full postcard image can be seen here.
www.flickr.com/photos/hoosier_recollections/32275141466/i...
Copyright 2005-2017 Hoosier Recollections. All rights reserved. This creative JPG file package is an original compilation of materials and data. The package is unique, consisting of a wide variety of related and integrated components. Neither this package in its entirety nor any of the individual components may be downloaded, transmitted or reproduced without the prior written permission of Hoosier Recollections.
Late 2015, SLC 302 was the power for a lot of Cape Cod Central tourist trains. 302 was one of seven F40PH leased by the MBTA in 2015 due to a power shortage. On this day, 302 is the trailing power on a holiday-themed train in Wareham.
c1910 postcard view of a Decoration Day ceremony at Oswego, Indiana. A large group had gathered at a cemetery to celebrate Decoration Day. Everyone had dressed for this occasion and the children were holding wreaths or flower bouquets.
From a private collection.
The full postcard image can be seen here.
www.flickr.com/photos/hoosier_recollections/27990062002/i...
Copyright 2006-2016 by Hoosier Recollections. All rights reserved. This image is part of a creative package that includes the associated text, geodata and/or other information. Neither this package in its entirety nor any of the individual components may be downloaded, transmitted or reproduced without the prior written permission of Hoosier Recollections.
A selection of saints over the west end of Salisbury Cathedral. Many of the saints are unknown to me. I tagged some based on my limited recollection of Christianity or what I could work out from visible attributes, then discovered that Wikipedia has a Table of the Statuary of the West Front of Salisbury Cathedral page!
The panorama was taken as a manual set of three photos, stitched together with Hugin.
'Call me Dave the EU exit route' is back in government,
as foreign secretary. Is this meant as humour?
The regular Hotsy Totsy Burlesque hosts are Cherry Pitz and Handsome Brad, gathering every month for their benefit shows in the basement of Home For Wayward Girls and Fallen Women - "We've fallen, we can't get up, and we like it that way" - who need the money to keep the place open and to stay stocked with G-strings and glitter. Inevitably, antics ensue.
A thorough appreciation of the Hotsy tribute shows really requires a certain gleeful embrace of the hokey. The shows are fantastic fun, and squeezing the various acts into each month's theme is a challenge. Once that's done, it's up to the hosts and writers to find some sort of vague pretense for the action to follow. The resulting plot is really a "plot," in that stretching the word to sheet this particular bed begs for wink-wink quotation marks.
Here Cherry and Brad are dressed for an October presentation of their Peanuts Halloween Pageant. Brad, appearing as Linus to Cherry's Charlie Brown, makes it through the Great Pumpkin Sincerity speech ("I've always wanted to do that!") when suddenly he freezes, paralyzed by an elusive, horrific memory. That time, that distant time, when he was a child, and he and his friends fought together against a nameless evil - he can almost remember, but something awful happened. Didn't it? Or did it?
Which is how the plunge into Hotsy's first ever Tribute to Stephen King begins.
On a side note, I shoot so often in dark spotlit rooms that I have a processing approach that generally serves me well for this kind of thing. Once in a while I'll work on a photo for an hour or two and end up with an image that is nearly exactly the same as it was at the start, except a bit brighter than it was at first pass. It doesn't happen much, and this is one of those.
The KOM League
Flash Report
For
August 23, 2020
This report is accessible on Flickr at: www.flickr.com/photos/60428361@N07/50252399423/
While this report basically deals with the passing of former KOM league members it isn’t morbid in the least. All the people mentioned lived full lives well into their 90’s and each served their country in the war fought by “The Greatest Generation”—thank you Tom Brokaw.
____________________________________________________________________________
Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr.
Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr. Obituary--Here is Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr.’s obituary. Please accept Echovita’s sincere condolences.
It is with great sadness that we announce the death of Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr. (Nampa, Idaho), who passed away on July 3, 2020, at the age of 93, leaving to mourn family and friends. Leave a sympathy message to the family on the memorial page of Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr. to pay them a last tribute. You may also light a candle in honor of Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr.
All that was found of Wattle’s passing is contained, verbatim, in the two paragraphs just cited. To find out a little bit more about him you would need some baseball record books, old newspaper clippings and personal contacts with the deceased and an ex-wife of his. Fortunately, all those things have been at my disposal over the past 25 years.
Wattles was born June 20, 1927 to the former Chalmers Walker a native of Scotland and since he was a Junior there isn’t any need to repeat his father’s name. The Sr. Wattles was born in Stamford, Connecticut in 1871. He had moved west and became a very successful banker holding the position of President in banks in Santa Rosa and Healdsburg, California The elder Wattles had first married in 1894. He married second his wife, Chalmers, June 1, 1921. This link is very interesting regarding Samuel Wattles Sr. It has photos as well. cdnc.ucr.edu/?a=d&d=HT19280105.2.16&e=-------en--...
In 1928 the elder Wattles passed away, see foregoing link, leaving Chalmers to raise three small children, the youngest being Samuel Jr. There are numerous ship manifests where it shows Chalmers and the children made several trips to her homeland. Chalmers remarried, eight years later to a very prominent person in a couple of fields including wine and music, but the children didn’t take on the name of her second husband The account of the wedding is at this link. Read this if you want to know the meaning of “knock your socks off.” cdnc.ucr.edu/cgi-bin/cdnc?a=d&d=HT19360601.2.39&e...
Samuel Jr. was a gifted high school athlete at Healdsburg, California but following his graduation he joined the United States Navy and served his country for three years. One of the Navy vessels on which he served was the USS Joseph P. Kennedy. During his tenure in the Navy, Wattles played for the Des-Pac team at San Diego and in 1948-49 that team was the Naval Fleet champions.
