So to that end let me share with you one of the great bright spots of my life lately. This summer I found, in my aunt's attic, an old dynamite crate full of slides and negatives that my grandfather took fifty +/- years ago, some in Nicaragua where he was working as an engineer, and some in the US.
Now let me tell you about my Grandfather. He was a right-wing, racist, homophobic good ol' boy just one sheet short of the KKK. But he was also my Granddaddy who taught me how to play chess and poker, bought me wonderful trinkets at junk shops, and put plastic flies on our grits to make us laugh. I might hate some of the things he believed, but I could never hate him.
And for a right-wing racist homophobe he took some stunning pictures full of love, beauty, and humor. By which I mean to say we are all complex, full of good and bad, and forgetting that makes everyone poorer, makes the whole world a sadder harder place. So enjoy the pictures and the strange and beautiful conundrum of the man who took them.
|Women on the road, Nicaragua 1958|
|Rodeo levade, Nicaragua 1958|
|Diver at the water hole, Nicaragua 1958|
|Diver, Gran Hotel, Nicaragua 1959|
|Cousin in a mask, North Carolina 1960s|