Cameras can be bittersweet.

Papa died in October of 2005 at his veterans home in Anderson, South Carolina. We buried him with red pens; red pens because that's all he wrote with, circling things in the TV guide and notes on newspaper and magazine articles. He's buried next to a creek in a grave site adjacent to his brother (who died of an aneurysm when I was 2). He died just as I was starting to partake in his favorite hobby and his part-time occupation.





While in the Air Force, one of his jobs was to photograph helicopter crashes. In his free time, he photographed everything else, especially my mom and her sister and the family vacations. There are literally dozens of slide carousels sitting in my Nana's house in a closet somewhere of family vacations and the international trips they took after my mom/ aunt were grown. There are prints he made in the Air Force darkroom of my Mom in our basement. I don't know if it was because of that or my own interest, but I started taking photography classes second semester my freshman year of college. I knew the Leica existed, but I had never actually seen it- it hadn't been used in literally over a decade and was buried in a box somewhere. My Nana wasn't ready to let go of it even after Papa had his stroke and clearly wouldn't be able to use it, and while I was interested in it I never really wanted it til after I started taking photography. It was only after I considered taking it on a family trip to Italy that I even considered it and even though I didn't take it with me on that trip, I remember my Nana giving me a white plastic bag with blue writing, inside was the camera and a light meter. It made me cry. A lot. Because I was growing to absolutely ADORE photography class (it was starting to define my college “career”), my Papa would never be able to help me, or tell me what he thought of my pictures. His stroke had left him almost completely incapable of communication or independence.





It took decades for that moment to come about. I'm not for certain what year it was, but sometime in the late 50's/ early 60's, my great-uncle (my Papa's brother ) was doing a tour with the Navy in Europe, Germany specifically. My Papa, being the photography buff and wanting to seize the opportunity, had his brother bring back a Leica M2 while he was over there. I don't know if this particular model was requested or if he just told him to bring something back however, the M2 is what came back with my Uncle and what I've inherited from my Papa. The M2, according to the research I've done, was one of the more popular models being made at the time: a production number approximately 1.4 times the number of M4 and 2.4 times the number of M5. It's serial number “birthday” is Sep 26, 1958 since it has a serial number falling between 940 001 and 942 900 and it was made in a batch of 2900. I know collectors care about these things so they can price by how rare it is, and it's interesting information to have, but frankly, I never, ever intend on selling it so this information is just interesting. Condition wise, the body is in great shape minus 2 little pieces of the leather casing missing and a tiny dent on the top.






I have yet to run a roll of film through it despite having it for years. There's something about running that film through it that is just so intimidating- between Leica's legacy of being the camera of choice for enduring photographers, the fact that it's a film camera without a built in light meter, the fact that it was my grandfathers most prized possession... you get the picture? My papa had bought a light meter that I got with the camera, but it doesn't work anymore, though you can find PDFs of the manual for it online! Even if it did still function, I don't know that I would trust it. I don't actually own a modern light meter, though, and while I could carry my digital and have that act like one, it's easier to just pick one up in NY on Saturday.





Additionally, it has lens mold, which occurs when it's stored improperly for a long period of time like my M2 was- decades in a box somewhere in the house, moved at LEAST 10 times to a wide variety of different climates, states, and living situations. Apparently the leather case further worsens it, but I love the case and can't imagine the camera being in anything else.





Thankfully, the only U.S. licensed Leica repair facility is in Allendale, New Jersey- a mere 1 hour and 47 minutes away. Moving to New Haven was a blessing in that I can drive it there myself instead of shipping it like I was going to when I lived in Lexington. I'm hoping and praying that they'll let me watch them take it apart and clean it- it's just so precious to me that I don't really want it out of my sight. I know that sounds over protective but it's the only thing I have of his. And I was his favorite grandchild and even years later, 8 to be exact, it hurts just as much as it did the day he died.







So here I am, with a 52 year old camera that I'm completely terrified of, that needs to be cleansed of lens mold but not of sentiment and most definitely needs to be used for it's intended purpose. Eventually. Soon.