During his service days he was 5’ 11” in height and weighed 172 pounds. He was a left-handed hitter and a right handed thrower and he caught the attention of the Chicago Cubs. Before he played a professional game he married Doreen White on October 30, 1949 in Healdsburg. On March 3, 1950 he filled out his Baseball Questionnaire and stated that he was born June 20, 1929. Another former soldier who knocked two years off his real age in order to get a better shot at a professional career.
On February 2, 1950 the Chicago Cubs assigned Wattles to the Visalia Cubs of the California league. Then his “big break” came when he was sent to Carthage, Mo. on June 20. He finished out the year there where he played in 73 games and hit .309. At the close of the season his contract was returned to Visalia. Then on May 19 of 1951 he was sent to Sioux Falls, South Dakota to play for the Canaries. After a couple of months there he was optioned to New Bern, North Carolina. That ended his baseball career as he was placed on the restricted list in 1952.
When the search of locating former KOM leaguer players was in full throttle, Wattles was located in Carson City, Nevada. He had worked in California for the Highway Patrol and later when living in Reno, Nevada he was employed by the Strand Hotel in what I believe was a security role.
Honesty forbids that I fib or make many assumptions. One time a call was received from a lady asking if I ever heard of Sam Wattles. I admitted that I had. She inquired as to where he was residing and naturally the question was “What is the reason for your question?” That is when I learned I was speaking with one of his former wives. It is documentable that he had at least two. But, this publication is not a gossip column—or is it?
In lieu of there not being an obituary for Samuel Lockwood Wattles Jr. this is one old guys attempt to at least remember a former member of the Carthage Cubs and the KOM league.
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Robert Eugene Field Miami Blues 1946
hutchpost.com/posts/fb425a87-a551-4a67-bda9-2583f2e96de6
Robert Eugene ‘Bob’ Field, 97, died July 15, 2020, at Prairie Sunset Home, Pretty Prairie. He was born August 27, 1922, in Hutchinson, to Brice Wilford and Helen Lucille (Gibbs) Field.
He graduated Hutchinson High School in 1941. Bob served in the United States Army from 1942 to 1943. He was stationed in Africa as a private under General Patton during World War II. Bob retired after 40 years of service as a salesman for Pella Windows. He traveled all over Kansas, and more specifically, western Kansas. Bob was awarded the top salesman per capita for all of the Pella stores in the United States. He was a member of the American Legion Lysle Rishel Post #68 and had received his 75-year membership plaque and pin, and V.F.W. Bob Campbell Post #1361.
On June 16, 2002, Bob married Lelya Mary Albright in Eureka Springs, AR. They shared 18 years of marriage.
Bob is survived by wife, Lelya of Pretty Prairie; daughter, Diane Devine (Wesley) of Olathe, CO; daughter-in-law, Regina Field of Hutchinson; stepchildren, Judith Dewhurst, Eldon Field (Georgia), Justin Field (Joyce); grandchildren, Gary Long (Christa) and Nicole Bellinger (Joe); great-granddaughters, Trinity and Madison Bellinger; and numerous step-grandchildren and step-great-grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by his parents; son, Frederick Field, brother, Gene Field; and a sister, Beverly Hamer.
Funeral service will be 11:00 a.m. Tuesday, July 21, 2020, at Elliott Mortuary, with Pastor Craig Waetke officiating. Burial will follow in Fairlawn Burial Park, Hutchinson, with military honors conducted by the Fort Riley Honor Guard. Friends may call from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m. Sunday and 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. Monday, with the family present from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. at Elliott Mortuary.
Memorials may be made to the Reno County Veterans’ Memorial, in care of Elliott Mortuary, 1219 N. Main, Hutchinson, KS 67501.
Ed comments:
In the August 4, 2020 edition of this publication this statement was made. “Probably the best scorecard format in KOM league history was that of the 1946 Miami club On the front cover were 15 photos of the individual team members. In my possession are various versions of that cover. When the season opened the photo in the middle of the fourth row belonged to Robert Field of Hutchinson, Kansas. (On 8/27/2020 Bob Field, the oldest living former KOM leaguer, will celebrate his 98th birthday.) Three weeks into the season the photo occupying that spot was that of Ralph Marler. For those owning a purchased, borrowed or stolen copy of the “great tome” The KOM League Remembered, that photo is depicted on page 12.”
As is evident to the reader, Mr. Field had passed away a short time before the foregoing paragraph was written. He had a long tenure with baseball in Hutchinson going back to when they were a Pittsburgh Pirate farm club and he was their batboy. A number of future Pittsburgh Pirates went through there. One fellow, Frank Gustine, encouraged Field to pursue a baseball career. Before he could do so, however, WW II came along and he was off to serve his country.
When the KOM League formed a number of fellows from Central Kansas were interested in joining the Miami club. Field had played many years of local baseball with the Beran brothers, from Claflin. He along with Joe from the Beran clan went to Miami to tryout and make the team. Beran was a pitcher in his first season of professional baseball. Before the season concluded Field had been released. The Brooklyn Dodgers selected Beran as one of the six players they had an option and sent him to Ponca City in 1947 and he became a power hitter over the next half dozen or so years in pro ball.
When the KOM league reunions first began Field and the Beran brothers would travel together to every event. Three Beran brothers attended the reunions only one of which played in the KOM league. There were two other brothers who played in the KOM league but they never attended any event.
