Earl’s Court Tube Station
I have taken this very same photograph multiple times. I was looking through my contact sheets for an earlier version and realized just how much has changed over the years in terms of photography. Shoot film>Develop>Dry>Cut>Put in sleeves>Contact sheets>Edit>Enlarge>Make some postcards>Mail to 3 friends. Digital is so much easier for me now. Shoot>Download>Edit>Upload>Write post>Get great response from loads of people I have never met. I understand why some still prefer film, but for me this is so much better.
John Wilson
I’m in the UK for a few days helping my friend John Wilson do some work on his house in Chiswick. We don’t get to see each other often enough, but when we do it is always a treat. We met when we were both living in Berlin in the 1980’s and became close immediately. I have always been fascinated by his personal history. He was born in Trinidad, went to boarding school in Barbados, moved to the UK when he was 16, and has lived and worked all over the world. His family had been in the Caribbean for generations, and his father’s father was the Postmaster General of Grenada. (Charles Livingstone Wilson) Today we were in his studio and he wanted to show me a suitcase that contained some family items. (Suitcases seem to be a theme for me lately.) The name tag above is sewn on to the tennis shorts that he wore while at the Lodge School in Barbados.
The Pan American tag was on the inside of the case. It was full of family items and lots of folders, including reports to his mother and father about his progress at school.
I really like looking at old documents. There is something about the typefaces and writing in ink from a fountain pen that appeals to me.
Above is his housemaster’s comment (turquoise ink). And he still is quite the gentleman.
The comment above from the headmaster is a true reflection of the times. This is from his last term at school. / I am constantly reminded of how amazing all of my close friends are, and am so lucky to be a part of their lives.
JFK Terminal 4 again
I drove down to JFK again early this morning to pick up Cris and her co-worker Kate. As we walked out of the terminal, the sun was just coming up and the sky was wild. There is something about airports and light. / I just want to take a minute to acknowledge all of the new subscribers to this site. The suitcase project has brought many of you here, and I really appreciate your interest and comments. Thank you all so much.
Monday morning 6.15
A very interesting weekend here. Lost power here at 10 Saturday night. Cell phone towers were down too, so no email or internet. Drove Peter back to Union on Sunday afternoon, and finally got a signal at one of the Berkshire rest areas on the Pike. Amazingly, skyped Cris in Gaza from my phone and she assured me she was ok, in spite of the recent hostilities. Then saw all the email from Kickstarter backers and am just totally blown away. So many people to respond to and thank and it will take a while. Got back to a very dark house last night, stoked up the wood stove and lit some candles. Power came back on just after 6.00 this morning. / Thanks to everyone for the support and encouragement; I’ll be posting an update on Kickstarter in a bit.
Milkweed?
When I was a kid, we called this milkweed. When I googled it, this is what I found. I have always liked it, and I remember taking the pods apart and blowing the white bits into the wind. / Cris skyped from Gaza this morning. She and Kate had absolutely no trouble getting through the border crossing, got settled into their hotel, then went to the university for a few hours of work.
JFK Terminal 4
I drove Cris and a colleague to JFK last night. They will be teaching at Al Azhar University in Gaza for the next two weeks. I am a bit anxious about the whole thing, but it should be very interesting work for her. She arrived safely in Tel Aviv this morning and we’ll see if she can make it through the crossing into the strip. / I love airports, especially in the early evening.
Cornelius Krieghoff
My childhood was almost completely happy. There were very few times when I was troubled by much, but one thing that bothered me from time to time was my middle name. My sister’s is Louise, my brother’s is William and most of my friends had basic “normal” names. Carol Lee Thomas, Alan Jeffrey Radov, John Joseph Bowman Jr. (Oddly, I can’t remember Mike Hogan’s, but I am guessing it was probably Robert. In fact he might have been Robert Michael Hogan; named after his dad who was a famous University of Pittsburgh football player.) My middle name is Krieghoff. Maybe it was the proximity to the end of the second world war, but to me it just seemed weird. My mom’s maiden name was Krieghoff, and I guess she had reason to be proud enough of it to pass it along. It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I started to understand what a cool thing it was to be named after the most famous Canadian painter of the 19th Century. Read about him here.
I had known that he was buried in Chicago, and yesterday I called the Graceland Cemetery to find out exactly where. A lovely woman called Max gave me lots of information and since Cris and I are here for a couple of days I made the trek out there this morning.
It is interesting that in 1980 the trustees of Graceland paid for and erected a new stone for his site. Max walked me through the rather complicated directions to the section where he is buried (section g, resub, lot 178). Being directionally challenged, she gave me some landmark stones and once I spotted the one below, I knew I was in business.
I was told his stone was facing East, and after wandering around a bit I found it.
It is on the west side of the cemetery, just off Western Avenue.
Max had told me that he was laid to rest (what a funny phrase for being put into the ground in a wooden box) on 8 March, 1872.
Look, somebody (me) stuck a number 6 artists brush into the ground next to the stone (seemed more appropriate than flowers).
A very cool day. Something I have wanted to do for a long time. / Chicago is such a great city. Lots of amazing architecture.
PNC Park
Peter and I drove to Meadville on Wednesday so that I could be with friends for a few days. Last night we went down the 79 to Pittsburgh to catch a Bucs game. As a family, we go to ballparks whenever we get the chance and we’ve been to PNC Park quite alot. In 2002, Peter and I went to see a game and had almost the exact same seats. I was shooting with my Widelux at that time and made an image that day that I have always loved. When I shifted to digital, I stopped using that camera, but have always missed the format. So now I shoot 2 digital images and stitch them together on the computer. Pretty much the identical result. Feels a bit like cheating, but I’m not too bothered. / This is a beautiful ball park. Situated on the north shore of the river with an amazing view of downtown Pittsburgh, it just can’t be beat (unlike the Pirates who lost 15 – 5). These seats were $27.oo each, which is an incredible bargain. My only complaint is that it is almost impossible to find an Iron City Beer in the place. I had to settle for a 16 oz can of Yuengling which is arguably a better beer, but doesn’t hold the same cachet for me.
1546 Chestnut, Santa Ana, CA
John Kishel knows so much about the obscure history of Southern California. We were talking about guitars the other day and he mentioned that as a kid he would send in a coupon from Boy’s Life Magazine to the Fender Guitar Company to receive a free catalogue. The address on the coupon was 1546 Chestnut, Santa Ana, Calif. Fender guitars were made in Fullerton, but in 1958 the company opened up a sales and distribution center in Santa Ana. It is interesting to think about all the incredible guitars and amps that were shipped from this building. And it sits less than 3 miles from his house. We went out for a meal tonight and stopped by for a visit on our way home.
I like being in places where cool stuff happened. The building has something to do with Culligan water treatment now and the front entrance is obviously not in use. Love the light fixtures though. They look original to the building.
Jon Crispin's Notebook 
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