Broken Clocks

An excerpt from my journal, written while on the train to the city yesterday—

Yesterday, I went to the flea market and bought 4 records and around 20 photos from the 10’s to 50’s. I was literally in awe of the pictures& postcards this man had. Nazi postcards, normal postcards, letters, WWII photos & photo albums full of history. It was incredible. Time is so odd. All the photos were in B&W or sepia and it really seems like those moments are stuck in time. Like if youwent to that exact spot those photos were taken, those laughs, smiles, embraces, faces would still be there. I saw this one photo, from around the 40’s, that I thought I’d picked up of a girl raising her arms over her head at the beach and having armpit hair. For some reason, I loved it. I also did pick up a picture that I love, it’s in the album at home, and is my wallpaper on my phone. A girl laughing with her head resting on the steering wheel of a car, and a guy’s butt sticking out, presumably while he’s reaching over to get something or say bye to someone. The girl has the biggest smile on herface, and I can almost hear what’s going on around the car. It’s such a simple moment that 75 years ago seemed so insignificant to those people but means so much to me, almost a century later. On the back it just says, “3/25/45” in pretty script. Amazing…

“3/25/45”

“Alice Hyers,”

“Bill & Lu, June 46”

“Bill & Trish, June 15, 1947”

Postcard, probably from the 30’s

A really interesting photo I found, in a handmade photo album burned in a fire, where all the photos were, from my history teacher’s input, pre-Hitler times

“Christmas 1944”, in the Philippines during WWII as per the man selling the photos

A postcard addressed to New Jersey from South Africa, in 1970

With love,

Jenna

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