The Field/Beran clan attended the reunions together for some were bachelors and others widowers. Then around 2002 things changes as Field remarried and starting bringing his new bride, Leyla, to all the events. She was a very great addition for she was full of live and a very talented pianist. Over the years I heard a lot from the newlyweds and they were always excited when talking on the telephone about the great times they had at KOM league reunions.
So, Bob Field is greatly missed. In the April 13, 2020 edition of this publication the following list appeared, showing the oldest living former KOM leaguers.
Robert E. Field-- 8/27/1922 (Miami 1946)
Willis Frank Carruth-- 9/30/1922 (Bartlesville 1948)
Ruel WilliamWaggener--10/23/1923 (Pittsburg and Bartlesville 1946 then Bartlesville 1947)
Jasper Bono-- 3/15/1924 (Chanute 1946)
Nicholas Kucher --11/1/1924 (Ponca City 1947)
John Lawrence Bulkley --1/5/1925 (Chanute 1946-47)
William Edward McProuty --2/27/1925 (Independence 1947)
Robert J. Kapinus-- 4/10/1925 (Iola 1946)
Peter S. Maropis--9/27/1925 (Bartlesville 1948)
Since that was published two names have to be taken off the board—Robert Field and Willis Carruth. So, Ruel Waggener moves to the top of the list. He probably doesn’t know that he holds the top spot. Here’s hoping he does so for a long time. To the best of my knowledge he resides in a nursing home in Peoria, Illinois.
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Chanute Athletics pitcher 1950 passes away
Peter Swain
www.legacy.com/obituaries/oaoa/obituary.aspx?p
MIDLAND - "Coach" Peter Swain departed from this life on July 3, 2019, he was 91 years old. Pete was born on May 11, 1928, in Laurel, Nebraska. His parents were Josina and Peter Swain.
He grew up in Long Beach, California, and attended Long Beach Poly Tech High School. A prominent baseball player growing up, Pete signed with the then-Boston Braves organization after graduating high school. After four seasons with the Braves organization, Pete was drafted into the Army in 1949. After serving two years in the Army, he returned to professional baseball in 1953 to the then-Milwaukee Braves. After the 1953 season, Pete joined Texas ranching legend Herbert Kokernot and his Alpine Cowboys to finish his playing career. Pete attended Sul Ross State University where he received his degree in Geology and was also the head coach of the Lobo baseball team where he led them in winning the 1957 NAIA National Championship.
After baseball and coaching, Pete went into the oil and gas industry where he enjoyed a 60-year career that took him all over the world. Pete enjoyed traveling with his wife, being with his family and the game of baseball. His sense of humor and quick wit never left him short of good one-liners that were enjoyed by all. He loved with a full and honest heart that was felt by all those that ever met him, but above all he was a true disciple of his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Pete is survived by his wife of 50 years, Carol Swain of Midland. He is also survived by his sister, Marlene Bangs of Medford, Oregon; daughter, Carol Wilson of Midland, Texas; son, Lou Swain of Midland, Texas; his grandchildren, Jordan Wilson of Midland, Texas, Josh Wilson, and wife, Brenna Wilson of Lubbock, Texas, John Wesley Wilson, and wife, Gretchen Wilson of Midland, Texas, Caitlin Riemer, and husband, Lee Riemer of Austin, Texas, Jackson Wilson of Lubbock, Texas, Meghan Swain of Midland, Texas, Addison Swain of Midland, Texas; his great-grandchildren Knox Wilson, Cooper Wilson, Mia Wilson and Collier Wilson; and his step-children, Joe Jay, and wife, Nancy Jay of Nasa, Texas, John Jay, and wife, Ann Jay of Seabrook, Texas, Jennifer Newland, and husband, Richard Newland of Katy, Texas, and their families.
Funeral service will be held at 2:00 p.m., Tuesday, July 9, 2019 at Nalley-Pickle & Welch Chapel. Interment will follow at Resthaven Memorial Park. Pallbearers will be Lou Swain, Jordan Wilson, Josh Wilson, John Wesley Wilson, Jackson Wilson and John Jay.
Guilt, the gift that keeps on giving—A Pete Swain Memo from 9/19/2015
John: Just finished the latest the latest KOM report. You made me feel very guilty. I always look for the report read it and then go about my business. I guess I am like most of the old ball gamers. We take it for granted until we don't receive one, then we start checking the batter’s box. It's kind of like getting the take sign on a 3 - 2 count. I'll do better, keep up the great work. Believe it or not you are greatly admired and appreciated. Hope all is well with you and your family. Keep those score cards coming. Thanks for your dedication. Pete Swain—Midland, TX 1950 Chanute Athletics
Ed note:
Swain had five summers in the minor leagues but the highlight of his career had to be having played centerfield for the Alpine, TX Cowboys. That was an amateur team which participated in the National Baseball Congress tourney in Wichita, KS. In 1956, when Johnny Podres of the Brooklyn Dodgers was in the Army, his services were secured to pitch one game for the Cowboys. Swain still recalls standing in the outfield and watching balls that Podres threw that he had never witnessed from any other pitcher.
When the first contact was made with Swain, in 2009, and he was impressed I could track him and how I guessed the circumstances of his moving from Nebraska to California. It was easy to assume for his father died leaving his mother to raise three small children in a place where it would have been difficult to provide for them.
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Last minute addition—Death of a funny, serious man.
