A Story Hidden in the Case

Some old cameras are just neat old cameras. Then every once in a while, one comes along that feels like a little more than that.

This one meant something to me before I ever really looked it over.

My wife was out of state with her mom that day, and somewhere in the middle of all that, she still took time to think of me and my hobby. She came home with three cameras. That meant a lot to me. Stuff like that stays with a man. She did not have to do it, but she did, and that made them special before I ever opened a case or looked through a lens.

I was excited. Maybe not in quite the same way I get when I hunt one down myself and wait for the mail to bring it in, but excited all the same. This one was different from the start because it came from her.

At first glance, it looked about like you would expect. An old camera in an old case that is worn out and tired. Nothing wrong with that.

Then I opened the case flap and my stomach dropped.

I believe I damaged it. The flap split away from the main part of the case, and for a second I thought the whole thing was fixing to come off in my hand. It is still attached, but barely. Fragile is putting it kindly. That case does not need restored. It needs preserved.

After that, I slowed way down and got a whole lot more careful.

Then I saw it.

Three block letters, plain as day. USN.

That is when the whole thing changed on me. Up to that point, it was an old camera and case. After that, it was a serviceman’s gear.

That hit me a little harder than I expected it to.

A lot of my family served honorably. Some came home to respect. Some came home to a lot less than they should have. So when I saw those letters, it was not just some mark on an old case anymore. It brought on a rush of pride, old memories, and those family stories that get told sitting around a table. The kind that are true where it counts, even if a few details may have grown enough over the years to fit in at the liar’s table.

Once that hit me, the questions started coming.

Was this camera with him while he served?

Where has it been?

What all has it seen?

Whose hands had it before mine?

Then there were the other clues. The handwritten label. The name. The mystery numbers.

Will I ever know exactly what those numbers meant? Maybe. Maybe not.

Truth is, I am not sure I need to.

Sometimes the mystery is part of it. Sometimes that is what gives an old thing its weight. You know just enough to feel it, but not enough to ever know the whole story.

That is when this one really got ahold of me.

What started out as a thoughtful gift from my wife turned into something deeper the minute I realized whose hands may have carried it long before mine did.

That is one of the things I love about old cameras. Sometimes the real story is not the brand name or the model. Sometimes it is the marks left behind. A name pressed into something. A few letters that tell you who it belonged to. A worn old case that somehow made it this far.

And now it means something to me too for its own reasons.

My wife thinking of me is part of it, and the fact that it once belonged to somebody who served is part of it too. But more than anything, somewhere along the line this old camera quit feeling like just an object and started feeling like it had a little something to say.

Sometimes an old camera is more than an old camera.

Sometimes there really is a story hidden in the case.