A Brief Moment In Time: Washington D.C. 1975

By Craig: The other day I was going through some boxes in the attic when I happened to find one that contained numerous boxes of old slides and photographs. The slides were in their original boxes and I was intrigued as to what might be on them. A few of the boxes were labeled but most of them were unmarked. Turning on the bright overhead light in my library I held each of them up so that I could see what was on them. I was immediately taken back in time. The images on the slides were taken by my father from the mid 1960s up until the early 1980s. Some of the images were taken before I was born, but most of them were from my early childhood in the early to mid 70s. I was immediately captivated by a series from a trip that we took to Washington D.C. in April of 1975. I was 6 years old at the time but have fond memories of this trip which I previously wrote about in a post a few years back.

Lincoln Memorial 1975

     I had the slides converted with the help of my brother Jay's wife, Tina. As I was going through them one of them caught my attention. I don't know why, but I kept being drawn back to it. It is an image of the Lincoln Memorial. It sits there in all its marble glory, its stairs sprinkled with people dressed in a fashion that today's society would consider alien. It is a brief moment captured in time and hidden in a box for nearly two generations. There is something about the image that captivates my senses. It might have something to do with bright sky that illuminates the scene, almost hidden by the gargantuan monument, or the black recess of the inner chamber which looms menacingly in the center of the photograph. It is dark and mysterious, and the people climb the steps toward it as if they were about to enter into the unknown. And what of the people? Who are they? Where are they from? Where are they now?

Craig & Jay Washington 1975

    About halfway up the first flight of stairs ascends a solitary dreamer. He is wearing a white shirt and a white hat and has sloppily thrown his coat over his right shoulder. He takes it all in. There is something white in his back pocket...a tour guide perhaps? A lady dressed in yellow reminding me of a sunflower stands with her pocket book slung over her shoulder. Her arms are both up, and hidden as if she might be holding something up to her face. Is it a camera? Is there perhaps another image out there sitting in a dusty album, forgotten in a closet that captures the same instant in time from a different angle! In front of the sunflower lady is another woman dressed in sea blue who seems to be running in quick step as if she cannot wait to enter the black hole that awaits her in a few more steps. Why is she in such a hurry? Perhaps she is only in Washington for the day and wants to see more than just the Lincoln Memorial. Now gaze downward to the left and you can see a middle age couple locked arm in arm. The bald man with ear to ear carpet is helping his plump wife who seems to be struggling with the stairs. What might he be thinking as she clings on to him for dear life? Three lazy men sit at the base of one of the massive Doric columns. One of them has his hand up to his mouth as if he were smoking a Lucky Strike. Lucky Strike man seems to be in a heated conversation with a man wearing a red shirt. It is a long lost and forgotten, unimportant conversation that none of the parties involved would ever remember. It might have gone something like this:

Lucky Strike Man: "So you think the Oakland A's will win the World Series again this year?"

Red Shirt Man: "Naw, Hell no! I'd say Pete Rose and his boys will take it."

Lucky Strike Man: "You're crazy! Rose is washed up!"

Whatever the conversation was about along with the identity of the three men and anyone else in the image will never be known. The faces of the people are mere blurs. None of them exist anymore. At least in the form that they took when this image was captured. At least half of them have almost certainly given up their mortal cares and passed into oblivion. The ones who remain alive on this distant day in the future in no way resemble the human creatures that they once were. 40 Springs have now passed... At one point in their lives all of them converged at this singular place, and then quickly separated never to merge again. They lived their lives not knowing that they ever did merge together, or that 4 decades in the future someone would be writing about their dim and shadowy figures on the steps of a monument that will one day crumble to dust as did the Greek and Roman temples of yore.

    
       I take one last look at the image and notice 4 people standing in front of one of the marble columns. It is as if they are posing for a photograph from a distant photographer. A woman in a beige coloured leisure suit with three young boys. One of the boys is holding his mother's hand...I smile.