As this report was being finalized, late on August 22 the computer notified me that Jack Morris, the “Baseball Necrologist” had sent along some sad news. It carried the obituary of Howard Hunt. Hunt was a regular at KOM events and always made a presentation that kept the attendees in stitches. www.siskbrothers.com/obituaries/Howard-Hunt-Jr/#!/Obituary
Knowing that it was going to take a while to do justice in sharing his life the decision has been made to hold off until the next time in relating the life and times of a guy who was wittier than Don Rickles and presented some of his speeches much in the manner of Leo Gorcey of the Bowery Boys fame.
All of Hunt’s former teammates, who are still vertical, have been contacted and there is a ton of material to prepare. The next edition will most likely be totally about him and his 1950-51 Iola teammate’s recollections of such things as: The Falcons club, the purchase of a 1936 Terraplane automobile and the family member of one teammate who was known nationally as “The Banana Girl.” That story alone could fill an entire report.
So, if you made it through the Democrat convention and also survive the Republican version, tune into the next edition for some remarkable stories as seen through the eyes of the 1950-51 Iola Indians. What they lacked as far as a winning percentage they made up for in interesting backgrounds.
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Amy Davison: Artist Statement
As a child, I grew up in a home filled with memories, objects with memories, objects that relate to other objects with memories and a family who obviously loves to collect. At a young age, I noticed that there were many gatherers in my life that absolutely loved to hoard, like myself, such as my family members, best friends and teachers. As I matured, it finally occurred to me that collecting was a type of art, versus the internal/external conflict I had been struggling with for a long time.
It has taken many years to find an outlet, as well as an actual form for my art, through which I can express my concern for the multitude of objects that seem to be growing by the day in and around my home. Throughout my life, I have collected many things such as board games, objects in nature, random boxes and keys, but first and foremost, before any other item, I have collected friends.
In 2008, an identity piece I worked with in my sculpture class caused me to interview those closest to me. I conducted a survey with each individual and placed them in old books, which were used to fill a hollowed log—returning the books to their original state. I was then able to give each of the carefully selected books a purpose and a personality, one that was more meaningful to me. The log was symbolic of my connection to the earth, to my surroundings, as well as its contents and the individuals that each book contains within. This project helped open my eyes to the lives of the wonderful people surrounding me and led to further interest in examining them; therefore, it was the actual contents of the log library that essentially led to this exhibition: The Art of Recollecting. Therein, both re-collecting the collections of others that are close to me and also reminiscing on the pasts of each person and the objects they have collected.
This installment allows for the chance to share with the world a gathering of both my friends and influences in the art world and the incredible assemblies that have been acquired from them. I hope that with this project I will open the eyes, hands and hearts of my audience to the wonderful world of collecting, with every intention of finding beauty in the bountiful.
Now, here is your chance to get to know them as I have. Please play along by choosing a Bingo ball, finding the corresponding collection, studying a portion of each very personal assortment, and then you may examine their reasons for collecting with the matching interview sheets, which can be found within each marked envelope. Each of you may tally up your selections and record your experiences using the Bingo cards, so that I may learn how this collection might have inspired you. Thank you and enjoy!
©Jane Brown2013 All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without explicit written permission
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In Cheltenham again yesterday as Peter had to go to the solicitor re his parents' estate. The literary festival was on - bad time to go. The reservations I felt after my first visit to my birthplace after many years a few weeks ago were still with me.
RolleiFlex : FUJIFILM NEOPANN ACROS100
生まれたての緑は
空に向かい大きく呼吸していた
今年の春には眩しくて美しい藤の花を咲かせるのだろう。
【Recollection】 1/1~2/15
アイランドギャラリー沖縄さんにて展示しております。http://sesoko.ti-da.net/
Something different for the TOY (Re)collections show at LULUBELL toy Bodega in Tuscon Arizona. The concept of this show is for artists to create work that reflects their early memory of toys and what influenced them to become toy designers. I chose to illustrate the oft-told tale of when I was nine and tried to make a mold of my Greedo figure out of a bar of soap and then cast in in melted Green crayon.
The show is Saturday, June 5th
from 6-9PM
Lulubell Toy Bodega
439 N. 6th Avenue, Suite 187
Tucson, AZ 85705
.
A head full of notions, a heart filled with feelings mixed and plentiful, as tired limbs stand once more upon the wooden bridge that dominated my childhood, and peppered my recollections. Jet-lag grips my sinews like a vice, as eyelids falter and the lengthy journey takes it's toll upon my weary flesh. Even the comfort and luxury of business class accommodation could not halt the furtive ramblings of my wandering mind as a series of memories, like snapshots from the lens of my brain, play themselves out and all thoughts of sleeping off the long hours of boredom fly out of the window.
There are downs to living on opposite sides of this beautiful Earth as I am finding out right about now, my light travel bag carefully accommodated in my pristine bedroom which has the same appearance that I recall from those distant days, as though sealed in a time capsule and awaiting my return. I've travelled light, no intention of staying longer than the time needed to honour the written word of deceased hands, ready to face possibly the final insult in a lifetime of missed opportunity and faltering attempts at peacekeeping duties. At least I still have Raymond, who has not changed since my last visit here some five years ago, all but a few more laughter lines perhaps, and a soulless look to those sallow eyes that are tinged with signs of glaucoma, his stubborn resistance to ever wearing spectacles that 'Make me look too old, too young'", as I remember him saying in his glory days. A proud and resolute man, fiercely loyal to the slavery that had him willingly incarcerated within the walls of my family home through course of what seems like his entire lifetime.
