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“Lyza,” in Romania, 1907, one of hundreds of antique photographs that tell a timeless tall.

I discovered my first nineteenth century photographs in 1963 when I was around six or seven years old in the most unlikely place – a duck farm. If Dickens’ Miss Havisham had an outbuilding, it would have been the vast, antique-filled, dark barn in which I discovered these antique images.

I wandered through that massive barn along pathways seemingly laid out with the use of a blindfold and an Etch A Sketch; it was literally a maze from the past. Victorian balloon-back sofas, pier mirrors, highboys, chests of drawers, spinning wheels, trunks, tables, oil lamps, and glassware of every description lined the aisle which led to the treasure that would spark a lifetime of collecting. Baskets and chairs hung suspended from crossbeams like an antique lover’s heaven.

Love Immortal

Love Immortal: Antique Photographs and Stories of Dogs and Their People

At the end of one aisle, beneath a table, was a wooden crate with stenciled block letters, “G. Cramer Dry Plate Company, St. Louis, MO.” The crate was filled with nineteenth-century photographs – it turned out to be the end of the rainbow for me.

Examining the images amid dust motes that twirled in the dim glow of the few lightbulbs that hung from rafters strung with undulating cobwebs was challenging. I moved the box to a table beneath the opaque light of a window covered in years of grime. There, surrounded by antiques of every type, I saw, for the first time, a face from one-hundred years before. With one look, I was a photoholic – I had to have them. I had to have them all.

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