Editor’s Note: The one thing I love the most about internet is that, it shows us we can see our lives as people are not that much different on this little blue dot we call earth. When I stumble upon Joel’s and his grandparents story, it reminded me now very well known photographer Vivian Maier’s story. So I wanted to show their story to people as much as I can since most of us have family albums and pictures like these you will about to read. I wish with this story you’ll be able to appreciate the moments we live now and in the future.

My name is Joel Bringolf and I am a photographer and filmmaker based in Northern California, USA. I specialize in documentary filmmaking and landscape photography in my local community. In my field, good projects can be few and far between, so sometimes you have to go out and make your own. The project I will be writing about today is an idea I’ve had for many years now, and finally get to work on. It is the best combination of the things I love most: photography, history and family. 

Growing up, my grandmother would create yearly family photo albums. These albums are filled with aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, siblings celebrating birthdays, holidays, events and the many joys of life. These physical albums date back to 1987, several years before I was born, and continue into the 2020s. The best part is that each time we gather, at least one of these albums 10, 20 or even 30 years old makes its way around the group as we tell stories from the years gone by. It wasn’t until I discovered photography for myself that I was able to appreciate the value of what my grandparents did for our family, and that the albums I grew up with were just the tip of the iceberg. 

Photographs are magical in the sense that they allow subjectivity for first-time viewers while still ultimately existing as a fraction of a second in the photographer’s real life. For every photograph through history, there is a photographer on the other end of the lens with a purpose. From my personal experience as a photographer, the intended purpose is often wildly different to the viewer’s interpretations. There’s nothing wrong with this, it’s just the way communication works in many mediums. It is my opinion that photographs are most enjoyable when you can learn the photographer’s purpose in creating the photograph. 

In my grandfather’s storage shed there is a large box. In this box are many more smaller boxes, each filled with color positive slide film. I recall many times in my life he would bring out one of these boxes and set up his slide projector for the family. We never made it through more than 20 or so photographs before losing focus, but the ones we did see growing up were very special; landscapes from my grandfather’s trips around the United States, birthday parties and holidays from past years, and other simple life moments. As I have grown in my own photography, I’ve become increasingly aware of the value these boxes hold, as well as my grandfather’s skill as a photographer. My grandfather and I have talked about digitizing his slides for years now, but we knew the task was large and it took time and preparation to get started. 

We began the process in the summer of this year. I live about an hour and a half drive from Grandma and Grandpa, so we decided to set aside each Monday for as long as it took to complete. The first morning, I packed up my camera, laptop, flatbed scanner and a mess of cables and hit the road. When I arrived, my grandfather was sitting at the dining room table surrounded by slides, his slide viewer and two cups of coffee. I set up my equipment and we got to work! We were able to digitize 120 images that day (about a quarter of the way through one box of the 10 boxes we set out to do). We’d break for lunch with Grandma and the rest of the time was spent scanning. My grandpa would pull out a handful of slides, look through them, reject one or two and place the rest on the slide viewer. From there, I would grab a stack of 4 slides (my scanner is capable of scanning 4 images at a time) and clean them off with a lens tissue and a dust blower. The slides would be placed in the scanner, and we’d get our preview images. From there I would make minor adjustments to brightness and color temperature, then press Scan. Each image takes about 30 seconds to scan at 2400dpi, so I’d have an extra two minutes to select more slides and clean them while the scanner worked. By our 10th day of scanning we were a well oiled machine, scanning upwards of 350 slides in a single day, compared to our first day of 120. 

It has been very rewarding for me to not only spend this time with my grandparents, but also get to know them in a new way. All the photographs we scanned were taken many years before I was born, and many of the stories, people and places were new to me. I have so much respect for both my grandfather and grandmother now that I know much more of their lives together. Many of their close friends and family in these photos have passed away, but by digitizing these photos and sharing stories they are not forgotten. 

Just recently I received an email from my grandpa saying he had located more slides to scan. Neither of us are ready for the project to be over, no matter how tedious it may be! We may even try to locate my great-grandfather’s slides soon, which are rumored to be with one of the uncles. Projects like these really give a new perspective on life, at least for me. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day struggles without taking time to appreciate the moments that make life special. I’m so thankful for photography as a whole for allowing me to capture these moments in my life, and for my grandparent’s dedication to documenting their own lives for the future generations to discover.

Present day, selecting slides to scan next.
Present day, showing Grandma a funny slide we found.
Sacramento, CA late 1960’s
Grandpa and his friend Bob on a trip to the snow early 1960’s.
My grandfather, father and aunt on the ferry dock early 1970’s. 
My aunt, Grandpa’s first child on a walk near their home late 1960’s,
Grandma and my aunt on a trip to San Francisco, CA late 1960’s.
Waiting for the dads to fix a flat tire, early 1970’s.
Grand Tetons National Park, Wyoming late 1960s.
Grand Tetons National Park, Wyoming late 1960s.
Yosemite National Park, California late 1960s.
Hills of Central California, 1970’s. 
My father and his older sister, late 1960’s.

Last words from editor;
As Culture Works (Kültür İşleri) we loved “seeing” the story of Joel and his family. We wish them and anyone who reads this story to create many more cheerful memories. Seize the big moments, little moments, small victories, sadness, happiness and anything in between.
You can submit your works to us from yazar(at)kulturisleri(dot)com email address.

-Ümit Bulut

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