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Remembering Burma Road
Meet Mr. H.B., number 8 in my 100 Strangers Project. I met him last night at the Health Center of the retirement community where my father lives. Dad's in the health care area while recovering from surgery. I went to dinner with him last night,( at an ungodly early hour.) Dad had mentioned the 2 nice gentlemen he often ate with. And gentleman is right. Mr B. was polite, cutting his cake in neat slices with the side of his fork, explaining to Dad that this cake was specially brought in for a 90th birthday party, and he would be delighted to share his piece. Soft spoken, deliberate, gentle.I knew there had to be a story. I asked him here he was from and what he did before he retired. (state police). But it was his war service he wanted to talk about, reaching back into his distant past, the memory of which was sharpest to him.
He was in the infantry in Burma. He talked about the general and the bridge and the Chinese and the difficulties of war in that location. And his eyes lit up when he talked about the mules and the horses.
He said: They won the war for us. They are the unsung heroes. Without them, we would still be there.
Especially the mules. They're smart. They don't overeat. They don't overwork.
They only drink what they need.
I asked if I could take his picture and he was pleased. I took a few shots and put the camera away to listen more. But then he stuck this pose and I saw that skin over his fingers and raced to get my camera out of my bag again.
You know, I said to Mr. Zoom that Mr. B's family has probably heard those stories a thousand times. But they were new to me. Our vets are dying...we need to hear the stories...and in the dawn of their days, need to tell them, again, how much we appreciate their sacrifices.
Thank you, Mr. B.
Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at www.100strangers.com/
Remembering Burma Road
Meet Mr. H.B., number 8 in my 100 Strangers Project. I met him last night at the Health Center of the retirement community where my father lives. Dad's in the health care area while recovering from surgery. I went to dinner with him last night,( at an ungodly early hour.) Dad had mentioned the 2 nice gentlemen he often ate with. And gentleman is right. Mr B. was polite, cutting his cake in neat slices with the side of his fork, explaining to Dad that this cake was specially brought in for a 90th birthday party, and he would be delighted to share his piece. Soft spoken, deliberate, gentle.I knew there had to be a story. I asked him here he was from and what he did before he retired. (state police). But it was his war service he wanted to talk about, reaching back into his distant past, the memory of which was sharpest to him.
He was in the infantry in Burma. He talked about the general and the bridge and the Chinese and the difficulties of war in that location. And his eyes lit up when he talked about the mules and the horses.
He said: They won the war for us. They are the unsung heroes. Without them, we would still be there.
Especially the mules. They're smart. They don't overeat. They don't overwork.
They only drink what they need.
I asked if I could take his picture and he was pleased. I took a few shots and put the camera away to listen more. But then he stuck this pose and I saw that skin over his fingers and raced to get my camera out of my bag again.
You know, I said to Mr. Zoom that Mr. B's family has probably heard those stories a thousand times. But they were new to me. Our vets are dying...we need to hear the stories...and in the dawn of their days, need to tell them, again, how much we appreciate their sacrifices.
Thank you, Mr. B.
Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at www.100strangers.com/