My father was an avid photographer. He loved to make people pose in all sorts of ridiculous and contrived settings (as well as click that stealthy photo of my mother from behind!)
He also had grandiose ideas of chronicling them into photo albums with written narration so you’d know dates and places and people and what the occasion was.
He bought several of these albums, all with the best of intentions I’m sure…..he got four pages into the first book.
Those photos are neatly pasted onto the pages and his beautiful crisp printing describes each scene.
After the forth page the pictures are wedged in between the pages in clusters with no rhyme or reason.
Some of them seem to be of the same time and place; others span decades and have no connection to one another whatsoever.
I’m left guessing what any group of photos is about. A vacation….a business trip……family…….friends…..before kids…..after children…..? I’ll never know.
I can only identify the ones I have memories of. Houses I remember, rooms I know…..relatives….
As for dating them, unless the date is printed on the edge of the picture I can only ‘guesimate’.
I suppose most family’s pictures are like this.
It’s unfortunate he didn’t do a better job of recording them, on the other hand, I find it more interesting to be able to spin my own tales around them.
Like the picture of my father and Robert Goulet………?
I can weave a pretty noteworthy whopper around them and have the photos to prove it!
So maybe my father did me a favor.