For years he tended to my fathers every needs, the eccentricities of my Mother's ways and my childhood memories are filled with our little secrets as he allowed me the freedom of my tender years to play and laugh where my parents demanded that their children be neither seen nor heard. Standing on the bridge, gazing down upon the giant koi carp that surface for air, fixing me with inquisitive eyes as they gulp and dive, I can see my reflection staring back at me. From boy to man, from innocence to experience, a lonely pathway trodden in those formative years when all a child craves is the love and affection of those who created him. I sigh as I think back to a lifetime of longing to be touched, to be held and caressed by my Mother, to be treated as anything other than a consequence of business, a body to carry on the family business and uphold the traditions passed down by decades of toil. If she could have paid another person to go through the pain and trauma of childbirth back then, I swear she would have jumped at the opportunity.
Rebellion is a funny thing, it can be all consuming as a mind sets a course to follow in any direction other than the ones laid down against one's will. As tiny bones grew and the summers came and passed with painful monotony, I made my decision to buck the trend, to stand my ground and be the man I wanted to be rather than the one that was expected of me. Long nights arguing with an authoritarian in his antique library, hands beating wildly upon the old Mahogany table, flushed cheeks and raised tones that could neither deter nor prevent my departure from the family prison that this land had become. Boarding school irritated me to the point of no return and following the embittered footsteps of siblings into the family empire with gold painted letters of conformity etched upon the gaudy glass doors of my own office was never a road of possibility despite the pressure of my peers.
My return here today cuts like a knife, rekindling memories so long now locked away in the troubled confines of my mind. Brooding, seething, bursting with anger, I had made the break and wished a fond farewell to those who, despite their inadequacies, I still very much loved. And those summers of my youth on this bridge, far enough away to be out of earshot, entombed in the beauty of Mother natures ample bosom, sitting on the wooden deck, dipping toes into the icy water as the fish nibbled at them inquisitively. Raymond used to sneak me out tall pitchers of lemonade and my favourite biscuits, telling white lies to pacify the probing questions as to mmy whereaboutshis dapper gait and brylcreemed hair shining in the afternoon sun as he winked and turned towards the house to act as my protector. Now his hair is silver grey, his limbs move slower than they used to, the pain of arthritis in those ageing hips, and tearful eyes as the realization of his master's passing truly hit home.
A privileged childhood that I never asked for, by the age of twenty one I was a fugitive in my parents eyes, five thousand miles away on an entirely different continent, penniless and starving but for a desire to succeed and a will to make something of my life. Time has made me less bitter towards my past, as I place my hands upon the old wooden rails to the bridge of memories. I knew one day this moment would come, curious perhaps as to how I might feel as I unlock the bedroom doors, and retrace those hidden doors I used to escape through that my parents never knew existed. What treasures will await me that were left within so many years ago?
Those few phone calls exchanged with my parents in their latter years had shown that wounds no matter how deep can heal with patience and understanding. Five years since my mother's passing, I'm home once more to face the doubters, the pointing fingers, the hangers on who clamber frantically from the dark recesses to claim their pound of flesh. The truth is that nothing has really altered, and I've been an orphan all my life, desperate for love, craving understanding, needing to be held. Love is a two way street, though it seemed as though I was constantly swimming against the tide of resentment in a one way street. I wish I'd had the opportunity to really talk to my Mother before her passing, to ask her if she truly believed that keeping me at arms length with the milk of surrogacy to quench my needs replacing the warmth of her own flesh as the only faces I ever saw in those early years were a succession of hire for pay nannies who despised me for my privileged ancestry and loathed me for my bloodline.
Raymond stands at the far end of the bridge, a raised index finger to catch my attention and the makings of a gentle smile that signify we are ready to proceed. I could do without the mass grieving, the shallow words and meaningless handshakes. Crocodile tears are as worthless as the muted smiles of disbelief when the reality of your place in a dead man's life are read out on the written page by a suited viper who takes great pleasure in your humiliation. Right now I have the urge to kick off my shoes, roll up my trousers and sit on the bridge with my hands resting above me on the wooden rails, toes in the water as I did when I was a child. Perhaps those fish will come and nibble my toes once more and transport me back to days when life within the mind of this child was preferable to the real thing. Maybe I'll sit it out here, choosing to await news of the family anger and undoubted splits that will occur like grain splits in a severed oak. Rebellion rests uneasily within my heart, and you know, deep down, I know my father would not approve.
.
.
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Written July 10th 2010
Photograph taken on July 3rd 2010 in the grounds of Scotney Castle, Kent, England.
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Nikon D700 85mm 1/50s f/8.0 iso200
Nikkor AF 85mm f/1.8D. UV filter. MetaGPS geotag
Latitude: N 51d 5m 27.44s
Longitude: E 0d 24m 36.92s
Altitude: 0m
RECOLLECTIONS OF OLD HOBART
THE POST OFFICE BLOCK. (By G. W. Rex.)
