By Louie Ferrera

Some cliches are just plain silly: A watched pot never boils, The bigger they are, the harder they fall. The list goes on. However, sometimes a cliche is spot on, like this one: A picture speaks a thousand words.

Since the invention of photography in the mid 1800’s, photographs have been instrumental in helping tell the human story. The stark black and white images of Dorothea Lang showed the human toll of the Dust Bowl in the 1930’s. The visceral image of that small Vietnamese girl, her body naked and burned, her face contorted in pain as she flees a napalm attack by US planes helped to turn public opinion against the Vietnam War in 1968. Apollo astronaut Jim Lovell’s  dramatic photo of Earthrise from the Moon showed us just how fragile and precious our blue planet is. I could go on and on, my point being that one glimpse of a photograph can instantly evoke intense emotions and have a profound effect on the viewer.

There’s a 3×5 photo of our son that sits on a dresser in our bedroom. I look at this photo every day and it never fails make my heart burst with love. I remember where we were when the photo was taken, who we were with, how old our son was, the time of year…everything. One look at this photo and I’m right back there behind the camera. During the wildfires of 2017, this was one of the objects that I chose to take while we were evacuating our home. Do you haver a photo like this? An image that not only evokes deep feelings but also takes you on a journey down memory lane? A nostalgia trip like this is often fun but it can also release a torrent of feelings that you may not have been ready to experience. 

My dear friend Kimmy passed away a month and a half ago and I’m still grieving over her sudden and senseless death. Last weekend Carol and I got together with a small group of friends, our mutual love for Kim being the common thread that runs through us all. They had just returned from Sacramento (where Kim lived) with a large box of…photographs.

It was a Sunday morning. The friend’s house where we gathered sits in the middle of a redwood forest at the end of a winding and barely paved road. The first rain of the season was falling, the trees and plants were shining and grateful, having finally been cleansed of months of accumulated dust and grime. The rain made quiet music on the roof as we took a collective trip down the memory lane of our lives with Kimmy.

Many of these photos were from a period of roughly 15 years when  Kimmy and I were closest and spent the most time together. The coffee table that we sat around was covered with a hundred or so photos, nearly half of them I was either in or remembered having taken: Me and Kim hugging, me and Kim  laughing, me and Kim skinny dipping in a lake after High Sierra Music Festival, me and Kim slamming shots of tequila, me and Kim  flashing those deep smiles you get when you’re spending time with someone you love. These weren’t just photographs, these are what’s left of the beautiful and joyous times that Kimmy and I shared. There will be no more. While looking at these photos, all of those moments came vividly alive again in my mind’s eye. It was like Kimmy was coming alive right then and there. I ‘d nearly forgotten how very close she and I had been. This was a deeply emotional experience for me and for my friends too. We hugged and laughed and cried. The rain fell, the trees shined. We each took a few photos but decided to keep most of them together so we could look at them again the next time we gathered. I was overwhelmed with sadness but filled with gratitude too. My friends had saved these priceless mementos which most surely would have otherwise ended up in the trash. Through the magic of these photographs is one way that Kimmy will always live on for me.

Have you seen Concert For George? It’s a film of the all star tribute concert that was put on in London to honor George Harrison after his passing. The most poignant moment in the film for me is when Ringo Starr steps to the front of the stage to sing “Photograph”, a song co-written by Ringo and George. Here comes Ringo, close cropped hair, dark glasses, grinning from ear to ear and flashing his trademark peace signs. The band kicks the song off, Ringo grabs the mic and begins to sing:

Every time I see your face it reminds me of the places we used to go. Now all I’ve got is a photograph and I realize you’re not coming back any more.

Amen.