A Life in Photography

Monday, May 30, 2022

Tennessee Rust

Rusting away in Southeast Tennessee

I noticed this scene one fall day in the late 1990s while driving between Cleveland and Georgetown along Tennessee Highway 30. I've always thought of the photo as "Tennessee Rust."

As I wrote in reply to Greg, who commented on my post "Abandoned" (May 24th), I find quite a few abandoned homes in the countryside, where the residents most likely have died or gone to a senior care facility, with no one to take over the place, or perhaps no one who cares to. Some of these properties may be tied up in legal complications, so they just sit until they fall down.

I made the photograph with a Pentax 6x7 camera and the 105mm f2.4 standard lens and, as always, Fujichrome 100 transparency film. (If the film is 35mm, it's a "slide." If a larger format camera is used, it's a "transparency."

As I've mentioned a few times before in this blog, I believe the Pentax 6x7 gave me the highest percentage of "keepers" of any camera I've ever used. Of course, one reason for that could be that the Pentax, with its 2-1/4 X 2-3/4 format gave only ten exposures per roll of film. That definitely reduced the temptation to overshoot! Most likely I would have made only two exposures of this scene -- one as indicated by the meter, and one a half-stop under. If I had been shooting digitally, I probably would have fired off a dozen.

Even so, I find that I shoot much less than most digital photographers. My 35 years of working with film have deeply ingrained within me a conservative shooting style.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

My most recent book, Backroads and Byways of Georgia, is a 304-page soft-cover with more than 200 color photographs. Published by Countryman Press, it is priced at $22.95. Signed and inscribed copies are available directly from me at (423) 240-2324 or djphoto@vol.com.

Friday, May 27, 2022

George D. in His Prime

George David Queener in his mid-60s.

I've written before about George David Queener, one of the most unforgettable people I've ever known. Starting with essentially nothing in the late 1940s, through years of hard work and scrimping he and his wife Mary Ellen put together almost acre-by-acre and cow-by-cow what became the 850-acre GDQ Ranch in McLemore Cove, running about 350 head of purebred beef cattle. This picture was made when he was in his late 60s and in the very prime of his life.

We bought 30 acres of land from George D. in 1985, and, in 1987, began living on our property in a 12x40-foot trailer. We soon acquired a few cattle of our own. Many people considered George to be a difficult man, but he was a good neighbor to us and generous in helping us with our cattle. He had forgotten more about raising cattle than most people will ever know.

Mary Ellen passed away from a brain tumor in 1996 and George D. was never the same after that. The last years of his life he fought Parkinson's Disease, but kept on farming with the aid of his son.

One day in early 2013, George drove his red pickup up our driveway and came in to visit awhile. His tremmors were quite noticeable and he was so weak we had to help him into his truck. Later, we realized that George D. had been paying us a farewell visit. His son placed him in a nursing home not long after that, and in November, George David Queener passed away at the age of 89.

"There were giants in the land in those days. . ."

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Abandoned

Maverick, Tennessee Highway 100, Marion County

Although I've written several times that I prefer to work on photographic projects, the truth is that many of my favorite photos have been the result of just being out-and-about with a camera. Since 1968, I've carried a camera with me wherever I've gone and have developed the habit of just "noticing things." As Elliott Erwitt, one of the all-time great photographers once said, "Photography is simply a function of noticing things. Nothing more. . .All the technique in the world doesn't compensate for the inability to notice."

Every now and then I just take a day, load a camera and a few lenses in my car, and go wherever my whim takes me. On this particular day I was on Cumberland Mountain, prowling the backroads of Marion County, Tennessee, when I saw this abandoned Ford Maverick, a car from the 1960s, parked next to an abandoned trailer. The color tones, the fallen leaves, the partial overcast -- all wrote a sombre symphony of sadness, of abandonment.

I made the picture with my Minolta Autocord twin-lens reflex camera on Fujichrome 100 transparency (slide) film. I love that camera, and would be a better photographer if I used it more often. Unfortunately, film and processing are expensive and digital photography is cheap.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

Monday, May 23, 2022

Waiting Her Turn

Next!

When we moved to our farm in McLemore Cove in 1987, there was a delapidated old house, built around 1850, on the property, and behind it, an outhouse. It was probably not as old as the house, but had obviously been there a long time

At the time our son Don was married in 1990, we had just finished building a new barn and had not yet put it into use. We spread wood shavings on the dirt floor and used it to host Don's and Kim's rehearsal dinner the evening before the wedding. It was a lively occasion, much enjoyed by all. My parents came from Indiana, and Kim's grandparents and great-grandmother came from Texas.

