Life Stories: My First Photography Gig

It is hard for me to tell the entirety of my story in any particular sequence or simple way. I suppose sometimes things kind of speak for themselves, and I can give a summary overview of what I recall of this event and these albums.

Summary:

According to the date on one of the photos in the albums my mother put together at the end of April 1979 (within two weeks of my father’s death on May 10, 1979) for some type of lawsuit evidence, she had fallen at Almart (a store that was on Kirkwood Highway) on March 22, 1979.

I remember we were shopping there and one of the items bought was a cotton plaid shirt for me. (Exhibit S-8 and S-9, ha ha!) Of course I remember this because she kept talking about being there and buying me that shirt. She evidenced it in the album! I suppose I wanted to look at something there – I was often taken on shopping trips and of course, I was a normal teenage girl.

I remember it was during the evening, and my father was somewhere in the store also. If I were to try to recreate in my mind my best guess as sequence, I think while they were elsewhere doing whatever they went to Almart for (sometimes, I think they went there to eat dinner, I believe that store had a restaurant area, and since my mother didn’t cook, at times perhaps my dad got home from work too late, or, she had some reason that we should “leave the neighborhood” – keep in mind her paranoia that I’ve started to describe in other postings – and all I knew was that we were “going out for dinner” which meant to Rustler’s Steakhouse, or KFC or places like Almart…)

So I believe I probably had meandered into the young women’s clothing area. Of course. I was a normal teenager. Who knows what shopping mission she was on otherwise. I think I saw that shirt and had found her and asked about buying it. She was following me to that section and according to her account, there was a “rolling rack” in the middle of the aisle and she stumbled over it and fell.

I recall that indeed, one of those metal clothing display racks was somewhere…I believe she said it was in the middle of a main aisle (and without clothing on it) in such a way that it was unseen to her. She “walked right through a rolling rack” and tripped and fell.

I have glimpes of this in my mind’s eye but cannot recall clearly what happened. I think she started making some type of spectacle – perhaps crying, shouting…with people coming to her aid. Of course I do understand, she was 55 years old and falling at that age can be a terrible and startling thing.

However, it was some type of accident. Whether there was any actual negligence on the part of the store – I surely doubt it. My mother had a long history going back before my birth of opportunistic lawsuits, threats of lawsuits for a number of varied things ranging from motor vehicle accidents to neighbors she claimed were harassing her.

So began the latest opportunity for lawsuit against Almart’s.

My mother had been a legal secretary when she was younger, and her usage of legal language and threats often were the basis of her intimidation of others. Especially, her own husband, my father.

As you browse these photos and her tagging of them, I really don’t know that I can explain easily what was in her mind, but I do know, somewhat. The unfortunate thing about growing up in this situation was that I understood to some degree how her mind worked.

The photo of me washing dishes? Proof that her injury kept her from her domestic duties. The truth? She never really washed dishes. My dad and I did that.

She seems to indicate that her dentures were broken in the fall and I do recall much talk about this. Whether they were already in disrepair, I don’t know. As I write this, I’m wondering at the phrase coming into my mind, “my dentures flew out of my mouth on the ground.” As with so many different old memories, it is hard to know where these phrases that suddenly whiz through our minds come from. But, it certainly sounds like something she may have said.

Maybe they did. Maybe they were ill fitting and did in fact, fall onto the floor.

She appears to be diagramming issues with her leg, bottom, breasts, and pretty much all parts of her body.

__________

I do recall the immense stress and fixation she had upon this lawsuit during the six weeks prior to my father’s death.

And, here’s the thing. Who do you think took these photos of her pain and suffering? Yes, clearly, she wanted to document her pain and suffering, and this is how her mind worked.

It was me. I took all photos of HER contained in these images. I do clearly recall that night. My mother (and I’m thinking it was sometime between late March and mid April) wanted me to go into the bedroom with the little Vivitar 110 film camera we had and photograph her.

I did not want to. And I was refusing. We were arguing.

First, I knew it was ridiculous. I knew it was time-consuming and would be hours of patience-draining compliance, posing, whatever. It was likely a school night. I was fifteen year old, in the spring of my sophomore year. I told her NO. “No, I will not take the pictures.” Likely, I also told her what I thought about it all.

There was argument.

And then, my father, who was sitting in a chair in the living room, had to get one of his nitroglycerin tablets he would put under his tongue when he would have angina attacks, during the immense stress with her.

I clearly recall what my father said to me, word for word…with anger, disgust, command…and pleading…I assume.

I knew that my father’s health after his first heart attack in 1976 depended upon my compliance with certain things and my refraining from other things. As I grew into my teenage years, this became more and more difficult for me in my relating to my mother.

But that night, for my father’s sake, I complied and obeyed.

So I suppose I might say…um…it was my first photography gig?

Ha.

My father said to me:

“Just take the damn pictures.”

And, I complied.

I can recall (vaguely) the absurdity of having to photograph her with the heating pad in the bed, and her showing the look of pain on her face. I kind of think these photos may have been done over several days (by me) rather than one evening, but I cannot say for certain. I kind of recall getting home from school and having to take a few more, after the evening episode. I can remember kinda “going with it” at some point and deciding to enjoy the bizarre amusement of it. I mean, if I had to do this weird photoshoot…well…..!

She appears to have changed outfits and planned out her demonstrations. The photos of objects in the house, of course, were taken by her. She did all the album assembly and notations, of course. She includes a business card of her dentist and the insurance adjuster. I do believe she got some small settlement check, but cannot say for certain.

The date tags of 4/28/79 are particularly significant to me, as I recall the immense buildup over this incident and my father’s stress level. His heart attack occurred the evening of May 4, a Friday night, and he was dead by May 10th of that year. Twelve days later. So, his words to me, that I share here before the photos, are significant.

LIFE STORIES: OTHER MOMS, TEENAGERS AND DOGGED PURSUIT OF NORMALCY GOT ME THROUGH MAY 16, 1979