Noticing at different times accounts of old Hobart, the writer thought it might be interesting to put down from his own recollections and from mention in publications of early days some account of the buildings in the block at the corner of which the Post Office now stands, their occupants, and their history. The writer may claim to have had a particularly large intimate connection with this part of Hobart, since his business hours have been spent in it for the last 54 years, from January, 1857, down to the present time. But his first acquaintance with it dates even further back than that, and man's allotted span of three score years and ten has passed since he was taken, very young indeed, to the house of Mrs. Seal, which in the forties stood, as is mentioned below, where "The Mercury" office is now built. This is, of course, one of the oldest parts of Hobart, though not the very oldest. In a plan made in 1811, seven years after the settlement, the streets bounding it are shown with their present names. Collins-street is, of course, named after Colonel David Collins, Lieut.-Governor from 1804 till his death in-1810. Macquarie-street was so named by Governor Macquarie, after himself. Elizabeth-street was called after his wife and Argyle-street after his native county of that name in Scotland. It would be desirable, by the way, if someone did for Tasmania what has been done for South Australia, and gave us the origin as far as can be ascertainable of our place names. It may be anticipated, however, that it would be something of a labour of love, and that the circulation of the work would not be large. The first Government House stood opposite the Commercial Bank, and the ball-room on the other side of this block, about where the entrance to the Town-hall is now. This was built of wood, the timber being cut by nine Government sawyers employed by Collins from the trees which in those days grew thick and tall along the Hobart Rivulet. Elizabeth-street terminated at Macquarie-street, and when old Government House was pulled down the street was extended to the wharf. It is said that the first private house in Hobart was a hut built by Lieut. Lord, a little higher up, near where Macquarie House now stands. Coming down to a somewhat later date, there stood in the forties on the site now occupied by the General Post Office the residence of David Lord, father of the late John and James Lord, but a distinct family from that ot Lieutenant Lord. The house had a neat flower garden in front, where Mrs. Lord was often to be seen in the morning watering her garden. After her death the house was occupied by Mr. John Lord and his family. Next door to Mr. Lord's, where "The Mercury" office now stands was the residence of Mr. Charles Seal, merchant and shipowner. His son, the late Matthew Seal, was chairman of the Fisheries Board, and died at the Great Lake while on a salmon fishing trip. The house was afterwards occupied by Mr. George Burn, auctioneer, and others. Adjoining this is the old "Mercury" printing establishment, still in the possession of Messrs. Davies Bros. Limited, and used as a store, etc. On this spot, in very early days, the business of the Bank of Australasia was started, and the word "Bank." in gold letters, is still visible over the blocked-up old-entrance. Later on it was used as the residence of Mr. John Moore, printer, and then as a boarding-house kept by a family of the name of Jones. At the back of this was a yard, abutting on which were the "Herald" and the ''Guardian" printing office, and a tinsmith's workshop. In June, 1854, the late Mr. John Davies, M.H.A., purchased the printing office, and the newspaper, and altered the latter's name to ''The Mercury," which it has borne ever since. About 1852 three shops were built in the front, and occupied by Mr. R. J. Edwards, tobacconist (who previously had a shop in Liverpool street, and was burnt out by the large fire which raged between Wellington Bridge and Messrs. Brownell Bros.), Mr. Ellis Williams, tinsmith, and Mr. W. Hissey, a taxidermist and hairdresser. At the corner of Argyle and Macquarie streets in the building now known as Norman's Coffee Palace, but then called Ingloehall, after Mr. Ingle, who at one time owned a large portion of this square, a school, the nucleus of the present Hutchins School, was conducted by the Rev.J. R. Buck land, who afterwards became head master of Hutchins School. Before this the building had been occupied by Messrs. R. Lewis and Sons as a drapery establishment. Like most of the very old buildings, it stands a little back from the street, and is probably one of the oldest buildings still standing in this block. A little later Mr. W. Robertson, who had previously had a draper's shop in Elizabeth-street, where Mr. Cumming's shop now is, moved to this house, out he afterwards went to Victoria, and settled at Colac. The writer remembers two Norfolk Island pines which grew in front of Ingle-hall, being taken up and replanted in front of St. Andrew's Church, Bathurst-street, where they are still growing. Turning to Argyle-street, the first place was an oil and colour warehouse occupied by Mr. O. H. Hedberg. Mr. Hedberg, who was a Swede by birth, and a man of great strength and energy, was also superintendent of the Fire Brigade, and the Tasmanian Fire Insurance Company's manual fire engine was kept on his premises. The buildings next to these were occupied by Mr. James Burdon, coach-builder. They are still used for the same purpose, being occupied by Vout, Chisholm, and Co. The place at the corner of Argyle and Collins streets was occupied by Mr. Alex. Gellie, merchant and corn-dealer. Later on Mr. Guillois, a Frenchman, carried on the mattress-making business on these premises, and at his death Mr. Mangan, who still carries it on, took over the business. In part of the same premises in Collins-street Mr. R. Sawyer had a boot and shoe establishment. This part of the town was then something of an educational centre, for the next place up Collins-Street was a children's school, kept by Mrs. Metheringham. Next to her Mr. Alex. Fraser, who was also superintendent of the Melville street Wesleyan Sunday school, carried on business as a coach builder. Later on he went to Melbourne, and finally became Minister for Lands and Works in Victoria. His business here was taken over by Mr. J. McPherson, but later on the place was bought by Mr. G. S. Crouch, who carried on the business of an auctioneer there. The building next to this has had a very varied history. In those days it was used as auctioneering premises, and as such occupied by Messrs. Lowes and Macmichael, then by Mr. T. Y. Lowes, and then by Messrs. Brent and Westbrook. After this Mr. Daniel Graham carried on business there as a grocer and tea dealer. When he retired the place was renovated, and turned into a dancing saloon, called "the Polytechnic." It then reverted for a time to auctioneering uses under Mr. Thomas Westbrook and finally became