Photo of the Week 2016-05-02

... wandering along streets in a neighbourhood of which I have no early memories. I was just a year old when my parents moved from this area and the first home I ever had. The house was a 'semi' on Hunter St. in the are of Toronto now known as Riverdale. There are no first hand recollections for me, I was too young. There are only fragments, recalled from stories told and conversations heard over the years ... to which, I now wish I had paid more attention.

A lot of years ago I visited this area with Dad when we were on our way to a downtown camera store. There are some memories of the conversation as we passed through his old neighbourhood ... not enough to satisfy the curiosity that now brews inside. Riverdale Ave., Hunter St. Withrow ... the Park, the school, Labatt Ave ... I'm trying to remember and pull together pieces of family history to go with photos that lay scattered about on my framing table. Whenever I bring out the boxes of albums and envelopes filled with pics in all sizes, of places, people and times gone by, the curiosity is stoked, as it was again recently.

So I set out one morning, in search of the past ... in a place I had little part in, but is very much a part of me ... hoping for for something, a feeling, perhaps a sense of connection and the intent to photograph what spoke to me.

back (to the) alley

I made this image of the lane behind 30 Hunter St., and imagine that my father drove my mother and I home from the hospital, down this lane, as I came home for the first time.

DJE

Photo of the Week 2016-04-11

Making new images has taken a back seat for the past couple of weeks. Oh the camera has been out and there have been a number of clicks, but there was nothing very purposeful in terms of making new images. I've been busy with some of the every day life stuff like, the day job, getting the car serviced and putting the finishing touches to a home kitchen reno that has come together nicely.

But that doesn't mean I've been completely inactive photographically ... after going to see one of my images licensed by Parks Canada at last week's BPNP Visitors Center Open House, I dropped in to the Upper Deck Gallery and while there, decided to take a different wall space with a bit more room and a corner layout. This means I'll have space for a few more prints on the wall and to set up a table and rack to display cards and unframed prints.

I've also been busy going through the family photo collection looking for pics of my aunt for an upcoming family event. Plus, every April 8th for the past several years, I've posted  something to my personal facebook page in honour of my Grandfather, Ernest James England who was killed on that day 1945 while fighting in Holland. These last two activities came together when searching for photos, I found a clipping of the original newspaper notice of his death and the photos from my father's one and only trip to Holland in 1995 for the 50th Anniversary of the end of WWII. It was during that trip that family members were fortunate enough to connect with historians who knew of my grandfather and the details relating his death.

During the later stages of the war in Northern Holland, my grandfathers reconnaissance regiment (8th Recce. 14th Hussars) was leading the advance of Canadian forces as they approached Holten. He was out on a mission clearing the area of German troops when his bren gun carrier was erroneously targeted by a tank from the Fort Garry Horse Regiment and he was killed instantly by a direct hit. Bits of this had murmured through the family over the years and not only was it confirmed during the trip to Holland, but the family were taken to the spot on a farm lane where it happened.

farm lane - note tree on far left

As I understand, the tree on the far left, with the large scar of missing bark close to the ground, is the exact spot, the tree where what remained of the bren gun carrier remained for some time. This information was obtained from the man who owned the farm back in 1945. In 1995 he still owned the farm and came out to speak with family members through the historians who acted as interpreters.

farm owner (I must get his name)

I hold what remains of my family photos. Passed down to me by my mother, there are mostly ones my father took, some date back to the early 1900's, maybe a bit more. They are treasures. Through them I am reminded to print the everyday stuff from my own photo exploits. Through them I have an extremely powerful piece of family history ...

DJE