The kids and I are shivering in Ohio this week, taking some time to visit my dad. They have been having a blast playing in the snow from the last snowfall, which mostly melted yesterday, and is still going today. Me personally, I’m finding it just a wee bit cold. Yesterday, we all went to the Air Force Museum, which is known around the world, and I can’t remember my last visit. Is that sad? I think when you grow up with a place like that, you discount its worth, which is too bad. It’s pretty amazing. The size is something like three large airplane hangars in a row (really large), plus a rocket silo on the end. I have to confess, after a while the airplanes all look like planes to me, but my son kept asking me to take pictures, so I obliged. A couple exhibits really made me stop and think, though:
The first was a small Holocaust exhibit comprised of donations from local Holocaust survivors and their families. I don’t know about you, but I can never look at anything from those camps without wanting to weep. I wonder if there will be a day when the sight of the words “Work Makes Free” will fail to send a chill down our backs. I hope not. Part of the exhibit was a collection of photographs by the relative of a survivor. He chose to include the information from the edges of the film (EXIF data, old school) as part of his enlargements and it really added to the prints. (The big picture here is of the entrance to the exhibit; there are two images of his work in the gallery.)
Have you heard of the Dolittle Raid? I had not, but both my husband and my father had. This group flew missions over Japan and the survivors gather once every year after the war. Apparently 80 of them flew the missions, and 64 survived. Those men started their gatherings and it became a serious tradition. They made silver goblets for all 80, and eventually made a case to carry them. The Air Force Academy (I may have that wrong) stored them in between get togethers for a while; now the museum keeps them on display. The really cool part is that the goblets are each engraved with a pilot’s name, twice, so it can be read right side up or upside down. When a man dies, his goblet is turned upside down. Someone donated a bottle of Hennessy for the final two to drink as a toast to their comrades. There are 11 goblets left standing upright today.
Apologies for the unusually wordy post. I just wanted to share about those two.
by robin cornett
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greta, smitten photography - the air force museum=awesome!! like you said, being face to face with anything holocaust related is so heart wrenching, but it is soooo important for us to be confronted with that tragic part of history. the collection of photographs are amazing. do you remember approximately what size the prints are? it looks like a really big contact sheet or something.
robin cornett - That’s a good question, Greta. I feel like the print itself was approx. 8×10 and then matted. I should have taken a picture of the description of the exhibit so that I would remember the details. I did think to do that on the silver and red plane, which is the only known Northrop A17-A in the entire world. It was discovered in very poor shape and the restoration was completely finished in 2000. I thought that was cool, too.