The Baby Photographer
I met a elderly gentleman who, in his twenties, had been a WII combat photographer. He had listed some camera equipment for sale in the Want Advertiser so my wife and I drove from Woonsocket to Framingham to check out the equipment. I was interested in the 2X3 Crown Graphic camera he had for sale. It took us forever to find his apartment in the confusing layout of the apartment complex. Once inside he showed me the camera, we made a deal and I left with a real nice camera.
A few weeks later I saw an ad for some lighting equipment that the same gentleman was selling, so we made another trek to Framingham and again it took forever to find his apartment. After the transaction was completed we started talking. He told us that after he left the service he made a living as a baby photographer and then as a photographic equipment salesman. He was liquidating the rest of his equipment which was why I was there. We talked about lenses and film, developers and paper, and the usual photography talk.
Then he told me us a shocking story that will always stay with me. During his stint as a combat photographer he photographed the most gruesome scenes of WII. Soldiers mutilated buy the enemy, on both side, Civilians gunned down, decapitations, you name it and he photographed it on his army issued 4X5 Speed Graphic. However, he also recorded these scenes on his own 35mm Leica when no one was looking. He was convinced that once he got home he would develop the film and show the world the horrors of war and that would be the end of war forever. He kept the film hidden and on the way back to the United Sates he found someone on the ship’s crew that was sympathetic to his cause and hid the film on the ship for re retrieval at another time.
When he reached the United States he packed his gear minus the film and proceeded to leave the ship. Two MP’s met him at the dock and asked him to turn over the film. He denied the existence of the film so the MP’s gave him two options. Turn over the film, or be committed to a military mental hospital. He was resolved not to turn over the film. They threw him into the back of a van and drove to the hospital. They placed him into a padded cell where he remained for two week, not allowed to see anyone, not even a lawyer. After two weeks he couldn’t take it any longer and told them where the film was stashed. They found the film and he was released.
When he returned home he found a job as a baby photographer and never took pictures of anything other than babies.
This picture of my wife is an interesting side story. During my conversation with this gentleman he wrote down a formula for a film developer that he had concocted while he was in the army. He had tried to get Kodak to market it but they had no interest. It reduced that amount of grain and enhanced the tonal gradations of the film that I was using at the time. I mixed up a batch and used it to develop the image of my wife. The image quality was astounding. However, when I went to make a second batch I could not find the formula. I tried to duplicate it but failed. I knew the ingredients but did not know the right amount. Even in this age of digital photography I still think of the great images I could have made using his formula. But at least I have this great image of my wife.
So this man, in his twenties, failed in his attempt to stop wars forever, later, failed in his attempt to market a very special developer, but found peace in photographing babies.