On Friday, we went down to Father and Son, a wonderful, dusty and musty second-hand store on Hargett Street. They had a basket of old black and white photographs and I went through and picked out a few. I have an idea about what to do with them; it has to do with the fact that nobody remembers the people in the pictures. Roaming around in the back, I put these two things together and made a photograph that cracks me up.
On Friday night and Saturday, we attended wedding festivities for a family who lived next door to us. The bride was born after we had been neighbors for a few years, and I remember the Christmas that she came. She married a boy from my home town, a really fine family. I remember when we were all in high school together, younger than the bride and groom.
On Monday we went downtown to the Memorial Day services at the Capitol. There were many Korean War and Vietnam War vets, and some who looked young enough to have served in the current conflicts. I didn't see anyone I thought to be in their late eighties or nineties from World War II. I walked up to many of them and asked about their service to our country. Every one of them got teary. We owe these men so much and understand so little about what they endured. A replica section of the Vietnam Memorial was there, the names tiny and way too numerous. After the downtown service, we rode over to Oakwood Cemetery where there was to be a Vietnam War memorial service. I took this photograph there.
It was a varied and important weekend, shaped by things that happened in the past and made the present richer and more meaningful.