From an Outtakes Box

Downers Grove, Illinois, Autumn 1963. I was shuffling through one of Dad's outtakes boxes, and I ran across this photo. I don't know why Dad didn't like it; I find it more appealing than the ones from that day he had pasted in the photo album.

Another Toast

Schweinfurt, Germany, May 1948. This snapshot from my Parents' wedding reception landed in Dad's outtakes box. It has flaws—beyond double exposure—but it captures the evening's mood.

That's my maternal Grandfather, Jake, on the right.

An Impatient Subject

Suburban Chicago, Spring 1961. My Dad snapped a lot of photos, and I used to tire of the process. The manual adjustments took time, and I was impatient to transition to another activity. This image captures me just as I am ready to end the photography session. Dad already had taken a number of photos that day; you can see them here, here, and here.

Thanking Back

Last year on Thanksgiving Day—when this blog was still quite new, and I had not yet posted many of the "way-back-when" photos—I scanned a little photo and asked my Mom why everyone in the image looked so sad. The photo, I learned that day, was taken when Mom and her Dad, Jake, were about to flee Lithuania.

I remain thankful that Mom and Jake became refugees. I'm most thankful that my Mom is vibrantly healthy—and still razor sharp—as she recounts memories from her life.

I'm thankful for my Dad—who today would have celebrated his ninetieth birthday—for treating every photo in his collection as an archival treasure.

And I'm thankful, of course, that Mom and Dad met at a party in a Displaced Persons camp, and that they married less than three months later.

So here again is a snapshot from a set I posted last spring that captures their new, young love.

Seligenstadt, Germany, February 1948. My Parents had just met.

Another Mystery Location

Location unknown; between about 1943 to 1945. My Dad tucked this photo into an envelope in which he had stored sentimental photos from the time before he married. Most of those photos capture Dad's friends and places he visited. This photo has no notes written on the back. I don't know whether this church is in Lithuania or in Germany. Can any of my readers identify it?

A View of the School

Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1939. We think—but we're not sure—that this is my Dad's high school, Aušros Gimnazija. Mom remembers that the school stood in downtown Kaunas, but she doesn't recall the structure's exact features.

Dad had stored this photo in an envelope simply marked "Lietuva"—Lithuania.

It's cold on the Atlantic Ocean in June.

Atlantic Ocean, June 1949. Today I ran across another photo of my Parents aboard the "General W.M. Black." I am happy when I find something new in my Dad's outtakes box. Dad still wears his wedding ring on his right hand.

When I think about uncertainty—or how dicey it is to make long-term plans—I consider what thoughts my Parents had as they sailed to America.

Out of Order

I chose a non-chronological order for this blog because that approach lets me freely post photos as they interest me. I select what I find quirky or touching on a particular day, and I am not burdened by structure.

Another benefit of shedding sequence is that I can insert photos as I find them. Images pop up unexpectedly: I find old photos, my Mom rediscovers envelopes, and relatives send me precious snapshots. There even are a couple of outtakes boxes that contain gems.

I also like return to earlier posts by "inserting" related photos. Recently, for example, I wrote about a wreath dance that the girls from our Lithuanian school performed at a Mother's Day "minejimas." I just ran across a couple of photos from that performance in an outtakes box.

They are perfect for Mother's Day:

Suburban Chicago, May 1965. We give a bow of thanks to our Moms.
 

*     *     *     *     *

 

 
Suburban Chicago, May 1965. After the performance, we hand out carnations to the Moms in the audience. I stand on the far right.

A Good Outtake

Here's an outtake from the day Dad shot his favorite photograph of me. I love how happy Dad looks, and I like how uncluttered the Rec Room is.

Suburban Chicago, June 1961. Dad and I take a break from the more formal picture-taking session.

Forever Young

A handful of photos reminds me how young my Parents were when they met and married. This image of the two as twenty-something honeymooners, for example, is delightful. I wept the first time I saw one fuzzy, but molten, photo-booth snapshot.

Here are the remaining photos—a short series—from that afternoon pop into the photo booth:

Seligenstadt, Germany, February 1948. My Parents saw each other exactly sixteen times before they married. Mom's hat has some fashionable netting around the forehead.

Mom remembers that life was rocky for Displaced Persons, but she underscores that DPs were buoyant and resilient. Many of the DPs viewed those years as an adventure.

Photo Booth

Here's a gem from the outtakes box:

Seligenstadt, Germany, February 1948. My Parents, not yet married, slipped into a photo booth.

This is one of my favorite photos...

… and I found it in my Dad's "outtakes box"—the collection of snapshots Dad thought weren't good enough to be pasted into the two annual albums.

Brooklyn, New York, September 17, 1950. We all know the best images live in the outtakes box.