the office of the "Tasmanian News." Where the building now occupied by Mr. Nettlefold stands there was in those days a gable ended building. To this Messrs. Ferguson and Co. at a later date built a front and carried on a wine and spirit business there. Before long building and front alike will probably be things of the past. On the corner where tho A.M.P. Society's buildings now stand were the stores of Messrs. L. Stevenson and Sons, drapery importers (in whose office Sir Philip Fysh and his brother were accountants), and occupied the place. Later on they moved to where Tattersalls now stands. Horwitz and Marks then occupied it, and Mr. J. G. Parker succeeded them on the corner. His business was that of a general importer, and there was also a bark mill near by. The building was a very old one, and, stood back a few yards from the footpath ; finally the A.M.P. Society bought it, and erected their present premises. Next door, in Elizabeth-street, was a small tailor's shop, occupied by a Mr. Capurn, who hailed from Lincolnshire. After him it was occupied successively by John Dean (baker and store), Messrs. Boyle Robertson Patey (agent), Robin Hood (picture-frame maker), and W. Le grand (old book-dealer), and finally became a tea-room. The place next-door was an upholstery and cabinet warehouse, occupied by Mr. Leonard Pear| son. After his death Mr. Henry Hopkins; jun. (son of Henry Hopkins, who built Westella, and is said to have been the first to export Tasmanian wool) carried on business as a machinery importer there. The place was afterwards purchased by Mr. James Robb, saddler, who still occupies it. Next door to this Mr. M. Fitzgerald had a tailoring business which afterwards passed to Mr. Henry Cook. and is still carried on by his son. It is interesting to notice that on this spot there stood, in still earlier days according to J. H. Walker's Early Tasmania, the Derwent Hotel, which was in its time the best inn in the town, and was kept by Mr. William Thomas Stocker, who was appointed by Lieut.-Governor Collins captain of the night watch soon after the first settlement of Hobart. Down Lord's Lane (now known as Cook's Lane) was a third-class educational establishment, a select academy and boarding-school for young gentlemen, conducted by Mr. Henry Wolff, the father of Mrs. George Levy, who is still a resident of Hobart. In addition to this, there were in the lane buildings occupied by Mr. C. E. Wilmot (registrar of births), Mr. J. Gill (solicitor, father of the late Mr. J. W. Gill), and other tenements and stables At the corner of Lord's Lane facing Elizabeth-street, stood Mrs. Gilford's choice silk, satin, and drapery establishment. Later on, Mr. McGregor used this as an office, and ultimately it, together with Lord's corner with which we began our catalogue, was bought as a site for the now Post Office. This fine building, which now adorns the city, is of course of very recent origin, the foundation stone having been laid on July 6, 1901, by our present King, George V., then Duke of York.
NLA Reference trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/10070110
A wonderful collection designed by Katarina Roccella for Art Gallery Fabrics. The colors are so unusual and amazing at the same time!
At the beginning of the year I started to make something with these pretties and I hope that soon I will have opportunity to finish it.
Uncle Walters recollections and photographs (See rest of set for more info)
This is the Tiergarten. It was here they used to have a big black market. Did I tell you about that Russian officer I picked up? I was in the Russian Zone, this was when you could go into the Russian Zone. I can’t remember what I was doing there, but I was on me way out, by myself. And this Russian flagged me down like. He was quite a decent sort of bloke, I think he might have been in the airforce. I stopped and he said “Alexanderplaatz”, it was in the Russian Sector, near where Checkpoint Charlie was later on. I picked him up and I was driving down there, and I didn’t know where the bloody hell I was going! I was a bit lost! Anyway I was driving down and there was this big notice up, on the side of a building. I couldn’t understand it, it was in Russian! He says “Ahh! Alexanderplaatz, that way.” So I carried on down, and we came to another one, “Alexanderplaatz!” So we got to Alexanderplaatz, and I knew where we was from then. Then he said “Brandenburg Gate?” So I says “Oh yeah, righto.” We was driving down there, and it was quite nice. We were sort of talking. The little bit of German that I knew, plus a little English he knew, it was going well! “Hey Tommee, Churchill, very good!” So I said “Stalin, very good!” “Tommee, very good!” So we were shaking hands and all that. When I got to the Brandenburg Gate, he got out, and that was where he was going, the black market!
Did you need passes to get into the different zones then?
No, we just drove into the zones. I did go into the American Zone, but I didn’t have much to do with the French Zone, and we used to do quite a bit in the Russian Zone, until things started going wrong.
This one job we had, we had to go to Spandau railhead, and these wagon loads of potatoes come in. And these German
civilians, they just loaded the potatoes in the back of our wagons with shovels, so they were all loose, and we’d pile them up. And then we used to go in convoy, probably about four or five of us, with a corporal in charge. When we’d go round a corner potatoes would fall off the back of the wagons, and these kids out there, they were picking the potatoes up! They got it so that they had a stick you see, and as we went past they used it to knock the potatoes off! It was dangerous, but I don’t think anybody got hurt.
The thing was, we used to take them all over the place, and this one place was in the Russian Zone, a depot of some kind. We just drove into a yard, and tipped the potatoes out and off we went. But there was one convoy went, with a corporal in charge, and the corporal got out and went to find out where they’d got to go. Of course the kids were helping themselves to these potatoes, and when the wagons did drive in, and tip their loads, the Russians closed the bloody gates, locked them, and wouldn’t let them out! They said they were selling their potatoes to the Germans. So they were stuck there for two or three days. Course when they got out the corporal was on a charge, but he wasn’t selling them at all. The Russians were like that.
There was another one. It was somewhere around about the Brandenburg Gate, and he was driving into the Russian Zone, and a Russian soldier stopped him. They used to carry machine guns, and obviously he stopped. They made him get out, and when he got out they got in and drove the bloody thing off! That’s the sort of things they used to do! This was when it started to turn sour, then of course they stopped us from going in the Russian Sector, but before that we used to drive straight through there.
