My dad’s younger brothers were favored uncles; they were grown-ups, yes, but they were fun. Bob, the youngest, was only a half-generation away from me. After spending a year in Viet Nam with the Navy, Bob had returned to Alameda California in 1972 to complete his service. He arranged for my brother Eric and me to spend time visiting him there during our spring break. The week with him was quite an adventure for us teenagers. It left a strong impression of California culture and provided an intimate look into the life of a highly regarded adult. We met the wonderful woman who would become our Aunt Karen. They planned to wed in June later that year.
Their wedding became a focus for the summer, and my dad arranged a complex family summer vacation to attend this event. We numbered seven, and were no longer small enough to all fit into our Volkswagen bug as we once had. Nor could we fit in the large Pontiac Bonneville, later known as the Great White Whale, especially since we were bringing camping gear for Dad’s planned post-wedding vacation activity: backpacking through Yosemite Park. So both vehicles were recruited for the cause. We had four licensed drivers in our clan and could tag-team the drive to California and back.
I described this backpacking adventure in a previous post. After that memorable experience, we continued by exploring Yosemite Valley. In addition to the famous views of Half Dome and El Capitan, there were art galleries! Yosemite was the adopted home of a number of artists, including photographer Ansel Adams, who had a studio and school here. Many of his images were on display and available for sale.
My interest in photography had informed me about this particular photographer, relatively unknown at the time; he was highly regarded for his techniques in making the perfect exposure for landscapes so that the details in the snow-covered peaks or clouds were captured, but so too were the details in the shadows in the valleys. Our human vision can do this easily, but cameras and film had great difficulty in accomplishing it.
As I examined the prints in the gallery, Dad asked me if I thought one of them would be worth acquiring. Of course I said yes, but I was surprised when he asked me to select one. I had been drawn to one that was reminiscent of the high country in which we had just spent our last week. I was further surprised when he purchased the signed print at a cost of $25. This may not seem like much, and in fact is about what I charge for one of my astrophoto prints, but in today’s (2025) dollars, this was the equivalent of $200, a stunning amount for a family-budget-constrained man to pay for a black and white print from a photographer that he had never heard of.
A year later I had the opportunity to take that print and have it framed for him as a Christmas gift. He proudly displayed it at his office for many years until someone, there for a business meeting, noticed it and asked if he was concerned about having something so valuable on his corporate office walls. This was a bit of a surprise to him, and he brought it back to safely display at home. It remained there until, fifty years after our family first moving in, the house sold to its next family. The print, along with all the other accumulations of a lifetime, would find new caretakers.
I now possess that Ansel Adams photograph, as I suspect Dad intended all along. I see it as a rare purchase on his part– when I am in similar galleries, I do not easily part with $200 for a work of art unless it speaks to me in some way. I’m not sure that picture spoke to my dad in 1972, but he saw that it spoke to me, and he made the choice to spend a sum far beyond his limits in order to acquire it. Today, as I am preparing to display it in my home. I looked up what this print might be worth. A slightly larger version of it, printed at around the same time, and signed in the same way, recently sold at auction for $25,000. Collector’s prices are irrational, but it is satisfying to learn that in our youth and ignorance, we recognized an artistic effort and beauty that would eventually be acknowledged and valued so highly.
