1338 Roosevelt Avenue

My maternal grandparents house was like my second home. I always felt safe, loved, and protected there. It was a place I could escape to whenever things become too intense. After both my grandparents died my mother naturally had to sell their house. When we were collecting personal items before the house changed hands, we found boxes and boxes of 35 mm Kodachrome slides in the attic.

These slides show the life of a family in that house from the 1950’s to the 80’s. Looking through them I was struck and moved by the strong vibrant colors of the slides, but mostly by the content in them. Life seems so vivid, happy, and hopeful for this family. There is my grandmother cuddling with her dog Rip. There are my parents, newly engaged, and looking very much in love. There I am just a few years old being held by my mother. Many tender, loving moments.

I went back to the house a few days before it changed owners and took some photos. I wanted to document the house as it was at that moment. Their would be no more joyous family gatherings or wonderful dinners prepared by my grandmother in that house anymore. No more Christmases or playing Nintendo at age 10 in their den. All that was left was a desolate, stripped down domicile that needed a paint job. I searched for traces for what once was. I didn’t find enough. This house didn’t belong to my grandparents anymore. They were now truly gone. What was once in color seems to be now in black and white.