Candid Discovery

My Dad was an organizer. He cataloged our photos—old and new—by year and by place. Dad devoted hours to restoring and rephotographing aging snapshots. I often sat with him in his "darkroom"—the master bedroom bath—while he reprinted the old treasures. I consequently have seen most of the photos that I post here; I rarely run across one that is new to me.

I stumbled on a new image yesterday. My Dad had a "to do" box of photos. Some of the photos were ones that relatives had sent to Dad for restoration; others were prints Dad had brought with him from Europe that appear to have been too tiny to restore expertly. Yet others look like ones Dad had planned to rephotograph shortly before he died.

Here is one of those photos. My Dad's twin sister, Jonė, sent this candid to her Mother—my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana—either when Jonė and Tatjana lived in different Displaced Persons camps or after Tatjana already had emigrated to the United States.

Jonė noted on the back of the photo that she found this image unflattering. I don't think so. The photo captures her sweet mannerism and vivid engagement.

Germany, about 1947 or 1948. Jonė walks away from a café with her Ukrainian friend, a fellow Displaced Person.