in memoriam

{i didn't know you. probably never even shared the elevator with you. what i do know i learned from google.}

you were born in 1936. you started collecting old photos after a woman in an antique store gave you a handful upon learning that you collected nothing. that collection grew into over 150,000. you wrote more than 60 books and 300 articles. one of your recent collections was women in photography before 1871.

{my parent's weren't even born in 1936, but you are not quite old enough to be my grandfather either. i collect tea pots and kitchenware and music and books and other random pretty objects. not sure that any of it will become my life's work.}

you were not just some random man out walking his dog.

your dog's name was max, and it is reported he ran back to the building and is responsible for alerting security of the accident (corgis are good dogs). the person responsible is still at large. it is believed he stopped and then sped off. he is described only as a white male with black hair between 28-38 driving a ford taurus. i am sure he is sorry and probably living in great fear.

{it's coming back to me, where I was saturday around 7. we were in emeryville, at the store. it was very quiet when we arrived back home. it makes sense now, but doesn't either.}

you had a passion. you loved life and you lived it. you touched many, and i am sure you will be missed greatly.

{you were my neighbor, but we didn't know each other, and that's sad.}