Teche Sketches: Couple guided by code of conduct

Well, this year is finally coming to an end.

Overflowing with commotion, from a pandemic, hurricanes, and political uncertainties, I’m relieved it’s almost over. And I’m now looking ahead with anticipation to what I hope will be a more peaceful 2021.

Needless to say, at this point I’m somewhat worn out and often feel emotionally lethargic. Also, due to the pandemic and social distancing I’ve had fewer visits with both friends and family. I need more contact with others.

Fortunately, however, I recently had the opportunity to remedy my situation.

A friend, Tom, that I hadn’t seen in over a year contacted me recently and told me that he wanted us to get together. Incidentally, since we both agreed with the current health protocols we would wear masks and converse from a safe distance. After supper at my place we talked about our mutual interests, which included photography. He mentioned that he knew an elderly couple in rural Broussard who for nearly fifty years have been avid collectors of vintage photographic equipment. After insisting that I would enjoy meeting them, he phoned them and they said that we could visit on the following morning.

When we got there, I saw that “Melvin” and “Irene” (they requested anonymity) lived in a large Victorian-style house. They were very welcoming and even though we all wore masks, everyone felt comfortable. This was now, in my opinion, the “new normal.”

We sat in the parlor and got acquainted. The couple, in their late 70s, had dozens of striking photographs adorning their walls. They featured such subjects as general travel images, architectural studies, and portraits depicting the inhabitants of distant countries.

“We did a lot of traveling,” Irene admitted, “but we prefer to stay home now because of COVID. But our other joy has always been collecting (photographic) equipment.”

We moved to the adjoining room which had three walls lined with wide shelves containing just about everything related to photography. There were bellows-type cameras, early projection devices, and even “flash lamps” that used magnesium to enhance illumination.

Melvin remarked, “We picked up most of our ‘treasures’ at flea markets and antique dealers both here and abroad. One of our oldest pieces is an original Kodak box camera from 1888.”

After admiring a leather-covered box “detective” camera, I glanced to my right and saw a large framed poster board hanging on the adjacent bare wall. There were boldly written sentences on it apparently made by a marker.

As I approached it to read the words, Irene said, “Melvin and I call this our ‘manual of conscience’. Once in a while one of us will write down the ways that are best for us to think and act. It’s our form of having a moral guideline.”

On it were written such jewels as: “Understanding,” “No malice, ever,” “Give, don’t take,” “Patience and more patience,” “No one is beneath us.” And my two favorites: “Others always come first,” and “Never fail to tell the truth, even if it’s painful.”

“We don’t always succeed at following what we write down,” Melvin confessed, “…but we believe it’s a step forward at least to try.”

Although their written sentiments might appear, to some, to be simple and possibly trite, I felt that they formed the very solid foundation of this couple’s existence.

I had originally gone that day to see a rare photography collection but instead I observed and felt something far more priceless.

O.J. GONZALEZ is a native and resident of Jeanerette. He graduated from USL in printmaking and photography and his photographs have appeared in publications in Louisiana, Alaska, Canada, New Zealand and England.