I have been steeped in history and heritage for about a week now. My mom is doing some--okay a lot--of downsizing in preparation for a move to Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, near Baby Brother and his family.
Amongst Mom’s treasures, we found a box of my dad’s old 35-mm slides spanning from 1957 when he bought his Nikon camera while in the service in Germany, to the early 1970s when he switched his film processing to 35 mm prints instead of slides. We are talking nearly 1000 slides stored away.
I know this because I have spent the better part of the last week digitizing these slides. Best Buy had this handy dandy scanner thing that captured a digital image of each slide. I now have all of them on both a memory card and on my hard drive.
But I am not done yet, no sirree Bob. Because I am an unorganized soul at heart, I didn’t start this little project with any sort of plan...I just started scanning slides. Unfortunately, I started chronologically from newest to oldest. On top of that, Dad wasn’t so very organized about how he had them grouped together and we have winter scenes in one frame and summer the next and then back to winter again and from family/friends to farm to vacations. The next step is to get them grouped into logical folders and then get each folder organized chronologically as best I can. Then get them labeled with who, what, when, and where...maybe why...before sharing with family and friends who might want to have copies of the memories.
As I was going through the slides and saw so many pictures of aunts, uncles, and cousins from a time when I wasn’t born yet, I realized I wish I had paid more attention when Dad did slide shows when I was a kid. I could pick out most of the people, but some are a complete mystery to me. Only by a process of elimination could I decide I was even close to knowing who was who in each image. Lucky for me, we have a family reunion for my dad’s family coming up in a couple of weeks, and I am going to have the memory card and a laptop with me so I can have Uncle Jerry and Aunt Linda, as well as various cousins, scroll through them for more hints on who, what, when, and where. Like this one for instance...I can figure everyone out except the one on the far left...not entirely sure who that one is.
Then there are the pictures of farming. Dad always, always, always wanted to farm. So much so that he chose to farm rather than finish high school. That lack of a diploma didn’t stop him from becoming a successful agri businessman by the time he retired. The only thing that interrupted Dad’s dedication to the farm was a stint in the army. Because my Grampa Brehmer wasn’t as thrilled as my dad about farming, Dad was afraid that Grampa might decide to sell the farm while he was serving, so he made his youngest brother, my Uncle Jerry, promise, promise, promise to help keep the farm going until Dad got out of the army. I am so very, very thankful that Uncle Jerry kept his word, and the farm was there waiting for Dad when he came home.
Once Dad was back from the army and on the farm, he started making improvements to the buildings and machinery...over time, of course, as such things were expensive even back then. Some buildings were torn down to make room for newer or bigger buildings. Silos were erected. Additions were made to other buildings. Cement was poured. New fencing was put up. I can watch progress marching on as I look through the slides. And, again, I wish I had paid more attention and asked more questions when I had the chance because now it’s too late.
As I mentioned, Dad bought this top-of-the-line Nikon camera while he was in the service in Germany. I haven’t gotten through any of those slides yet, but as I was scanning them I recognized the Eiffel Tower among other buildings and places he must have gone on furlough in Europe. Beautiful cathedrals, quaint shops, interesting people are all in there from what I could catch during the scanning. What kinds of stories Dad could have told me had I only known it was important to ask, but I didn’t. I was a young teenager when I saw those slides last. What did I care about old buildings so far away and that I would never see anyway?
Now as an adult, I realize that we have to know where we come from to know where we are going. Respect for yesterdays gives us courage for tomorrows. The regret is strong that I missed those opportunities to hear history from my Dad.
I had another opportunity to remember history this past weekend. There was a special exhibit at the Dodge County Fair in Kasson about the 9/11 attacks. In attendance were four law enforcement personnel and other emergency personnel who were in New York City during the attacks. The line was long even though we got there before the exhibit opened on Sunday morning. I was pretty much an emotional wreck before we even got into the exhibit because Captain and I, as well as the people around us in line, were remembering what that day was like. Where we were, what we heard on the news, what we felt when the enormity of the day was clear.
September 11, 2001, is my generation’s JFK or Pearl Harbor. It’s that one day where we will always remember every minute detail of the day beause it split our lives into a before and after situation. Life changed for everyone that day, and it will never again be what it was before the first plane tore into the World Trade Center.
The events of 9/11 affected everyone that you and I know, but those most affected are the family, friends, and loved ones of the heroes who died that day in order to save other people. There was a quote in the exhibit that stuck with me that said when citizens were rushing down from the upper floors of the WTC, the firefighters, police officers, and paramedics were rushing up to try and save people.
That’s courage. That’s love. That’s honor.
That needs to be remembered.
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