asks us to post a black and white photo. No spot colors. No sepia. Black and white, only.
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Several years ago, an old friend from college got in touch. I will call him E.
He was a few years older than most students, having served in the military before attending college. He was a collector, even then. He worked summers in a bottling plant and confiscated bottling mistakes, such as when Orange Crush ended up in a Coke bottle.
He and his roommate (who I will call J) ---also an older student ---rented a tiny house off campus. I had dated both of them at one time or other ---never a big romance with either. E was a fellow art student. J was an English major and a great wit. (I've always chosen men with senses of humor over good looks or money. A wise choice, I think.)
I graduated from college in 1967 & saw J in 1969 at the only homecoming I attended. At that time, he was a reporter for the newspaper in my college town. In 2001, at the request of my employer to call the newspaper in that town, I asked if J still worked there. He did & had been an editor for years. He granted my request to send a reporter and photographer to cover my employer's gold-leaf application to the local courthouse cupola. J & I spent a few minutes catching up, too.
In college, E stored his "treasures" on a shelf that stretched around the perimeter of the living room, above the windows, in the house he and J shared. One weekend, J held a party while E went home for the weekend. When we ran out of beverages, we raided E's bottling mistakes. When he returned, I swear we could hear his reaction back at the campus.
In the intervening years, I ran into E once, at a huge flea market sometime in the 70's. I hadn't seen him since. But after he sent me a letter in 2011, I drove to his home to visit. He owns an old farmhouse outside of our college town. It is filled from floor to ceiling with junk ----er, rather, his "treasures" ---which he sells on eBay. So, when I took photos of his home, I referred to him as "The Junkman" in my titles.
I mentioned the incident when everyone drank his treasures. I wanted to belatedly apologize for our thoughtless actions. He had no recollection of the incident.
E called last December (2013) to tell me J had died.
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"The Junkman's Window"
February 2012
The view of a run-down out-building from
the second story of E's old farmhouse.
I bet it's filled with junk, too. |
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