“The human brain is like a railroad freight car -- guaranteed to have a certain capacity but often running empty.”
Recollections of a Visit to Leningrad, 1965. Oil on canvas (1922-1993) Private collection. Crocker Art Museum
1909 postmarked postcard view of Main Street in Milford, Indiana. The photographer was standing on the southeast corner at Emeline Street. He was looking northwest across that intersection. Several women and young girls were posing for the camera in the foreground while many other people had gathered in the background to celebrate a holiday or special event. Stands were set up along the street and several American flags were on display. Several businesses are identifiable in this scene.
For example, the brick building at the left edge of this scene was on the northwest corner at the Emeline Street intersection. The windows advertised B. C. STILWELL GENERAL MERCHANDISE. The MILFORD DRUG CO. store was located next door. The awning advertised DRUGS and JEWELRY. A sign on the front of the building advertised HINDO TOBACCO HABIT CURE. Free samples were available. The business north of the drugstore was a RESTAURANT. These business types are consistent with the information presented in the 1910 Sanborn™ fire insurance map set for Milford. That map set also shows a bank north of the restaurant, but that is not evident in this postcard scene.
The awnings north of the bank advertised a RESTAURANT and a DRY GOODS store, respectively. The 1910 map set shows a general store north of that restaurant, but that store also occupied the next building north, the building with the two bay windows. According to that map set, the next building north (with the small second-floor balcony) was the Milford Hotel. Another general store occupied the building north of the hotel. The small two-story wood frame building at the right edge of this scene was on the southwest corner at Catherine Street. It was vacant when the 1910 map set was being prepared.
From a private collection.
Selected close-up sections of this postcard can be seen here, from left to right in the image.
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I have produced a print based on this postcard. Here's a link to an image of the print.
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Copyright 2005-2013 by Hoosier Recollections. All rights reserved. This image is part of a creative package that includes the associated text, geodata and/or other information. Neither this package in its entirety nor any of the individual components may be downloaded, transmitted or reproduced without the prior written permission of Hoosier Recollections.
c1910 postcard view of a Public Comfort Station in Indianapolis, Indiana. The station was constructed in 1910. It was located in the middle of Kentucky Avenue southwest of the intersection at Washington and Illinois Streets. The facilities were located below the street. This view was looking southwest along Kentucky Avenue.
“It is estimated that nearly 2,000 persons made an inspection of the Indianapolis public comfort station on the opening day, July 19…. The station, completed, cost approximately $17,000. Stilwell & Co., of Lafayette, contractors, had the contract. An appropriation of $20 000 was made for the completion of the work. The station will be in the charge of two men and two women from 7:30 o’clock in the morning until 11:30 o’clock at night.”¹
Several business signs were visible in the background. The GEILE sign near the left edge of the postcard advertised Frederick J. Geile’s tailoring business. The 1909 R. L. Polk Indianapolis directory listed the business at 11 Kentucky Avenue. The 1914/1915 Sanborn™ map set for Indianapolis showed the Geile shop next to the foyer (13-15 Kentucky Avenue) of the Family Theatre. Both the map set and the 1909 directory gave the theatre’s address as 17 Kentucky Avenue instead of the foyer address where the marquee was located. The HAT SHOP sign was located on the side of the theatre building. The 1909 directory listed the John H. DeLury HAT SHOP at 13 Kentucky Avenue. Maybe the shop was in the theatre foyer. The Family Theatre opened in 1908 and advertised VAUDEVILLE. This later became the Rialto Theater.
Next door to the theatre, the map set shows a restaurant (21 Kentucky Avenue) and a saloon (23 Kentucky Avenue). City directories for 1905 and 1909 listed Fred W. Kolb at 21 Kentucky Avenue under the “SALOONS” category. Both directories list the Dewald & Wahl plumbing business at 23 Kentucky Avenue.
The church spires above the theatre belonged St. John’s Roman Catholic Church at 127 South Capitol Avenue.
The billboard near the upper right-hand corner advertised E-C OATS. This was a product of the Battle Creek Breakfast Food Company (of Quincy, Illinois) until 1910 when the corporate name changed to United Cereal Mills, Ltd.
The 1914/1915 map set showed five saloons on the northwest side of the first block of Kentucky Avenue. One of them in this scene advertised BEER on the awning and had the name JOHN ______ SALOON painted on the side of the building (20 Kentucky Avenue). John Wellacher was listed in the 1905 and 1909 directories as the owner of a saloon at that address. Across the alley to the north was a BAR sign. This bar extended from this location up to Washington Street and had two addresses, 12 Kentucky Avenue and 115 West Washington Street. The 2 X 4 BAR was next door at 8 Kentucky Avenue. Neither of these two bars was listed in either directory.
1. ”Sewage and Reuse,” Municipal Engineering Index, July-December, 1910, volume XXXIX (Indianapolis and New York: Municipal Engineering Company, 1911), page 134. Available online at archive.org/stream/watersewageworks39chic#page/n5/mode/2up.
From the collection of Tom Hohman.
Selected close-up sections of this postcard can be seen here, from left to right in the image.
www.flickr.com/photos/hoosier_recollections/5741780846/in...
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Copyright 2008-2014 by Hoosier Recollections. All rights reserved. This image is part of a creative package that includes the associated text, geodata and/or other information. Neither this package in its entirety nor any of the individual components may be downloaded, transmitted or reproduced without the prior written permission of Hoosier Recollections.