December 16, 2005

Memories and Photographs


I have always been intrigued by the relationship between my memories and the photographs I have frequently seen. Immersing myself in the family history for the last four years, I certainly remember much I had forgotten. I hope everyone finds my photo blog equally helpful.

But do I remember the actual event or do I remember the slides of the event? Do I remember clearly what was never photographed? Unquestionably, discussing the picture slides with the whole family did elicit everyone's memories, which then became incorporated into individual memories. I fondly remember countless slide shows with mom and dad, Grandma Nolan, uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters-in-law, and nephews and nieces. There was always screams of laugher and frequent admonitions to the younger Koches to stop standing between the projector and the screen. I recall Mom's telling me Richard and Kathy were watching the family slides. I suspected correctly that she would call back a few hours later to announce their engagement. I encouraged Andy to watch the family slides on his second visit to New York in 1996:) I tend to gauge the seriousness of potential family mates by how immersed they were in the family photos.

Yet the pictures so distort the reality of our everyday life. We got a few toys at Christmas, but we never played with them. We went away on vacation the entire summer. In the summer we lived in the water, either in the pool or at the beach; in the winter there was always abundant snow. We were always outside, never inside. We never played ping pong or knock hockey. We never played board games that ended with some poor sport upsetting the board once his loss became inevitable. (I was always a good sport because I was usually winning.)

But much of our outside play is neglected. We never played badmitten; we never played baseball; we never went ice skating; we never had a sled; we never rode a bicycle. My brothers did play basketball in the driveway unless the next door neighbor was complaining to the cops about evening play. Richard never ran cross country. Several brothers were photographed in football regalia, but there was no proof the Michael actually played on his high school team. Michael's broken leg is honored, but not Peter's broken arm. Richard's missing tooth is noted.

We were very religious; we spent an inordinate amount of time receiving our communion and being confirmed. However, we never went to church at other times. I never wore glasses; that is an outstanding accomplishment given that I got my glasses at 10 and my contact lenses at 19.

We only graduated from school; we never attended it. Except for a picture of Richard's graduating from St. Martha's, there are no pictures of our schools. You would never realize we attended three different high schools and three different grammar schools. According to the pictures, we never studied, never read a book, never went to the library, never participated in any after school activity. Richard was a drummer; I was a baton twirler. Peter started playing the accordion at his second wedding. Our family pets are very neglected. I gave up trying to figure out how many cats we had and what they looked like. Familes who call their cats "cat" don't waste film on them.

Relationships are neglected. Mom and Dad never kissed one another after their wedding or hugged us after babyhood. During our childhood we always wore pajamas for photographs. Dad was rarely there because he was always behind the camera. Mom was never pregnant or nursing, an accomplishment even more amazing than my never wearing glasses. No one was ever filthy, battered, bloody. Anne was only my friend during school graduations. Bob Logan seems to have been Richard's and Stephen's only friend. Jackie only appears once while she and Peter were in high school. The siblings related to each other by lining up in size order.

Christmas Eve at Grandma's House

My daughter the writer wrote this description of a family Christmas Eve as part of a college application essay.

We’re in the midst of our annual Christmas Eve tree-trimming bash at my grandmother’s house. My father and my uncle Gerry are bringing in the tree, and my sisters and I are breathlessly awaiting its unveiling. I’m afraid that the reason is not that we’re waiting for this magical season to weave its spell over us. We get as sentimental as anyone over Christmas, but right now we’re wondering what geometric figure the tree will most closely resemble. My grandmother is very frugal. The result of this is that her trees are always cheap, but they also tend to have rather original shapes.

They bring the tree through the door, set it in the stand, and cut the netting around it. It does not disappoint. It’s, it’s...it’s nearly a perfect cylinder! My sisters and I begin hanging the ornaments. They consist of a few beautiful heirlooms, some traditional Christmas balls, many, many plastic multi-colored plastic disco balls, and a good number of styrofoam-and-yarn-elves which have been mysteriously decapitated over the years.

The traditional meal of tortilla chips and salsa is served. Much to everyone’s chagrin, but to no one’s surprise, Grandma has frozen the salsa. She has a rather touching faith that the best thing to do for any, and I do mean any, food is to stick it in the freezer for six months. Fortunately, the chips escaped unscathed.

My father places the angel on top of the tree, and we step back and admire our handiwork. It’s may not be one of man’s great artistic endeavors, but this tree has character, lots of character.

July 27, 1945

Somewhere in France
Friday, July 27, 1945

Dear George,

Here I thought I was going to surprise you with the news of the arrival of my daughter on the 17th of this month. Instead you and Mark beat me to the punch by announcing your wedding to take place in September.

Congratulations George--after sixteen months and twenty-one days of wedded bliss ,I'm more than ever convinced that marriage is wonderful. My Mary and I are happier than ever be
because of our brand new daughter. According to the latest reports our Mary-Jo looks exactly llke my Mrs and not the least bit like her dad so she is going to be a real pretty little girl.

Again I'm saying am I surprised! So the last of the old yearbook committee is finally taking that step. I'm sure you and Mary will be happy--there's something about being married to a Mary that guarantees it. Even if she is my sister, I think you're a lucky man, George. There won't be a dull moment at your place with Mary around--I know there never was at the Koches. The gal can talk or have you discovered that for yourself? I like them beautiful and talkative myself--I forget you've already met my Mrs. It will be nice having you for a brother-in-law George and I 'm not saying that because we can use a dentist in the family.

Mary tells me you've stationed permanently at Lovell General, you lucky dog. I bet you're glad to exchange Massachusetts for India. How was it there? I'm over here in a "vacation" camp hoping that the Japs decide to give up. On the whole I've had it pretty easy over in the ETO. My only contribution to the war effort was a six week period on d.s. at a PW hospital. Aided by a staff of German PW'S I functioned as a registrar's office. It was nice work but it didn't last long enough. I was lucky enough to get a three-day pass to Paris last week. Paris is really a beautiful city and I was a regular tourist seeing all the sights: Notre Dame, Arc de Triumphe, the Louvre with its Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo, a boat ride on the Seine, a tour of Versailles, the Montmartre, the Folies Bergere, the Opera, the Opera Comique, and a host of other high spots.

I sure would like to get home to your wedding but I'm afraid that the army and the Japanese won't cooperate. I hear the two of you will start housekeeping right away. Although we already have a family, my Mary and I still have that experience in front of us. I'll probably be coming to you or Mary for advice. However you tell Mary that she better not try pulling your rank ton the Joe Koches.

Congratulations again, I say, and mine and Mary's best wishes for lots of happiness to the two of you.

Sincerely,
Joe