It sits there in a box now, collecting dust like an old beat-up book. Just being near it, I can close my eyes and remember when we were one. So many stories were told through its eyes. It has seen many parts of the world, in both color and black and white. Yea, it may just sit there silent now, but my camera is the best storyteller that I know.
I remember when I first laid eyes on it. After over a month on EBay, losing bid after bid, sometimes by a mere second or a penny, I found “the one.” I would stop at no cost; that Pentax P3n was mine! It came down to the final five minutes. I was so close to having my camera! At a steal, I outbid my opponent and won my camera for $62.01. It was the longest seven days of my life waiting for the UPS truck to arrive.
And then it came! It was a Friday, and I feared I would miss the delivery since we were leaving for dinner at any moment. Just as I walked out, with my head hung low, just knowing I would now have to wait until Monday, the truck pulled up. I almost knocked the delivery man down running to get my package. I don’t even remember signing for it; the next thing that I know, all of the stuffing was on my living room floor and my beautiful “new” camera was right there in my hands. I grazed my fingers across its smooth body, every single part intact and in perfect condition. I couldn’t wait to take it out on the town and tell my stories through its eyes.
We first went to the most pure place in the United States: Alaska, “the last frontier.” Everything there was still in new, unused condition, unlike here in the Midwest. My camera helped me to capture nature, wildlife, and waterfalls yet to be named. The stories uncovered behind the lens of my camera are etched with me forever in the photos we created. We took a three hour train ride in Fairbanks, snapping many parts of history in the process such as the old goldmine cemeteries and historic steam engines of centuries past. We were able to catch water drops dripping from an elk’s fur thanks to the telescopic lens. We spent one whole month in the purity of Alaska and other western parts of the United States. By the end of that magnificent month, we returned with twenty-six rolls of film to develop, our stories to be printed as latent images fixed on paper forever.
Then my camera took me to some of the most abandoned places in my own backyard: Saint Louis. We traveled to the northern parts of the city to capture old houses with their bricks crumbled in piles and old warehouses tagged by graffiti artists. It has seen homeless people, run down parks, and abstract lines of our great city. Sometimes, it was a step back in time. I often imagined what it would be like to live in those homes in a different era; my camera took me there with every click of the shutter.
My prized possession does not work anymore but I still embrace the albums filled with stories that we have told together. They are the novels of my life, my biography, if you will. Some tales may be as clear and vivid as the wildlife in Alaska. Other times, we are left to our own interpretations, leaving us to ponder the history behind them. It may be silent now, but for many years, my camera helped me see the world in another light.
Photos: All photos taken by the author, R. Brooks
