He literally swept her off her feet. It was 1953; under those bright, hot FSU theatre stage lights beating down, he laid eyes on her for the first time. Newly stationed overseas in Okinawa, Ken began piloting B-52 fighter jets, while Sara finished her master’s degree at Cornell University. She was born and raised in The Big White House; very sheltered with a high value on education. In 1954, my type-A, play-by-the-rules, disciplined and educated grandmother Sara literally hopped on a plane, flew overseas, and ELOPED with him in Japan – and did the first unconventional thing of her entire life.

They started very modestly, building life with their own two hands. Just each other. She furnished their house one end-table per month, carefully spending what the Air Force gave them. Through the years, they overcame trials and grew stronger together.

After sixteen Air-Force Base transfers and twenty-eight years, they finally returned to her hometown of Quincy, Florida, and retired.  Sara made a very large purchase – a crystal chandelier. She would hang this over her dining table, and it would set the standard of a new life for her family.

UNDER THAT CHANDELIER

Over the next 20 years we would learn our manners. We would tell stories. We would take pictures. We would plan Christmas. WE WOULD PLAN LIFE. We would discuss theatre and college and dreams and careers. We would learn to be poised. We would learn napkins belong in your lap, and elbows do not belong on the table.

WE WOULD LEARN ABOUT LIFE & WE WOULD DO LIFE TOGETHER. 

I became who I am today under that chandelier.

As a little girl, I’d pull out big ‘ole photo albums and look through their old black & whites. Daddy Ken would see me, smile, then carefully place a needle onto a crackly, worn Sinatra record on a huge record console that flew to the United States in the cargo hold of a B52.

I searched through snapshots of their elopement in Okinawa… Her 1950s wedding dress… and pictures of her hair pinned up in her bathing suit lounging on the Japanese coast. I’d keep looking through these photo albums and just relive their life!
I had never seen this side of her before. She meant the world to me.
 Their first home on base in Okinawa in 1954.

So glad Daddy Ken took time to snap these!!!

I was fifteen and the day my Daddy Ken lost Mama Sara – when it happened,  I just ran.

Out. Away. Anything.

I flung open the squeaky screen door into the cold darkness. I ran barefoot down the long concrete driveway under her two grand magnolia trees that stood so strong, sat on the cold pavement that she drove me down my whole life, and wondered how life could ever go on.

I DETERMINED THEN THAT THIS WOULD NOT BE THE END. My babies would know this woman one day. The chandelier…they will see her legacy. They will know her story. The Magnolias. The magic and the sparkle will live on. My babies would see her smile and they would see the way she loved…
through photographs.

From that moment on she was the spark behind my photography.

I HAD A CAMERA IN MY HAND AND MAMA SARA IN MY HEART.

I began to photograph more of my family’s legacy. Then I became a photographer to capture other families’ chandelier legacies.

Your family stories.
Your sparkles.
So, one day when your granddaughter is off chasing her dreams, 

she’ll get to do it with you by her side.

 

till next time
xoxo
becca