People think that being a member of the found film in crowd is glamorous. Life is filled with wonderful discoveries, groupies
and exotic cameras. I assure you it’s not.
It’s dark down there and ancient film never behaves itself. It uncoils like a rattlesnake or falls apart like a Wal Mart suit. Reels fall on the floor and roll across the pitch black room.
Even after you manage to coax a fifty year old roll of Plenachrome onto a processing reel you are reminded that most of the time your efforts will amount to nothing.
A previous owner opened the camera or somebody simply rolled the film onto the takeup spool without snapping a single shot. Explosions of light streak across frames. Dark shapes haunt your Verichrome.
The Ansco Plenachrome inside this mint Baby Brownie may look harmless to you, but I know better.
This particular roll was about as pliable as ribbon candy. The Ansco Plenachrome inside this mint Baby Brownie may look harmless to you, but I know better.
This handsome Beacon II (c1947-1955) contained a roll of Verichrome. I like Verichrome. It holds up well and usually doesn’t curl too much.
This self portrait is all I got for my struggles with the Plenachrome from the Baby Brownie. The last frame on the roll.
The rest of the negatives looked like the Rorschach tests the give candidates applying for admission to hell.
“So, uh, lots of trees here.”
“Yeah, different kinds, too !”
Sometimes the images that I pull across the decades are simply boring. They frequently document an equally boring vacation or day trip filled with bored people.
If you put a coin into that contraption on the right you can see some closeups of trees.
The woman at far left is not part of the sunglasses crew. She’s worried that she’s in the photograph as she’s with her mailman.
Don’t worry lady. It’s all over now.
I like barns too.