What a sorry lot of siblings we were. Eldest daughter Annette (right) looks the best. The youngest, Laurette, is placid but not exactly enthusiastic. And me—yes, me—looks like I want to be anywhere else but there.
The portrait comes from my father’s collection of photographic slides. My sister Nanette (missing from the photo) and I visited the Old Man at his home in Maine two years ago today. The following month he went into hospice, and he died 40 days later—April 16, 2024. We later learned that via quick-claim deed he gave away the family farm to the copastors of his church. They sold the property 13 months later.
I remember that T-Shirt, which would make me a Seventh or even Eighth Grader in this photo likely taken sometime summer 1973, or thereabouts. During colder months, I wore the Caribou Tee over long-sleeve shirts. Bare arms means warmer weather.
There’s an art to photographing kids—little of which comes through the Featured Image. My father should have stuck to shooting landscapes and wildlife. That said, more than 50 years later it’s an object lesson I hope to learn something from. Tell a joke. Loosen the kids up. Get them smiling. Laughing. Scowls are for portraits of rock musicians.
Photo Credit: Joseph Wilcox