The Dark Room

With our smart phones, tablets, dash board cameras and other digital devices, we all have the ability to visually record anything that strikes our fancy. I heard a guy say on TV the other nite that between SD chips and various hard drives he estimated that he had 50000 pictures, give or take. Bear with me and we'll go back to how it was back in the day.

My sibs, Willis and Ardath were intrigued by photography when they were young and had many hours free time at their disposal on the light, Willis converted the closet in his bedroom to a darkroom so they could develop their own pictures.

I can see the closet now, as it was when Carolyn and me were on the light in 1960. The last time I was in it was the day the Guptil's arrived to take over. The walls and ceiling was painted departmental buff, the bench that Willis had built was still in it's place on the northeast wall and the shelves for supplies was on the northwest wall, on one's left as you passed through the door and the hanger for the kerosene lantern with it's red globe was still in place.

I stood for a moment, my arms full of our clothes, my mind going back to the days gone by when as a child I was permitted to watch magic being made in that  closet, by the eerie light of the battered lantern. I gently closed the door, knowing well that I would never see the Dark Room again.  But memories still live on, kept alive in part by some of the black and white images, reproduced in the archives of this web-site. Many of these pics were taken by Ardie and Willis with their twin 120 box cameras. These cameras could be purchased at T. Eaton in those times for about $3.95.

War was looming in Europe, and in 1938 my big bro felt the call of the north country, and left the island for the goldfields of Ontario. He soon obtained work, at the MacIntyre Mine I believe,  and shortly after there came a package in the mail addressed to Ardie and I, which, when opened revealed two brand new Kodak Brownie 620 box cameras and a note of admonition from Willis to keep up the good work; don't let the dark room get lonely. At the time he bought the Brownies he also treated himself to a German made Rolleicord 620, with dual reflex focus and an integral flash shoe. A work of high technology for the time.

The war came, to our back door as it were, and Ardie took her Brownie Kodak 620 and hit the trail for Halifax, where she was fortunate to find a job with Maritime Photo Engravers. I remember her taking Dad and me   on a tour of her studio, which was in the old Herald building on Argyle St. Her studio was just across the hall from the rooms of the redoubtable cartoonist, Bob Chambers, who portrayed the ' Little Man ' so well. No colour film in those days, and she did a lot of tinting in oils for vartous clients while employed with them. Hanging in the trailer is one she gave me of the picture that she took of the light from across the pond ( which can be more likened to a puddle today ) she tinted this with oils, about circa 1945.

She was delighted to show off all the equipment that she used on a daily basis, but I think her favourite was the big old enlarger, and I remember her saying that her and Willis often used to dream of owning one for their photography endeavors.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
Our trip to the Argyle St. studio was in August 1945, when Dad took me to Halifax to go through U190, tied up at pier 21. We stayed with Uncle John and Aunt Florence, who lived at 151B Walnut St. at the time. Sometimes when I' m driving out Quinpool Rd. I hang a right and have a check to see that everything is okay.

It's said that we are to some degree a product of our gene pool; keep up the good work, Shutterbug. !

DGC