Old photos of anonymous people, especially children, blow my mind in this way. A 19th century picture of a yard full of schoolchildren, and the twenty-year-old teacher, all dead now. It especially freaks me out when such a picture features expressions other than the standard solemn one… kids laughing at a joke or mugging for the camera a hundred and ten years ago, for some reason to me are *really * haunting images. Probably because the vibrant children in the pictures are now all dead, entire lives behind them. And I also try to imagine the pictures in color.
Sometimes I think about that when enjoying a nice afternoon with friends: “This is all history. Reality is the same as it was 100 years ago. In the future, we are all dead.”
So, DMark, either you’re not weird and morbid, or there are a whole lot of other Dopers who are.
All those moments will be lost in time.
Like tears in rain.
Ever watch any of the colour movie reels of WWII? Yeah, sometimes, the very next moment was the last for someone who had just appeared in the frame. Being in colour somehow makes it seem more real.
I often find myself imagining what they were thinking and feeling when I view old photos and films. Were they happy? Did they love someone? What was worrying them? Quite frankly, I think that’s more normal than having no curiousity at all about them.
Maybe it’s somehow morbid, but it happens to me too. Also when I watch an old movie, say from the 30’s. I can also think, if they feature a little girl : “this kid is now an old woman”.
I sometimes think about the reverse : I look at a kid and think that someday he will be a grown man, and then an elderly man lying on some hospital bed, close to his death. We want so much to take care of them, keep them happy,…but they’ll be “dust in the wind”.
I also often have thoughts similar to ** gatopescado ** : all these memories which are forever gone sadden me : kid games, love stories, worries, fun anecdotes…everything has been erased. It’s like a whole world was dissapearing each time someone dies. I sometimes would like that everybody keep a diary…
The only photos that ever creeped me out were the ones Nicole Kidman looked at in The Others, wherein the photographed people were captured on film (?) after they were dead.
My mom’s grandparents’ wedding photos, on the other hand, are a riot. Her dad’s parents look oh so miserable and serious, while her mom’s parents are the opposite: She has a tiny smile and he has his hand on her knee. Whoooo!
I think it’s fascinating that photos (and other forms of ‘recording’ a person) kind of enable these sorts of feelings. Being able to look on a person trapped in time and know that they’re dead, or even just that they are no longer that person, but to still be able to see (or hear) that person, is so bizzare.
They don’t have to be. We folks in the “history business” love collections of stories like what you’re describing. If you would write them down, and donate them along with a handful of photographs to your local historical society, historians in the future shall rise up to call you blessed.
We’re currently experiencing a dearth of such items. Folks don’t keep diaries as much as they used to, and it seems like people think that a historical society wouldn’t be interested in modern items, so, in my museum, the end result is that we don’t have many diaries or family memoirs which post-date the 1970s.
Your dad didn’t have to have an adventurous or exciting life to be of interest: often times, it’s in the mundane, everyday stories that we learn the most about the past and the people who lived during that time. Hell, I can spend hours poring datebooks and ledgers, gleaning tiny clues about the people who owned them. (It really is like piecing together a giant jigsaw puzzle). I’m ecstatic when I find an item like personal recollections or family stories in written form.
When I watch old movies - I wonder about the people in the films that I don’t recognize. Sometimes I even go on IMDB.com to find out more about the cast, and find that some of these people never did another film and died in 1962, but others are still alive in their 70s and 80s and have appeared in recent films or shows - usually as bit players.
I don’t know if thats morbid, though people turn out to be dead more often than not (especially from films before 1950).
I’m the one shading his eyes from the sun in the back row. The guys on each sides and I were “best friends.” The one to my right is still alive. The one on the left comitted suicide in 1942.
I had a terrific crush on the 3rd girl from the left in the back row. I couldn’t stand the girl on her right all through school including high school and we now are great friends.
This is why Mr. Rilch and I save magazines. Someone once looked at all our (numbered and catalogued) magazine boxes and asked why we do that. Said I, “Because it’s not always going to be 1995.”
I like looking back at a week’s worth of news from years earlier. Ofteh, the big story turned out to be of little consequence in the long run, while a half-page article documented something that was going to bring major changes. Ads are a good way to gauge how society ebbs and flows, too.
And as far as dead people, the week Reagan died, I was at the local library, in their used-books-and-magazines section. Among the discarded Peoples and Reader’s Digests was a retrospective issue of Newsweek, looking back at 1980. So I got to read tidbits about Reagan’s campaign that hadn’t been brought up in the memorializing. The B-2 bomber was a new development that year, too. And does anyone remember Rosie Ruiz? I was also surprised to see that John Lennon was only mentioned as part of the parade of people-who-died. If that happened nowadays, he would get a two-page spread. For that matter, more space would have been devoted to the President-elect.
What is really sad…the old photos of relatives that everybody has forgotten. My parents have a huge collection of B+W photos from the 1930’s to the 1960’s…and a fair number of the people in them are long gone. I was just looking at some old family photos, and saw my dog (Lucky)…he shuffled off his mortal coil ca. 1966. Of course, given the fact that the universe is infinite, and given enough time, at some point everybody will be around again.
of course, they will have no mememory of their previous existance!
I think about the same thing sometimes. But get this. My MIL has a picture of her grandson, daughter, and son. They’re all dead – motorcycle wreck, alcoholism and suicide.
I am the same way also.
What gets me more though is to touch things they touched.
When LilMiss and I went to South Dakota we went through the 1880’s Town, and it kinda made me tear up walking through homes, offices, etc where people lived. Knowing that lives went on in these buildings.
Yeah, I am this way too. And I feel the same way about the Bonanza lead in realizing how three out of the four are dead. But I’m a Bonanza freak so ignore me.
What really gets to me is ghost towns. Not ghost towns like Jerome, AZ so much (it’s the most POPULATED ghost town in America!) but real honest to goodness ghost towns. When my dad was alive, and he and my mom were living in Prescott, they’d go off roading a lot - he loved it - and he was always coming across abandonded towns and such which he couldn’t wait to show me when I’d come visit. Same with old mines - he just loved the old mine camps. But it was strange walking through an empty building thinking about how someone made their LIFE there years ago - the dreams they had - wondering what happened to them. Why the town died. Stuff like that. Sniffle - I miss those trips.
Ah, that’s such a beautiful song. I love it. It makes my friend Xue cry every time she hears it.
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It’s hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun don’-go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
