Anton

This past week, Tuesday (in the US) March 9th, my father-in-law passed away in Newcastle, Australia.

I wouldn’t normally write about such personal things but sometimes the best way for me to wrap my head around things is to be creative, whether it be through photos or some other medium. And since my my site and blog is photo related I think I can somehow relate all of this and it will make sense.

Since we live in the United States and my wife’s family lives in her birthplace, Australia, I savor the trips back there. I’ve been there many times now and each trip back we have spent a good amount of time with her parents. During those trips I’ve always looked forward to time with family and I have gotten to know her her father, Anton. This is some of his story as I have learned it and how we came to know each other.

Anton has been married for 61 years to Helena. Anton and Helena had three children; the oldest, Yvonne, middle daughter Linda and the youngest, Paula. Anton was born to Dutch parents working in Indonesia and was sent back to Holland to live with relatives when he was a child. During WWII he served for the Dutch merchant marines. He sailed several times through the harbors of New York and when in port enjoyed the big band music he could find in downtown NY City. Seeing old photos of Anton always reminded me of movie stars in 30’s and 40’s. He had all the looks and flare of Cary Grant and I bet he was quite the hit with the lady’s when he pulled into port and hit the dance floor with his fancy dress and Dutch accent.

At the time, the Dutch merchant marines used to sail to Cuba and pick up supplies. They had a rule that said if your ship got blown up and you survived you could go home. Knowing that his ship was dodging floating mines in the harbors and German U-boats, Anton slept with his flotation device tied tight around him but never used it. After hearing of a sister ship being blown to bits, Anton received a letter saying that his family had been killed in the war. Thinking that he was the only one left and all was surely lost, Anton jumped ship when they hit the dock in New York and started a life there. Eventually Anton learned that the news he had received was false and he made is way back to the merchant marines and finally to Holland to reunite with his family. Once back and settled he met Helena.

Late in the 50’s Australia was offering incentives and recruiting hard for citizens. Helena and Anton decided this was just the adventure they wanted. They packed up their two daughters and headed for a new land on the other side of the world. During this time Anton had become interested in photography and film.

I’m sure that Anton must have felt a bit uneasy traveling so far on a cruise ship after his merchant marine service but he loved the sea and he did it anyway, not only did he do it but he documented the journey. Throughout the trip he shot 16mm film and its amazing. Their journey took them through exotic lands and he thought to capture it all on film as they went. Footage shows the ship passing through the Suez Canal with camels walking along the banks. He showed the kids playing on the deck of the ship and waves rising and falling through the portals in his state room. Early on they traveled through the Gulf of Naples and visited Pompeii where Anton got footage of the family at lunch and walking through the Italian markets. It was a fabulous journey. The film is a bit faded and cracked now but this only adds to the authenticity.

During a trip in 2006 I brought Anton a film splicer so that he could repair some of the old reels. With hands shaking and weak eyes he did it, he pulled out his projector and patched together the memories. After a couple hours of delicate work, Anton had put together several reels and the family gathered round to relive the historic immigration from Holland to Australia. Anton not only showed film from the cruise ship but also post war Holland. It was like watching a Hollywood film yet this was real. He captured intimate moments like ducklings on a pond and the children at play in the park. He knew about F-stops and lighting and changed lenses to get close ups or wide angle scenics. That was where Anton and I met.

I didn’t know Anton as well as I would have liked but we found common ground in photography. He wasn’t much into all these new digital things but he knew the process of making a photo and appreciated a good shot. Whenever we got together I was sure to show him some things I had recently worked on, maybe brought him a couple magazines I was in at the time, and he was always anxious to see everything. Anton was a quite person but through seeing each others work we got to meet in the middle and form a relationship.

Through his films on that night back in 2006 I saw just as much adventure as I could have read in any book. The power of film brought us to far away lands, through time and back again. It was amazing to see what the family had done and how Anton had captured it so beautifully. I think everyone in the room laugh or cried through there own personal parts of it as the old reels flickered along.

We never know where a photo will lead us. It could lead us backwards, to a place we don’t want to go. It could take us forward, give us a good kick in the back side and make us charge ahead. The power of a photo can never be underestimated. If were lucky its much bigger than a double page spread or another cover of a magazine. I can’t deny liking those things but if were lucky we can get more out of it. If were lucky, it brings people together.

Anton is gone now but the memories won’t fade. They live on in family and friends, in photos and film. If I could have said anything to him at the end it would have been to just say thanks. Thanks for letting me be a part of the family. Thanks for showing me your work and appreciating mine. Thanks for taking the time to work with that old film splicer and piece reels together, I know it was hard for you to do. Thank you, you brought us together.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 17th, 2010 at 12:11 am and is filed under Writing and tagged with jonathan devich, photographer. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.