by L.D. Kirklin
ldkirklin.com
Truth or Speculation?
Much of what we know about life prior to the 19th century exists because of art. Whether it’s etchings on a cave wall, drawn plans for a future ‘flying machine’, or elaborate paintings on a chapel ceiling, art has always been used in some fashion to capture, express, and explain things. When the idea of capturing and reproducing actual images became a reality in the mid-1820s, it changed the tense of life from past to present. We went from seeing someone’s depiction of an event, to seeing the actual event from someone’s perspective. While the etchings and such are all lasting images, photographs added a measure of reality to their lasting presence that other renderings did not.
If you happen into the social hall of the little country church I attend, you’ll see a long, black and white photograph hanging on the wall. The picture is a panoramic image of a congregational homecoming event in 1953. Nearly two hundred people, dressed in their Sunday best, lined up to fill the frame. Back then the event was likely the talk of the community, however today, seventy-two years later, few people in the picture are left to talk about it. Today, the momentous homecoming of 1953 is documented by a single photograph hanging on a wall.
Over the years, I’ve been curious about the homecoming photograph and recently sought out information about it from someone who could easily be classified as the church’s historian. I learned that he was five years old when the picture was taken and can clearly point out himself, his siblings and several other people he remembers. Though his memories of the homecoming event are those of a child, the photograph serves as a visual reminder of the day, clearing the way for other memories and accounts to surface.
One amusing anecdote involved a man named Billy Beasley who appears on both ends of the homecoming picture. Apparently, he stood at the end of the group and, as the camera moved, Billy ran behind the photographer and stood on the other side of the group so he could be included in the picture twice.
As I listened to the account, I looked at the picture and found Billy in both locations. The people around him seemed to have jovial expressions, and I wondered if that had something to do with his antics. Of course, all I could do was wonder, because those who could answer my question are no longer here to do so.
Looking at that picture, I realized that as much as I enjoy it for capturing beautiful and important moments in life, photography simply cannot tell the whole story. Pictures without knowledge, no matter how they are rendered, are merely visual speculations. By itself, a picture will raise questions or create a story, but its truth can only be told by those who know its details.
For several decades, a radio host by the name of Paul Harvey delighted listeners with accounts of popular events and human-interest stories. Mr. Harvey would often start his broadcast by giving common and well-known facts about his topic. By itself, his setup often created a meaningful story that could stand on its own, but it usually didn’t. When he had everyone drawn in with his neatly framed picture, he would always pause, then say, “…and now, the rest of the story”.
Most of what Mr. Harvey expressed at the beginning of his story was to give his listeners an impression he knew would change when he revealed the total truth. As he finished the story, tying all the facts together, he gave another well-placed pause as he said, “and now you know, the rest of the story.”
The fact is we all take pictures every day whether we use a camera or not. Every observation of or encounter with other people creates a picture in our minds that calls for an explanation or, as Paul Harvey called it, ‘the story’. The question is, do we learn the truth about our pictures, or do we burden ourselves with the story we create for them?
If someone mistreats us, do we assume the reason for that person’s actions, or do we offer grace as we seek the reason?
If someone struggles with something, do we assume a lack of effort on their part, or do we offer sympathy and try to find a way to help?
Because we cannot talk to the artists, we can only assume things about the etchings, drawings and paintings of the past. However, we don’t have to assume anything about the pictures we take each day. Through honest communication with others, we can attach the truth to what we see, and the truth will set us free.
Never underestimate the power of perspective.