Because of a lack of sanitary facilities, and in keeping with the rustic spirit of the occasion, we moved the old outhouse to a spot near the barn, fitted it with a new seat, toilet paper, disinfecting hand-wipes, and a bucket of quicklime. For most of the guests it was a new experience in genuine country living.

After the party, we left the outhouse in place. A few years later I noticed one of our cows standing near the facility with a bemused expression on her face, as if waiting her turn. Naturally, I made a picture.

They must have used some pretty tough wood to make that little building, because it was still there when we sold the farm 31 years later.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

Friday, May 20, 2022

Rednecks are Everywhere

Fun at the village swimming hole.

People seem to think rednecks are a Southern phenomenon, but if that were ever true, it no longer is. Rednecks are everywhere. Mostly, they're just ordinary people, with certain cultural identifiers. These folks were having fun with a golden retriever, tossing a ball into the water while he made repeated jumps to retrieve it. It was all great fun for everyone, especially the dog. I photographed them one Sunday afternoon at the village swimming hole at a small town in southwestern New Hampshire.

I was in the area working on a magazine assignment and took the day off to prowl around with some friends, carrying with me my trusty Olympus OM2n camera, the 85mm f2 Zuiko lens (my favorite), and plenty of Fujichrome 100D slide film.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

Monday, May 16, 2022

The View from 85

Sunset over Mobile Bay

This past Saturday, May 14th, was my 85th birthday. I have lived a privileged life.

But maybe not in a way some people would think of as privileged.

I was privileged to be born to poor, but Godly and intelligent parents who taught us to be readers.

When I was eight, my parents bought an old farmhouse in southern Indiana with 170 acres of woods and worn-out land. They paid $1300 for it. We had a few cows, goats, chickens, and a horse, and a mule. In summertime, my brothers and I could go fishing and swimming every day in a creek about a mile away.

I was privileged to attend a one-room school with about 25 children in six grades. We were given a thorough grounding in the basics. For junior high, as we called it then, I attended a school with eight grades in four rooms. I was privileged to move on to a small high school with only about 125 students. I could never have made the basketball team in a larger school, but there I could, and became proficient enough to play four years of small-college ball.

I was privileged, while in college, to meet and marry Barbara Hedgepeth, of Sarasota. When she passed away three years later, she left me with our son Rob. Two years later I was privileged to marry Louise Devlin, of Miami. She loved us both and took my son as her own. Later, our son Don, was born.

These two women, along with my mother, are the three finest women I've ever known. And our sons are really good men who married fine women and have raised fine families. It's a privilege to be their father, grandfather,and now, great-grandfather.

In my career as a photographer and writer I was privileged to work with some great clients. They sent me to 26 countries on five continents and around much of these United States. Louise and I have also been privileged to travel extensively.

Louise and I were privileged to buy a small farm in McLemore Cove in the northwest Georgia mountains, where for more than 30 years we built a life and a home for our children and grandchildren to come to. Along the way we were privileged to adopt a third son, Shawn, who continues to be a blessing to us.

More recently, as we sold our house and land, we were privileged to begin a life of full-time RV living and travel.

Above all, we have been privileged to know the God of the Universe through his son Jesus Christ.

I'm privileged. And grateful. And ready for the next adventure.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

Thursday, May 12, 2022

The Gate to Sourwood Lane

This gate, bracketed by two massive old oaks, looks out onto Sourwood Lane. It was the entrance to our little farm in McLemore Cove. Behind me was the site of our first home here, a 12 by 40-foot house trailer where we lived our first four years. They were the happiest years of our lives.

Now we are once again in a "tiny home," this time on wheels, always looking for our next adventure.

I've always loved this picture, but I've never shown it before.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo

For the glory of God alone

This blog is about photography, about travel, and about life. I write about the tools, techniques, art, and philosophy of photography, some of the places I've been, things that have happened in my life, and whatever else crosses my mind. I write the blog I would like to read, if someone else were writing it. My domain is the old, the odd, and the ordinary; the beautiful, the abandoned, and the about to vanish away. I am a visual historian of an earlier America and a recorder of the interface between man and nature; a keeper of vanishing ways of life.

Photographs and text © 2011-2024 David B. Jenkins