Here is a story about
and scuba divers.
I had breakfast yesterday with my high school friends, I took with me, a few of my old photo albums.
As we looked over the pictures from our high school days some thirty years ago, we reminisced about adventures past. A few photos were from our senior class trip to a local amusement park. My friend asked if I remembered that trip and “that big event” that took place during that trip. Yes, I remembered. Oh how I thought at that time. that my life was flashing before my eyes and that I was going to be in so much trouble with my parents when they found out about it.
My mother was the queen of guilt. I swear she could make me feel so guilty with just a few words, I would confess to sins that I hadn’t even considered committing. She should have been a professional interrogator.
Anyway back to the story. My parents gave to me, as an early graduation gift a camera. It was a big deal back then and I was quite proud of it. I got all the customary speeches about being responsible and taking care of the camera, blah blah blah. When the senior class trip rolled around and I wanted to take the camera along, I got another round of lectures about being responsible and not being reckless with the camera and whatever I did, don’t lose it.
Well, I didn’t lose it.
Dad – if you are reading this, you have gotten to the confession part of the story.
There we were my buddies and I at the amusement park messing around as high school kids do and there was some sort of body of water nearby. I can no longer remember all the details, I’m sure I’ve blocked it out due to my overwhelming guilt – thanks mom.
Anyway the camera slipped out of my hand into the pond/lake whatever it was.
Out of sight.
We all just stood there in silence and utter disbelief. At some point I became aware of my hysterical screaming/crying yelling jumping up and down, bringing the entire or what seemed at the time, the entire amusement park to a stand still. The park authorities took pity on me and put together a team of scuba divers that retrieved the camera.
The camera was ruined.
A friend that had their own black room developed those pictures that could be salvaged, and those were the ones we reminisced over yesterday.
I was beside myself, and felt I couldn’t face telling my parents about how irresponsible I had been. I cried myself to sleep that night and I’m sure many more.
I came up with the idea to empty my piggy bank of all the funds I had saved from birthdays and Christmases past, and all the graduation money I had received. I believe I may have borrowed money from my sister too, sorry if I never paid you back,sis. I took that money I had been saving for years and went out and purchased the same camera so I wouldn’t have to confess to my parents.
Some time later, when something came up that I wanted to buy, my mother suggested that I should use the funds from my piggy bank. When I had to explain to her I didn’t have any money saved, I again got the lecture about being so irresponsible with my money and how could I have blown all that cash.
Yep, there’s that guilt again.
I’ve kept that secret all these years, and I’ve kept my passion for taking photos too.
If you see me with white knuckles while holding my camera you now know that it is a throw back to this experience. If there is a body of water nearby I should most likely head in the other direction. Which is hard, because I am drawn to water and I would rather be in, on or near water than just about any other place and with my camera in hand.
Until next time,