I was looking through a collection of old, black and white family photos that my grandma has under her bed. I recognise the faces in some of them, but a lot of the subjects are unfamiliar to me, and there are no names on the back to help me out either. Some of them have an eerie quality about them, and they remind me of the old practice of post-mortem photography. You know, the tradition from the nineteenth century where families would take pictures of their loved ones shortly after death. For all I know this is the case here.
My aunt – my grandma’s daughter – is in all likelihood, the only person left who may have been able to help with their identities, but I showed them to her and she doesn’t know either… meaning the trail is cold and who these people are has possibly been lost to time forever.
I’m going to keep the pictures. Maybe I will be able to piece the puzzle together someday. To what end I don’t know, but I would hate to throw out history, and I am a sentimental shit when it comes to things like that.