Wearing Well
March 3, 2012 * * * * * Posted by: guest blogger 
I grew up loving to hear my Granddaddy Park laugh. He had this joy of living that never failed to lift my spirits. A simple man, uneducated, he grew up in North Carolina in the late 1800’s and moved to South Carolina to ply his trade in all sorts of ways. He sold magazine subscriptions. He could fix you up with an insurance policy. He was a beekeeper. But the job that captured my imagination and, I believe, was a spark that set me to love wandering around the countryside whenever I can, was as a mapmaker. He rode the dirt roads of the northwestern section of the state in a horse-drawn buggy, fording creeks and tying up at hitching posts in little towns for a bite of lunch, as he drew out on paper his best reckoning for where the road along the south border of the Robinson’s place ran into the Pickens-to-Cowpens highway.
He would sneak me a draw from his ubiquitous pipe or thin cigar whenever my parents weren’t around. He would stop the old alarm clock that ticked so loudly from its perch on the mantle, so that I could fall asleep at night. He took me fishing and let me “rob” the beehives. He would go up to perfect strangers on the sidewalk, thrust out his hand, and say “Howdy. My name’s Park. What’s yours?” How could you not love a man like that.
His house was old, small, and tidy. It had its own sounds and smells. It had stood the test of time, just like Granddaddy Park. He died 15 years or so after Grandmother did, at the age of 88, playing bridge with 3 ladies from the senior citizens club, when his pacemaker gave out.
I wanted to be like him. To live nobly, simply, to wear well. To be the kind of person other folks looked up to and wondered how he had found that center, that “ah ha” understanding of life and values and meaning. He looked good old. He sounded good old. His aging body only showcased his growing wisdom and solidity.
I’ve always loved old people and old things. Buildings. Automobiles. Trains. Bibles. Pipes. Books. Beliefs. There’s just something about time that takes care of whatever is good and deserves to last. Even as temporal things like people and objects grow older, weaker, and decay, we/they take on a new, more earned beauty.
There’s a natural vibrancy to the young, the new. All new cars are shiny. The leather seats have a smell that is hard to beat. First residents of a new home enjoy the fact that nothing is worn. Not the carpets, nor the paint, and plumbing all works. Teenagers have unbounded energies that spring from sinews, organs, and systems designed by God to last much longer.
But all of that fades. Especially with things, sometimes not so well, but often in a way that brings out a color that wasn’t there before. A texture that begs to be touched. An intermingling with other colors and textures that can’t be thought up. It just happens and never in the same way twice. In this way, they continue to serve us, even though they’ve been left by us in some final position, some parting attitude. They give us a different kind of beauty, and they often stir up memories, usually good ones. They just beg to be photographed.
And so, like Granddaddy Park, I wander around the country, enjoying being alive, looking for whatever catches my eye. Which so often are old things. Beautiful, rich old things. Incomparable, irreplaceable old things.
May we all wear this well.
(if you’re drawn, like me, to old things, I’ve tried to capture a few of them with the camera and they’re on my website Jerry Park Photography under the “Used Up” tab.)
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Special guest post today comes to us from Tennessee by Jerry Park. Check out his stunning photographic work at Jerry Park Photography. Thank you for joining us here today - Jerry - and for sharing your wonderful memories.
Reader Comments (17)
This is such a beautiful post, Jerry, and one sentence completely resonates with me, "I've always loved old people". I do, too, and I have often looked for the company of them, to hear their wisdom and their deep and rich life experience. I love hearing stories from a totally different time. I like to look at old faces, see the wrinkles and the beauty in these faces. Just like old trees...
I wish I had known your Granddaddy Park.
Having seen your images first, Jerry, oohing and aahing over them, I should have known (but wasn't expecting) your verbal vision to be just as exciting. WOW! I can hear someone exclaim, "He's a photographer AND a writer!"
I love it, all of it. And the minute I saw "his best reckoning," I saw my own dad and my own southern roots from South Carolina. My granddaddy even had a city named after him (Hartsville) and after I read about yours, I wondered if a city was named after him?! I bet! What a heritage for you. Thank you for sharing this with us. I sure hope you'll come back again!
This is so beautiful Jerry!! Love how you've described your love for old people and old things. Your grandfather comes alive in your words...I can feel his presence right here and now.
There is so much wisdom and beauty and elegance and grace in age. May we all grow into it with an appreciation of all of its gifts!!!
Thank-you..thank-you for joining us here today!
Jerry IS a special and talented person. I'm so fortunate to be able to call him 'friend.' He shared is photography web site, where you can savor his stunning photography, but he didn't share the blog where more of his insightful thoughts can be read. You might want to visit http://jerrypark.wordpress.com.
Thank you, Jerry, for joining us today. I hope you'll come back again some time!
Hey Jerry, I enjoyed your words so much, I knew I would as soon as that gorgeous image came up. I share your love of old so it will be a pleasure to check out more of your photography ~ thanks for being here today.
Granddaddy Park sounds like an amazing man and he has left you with so many wonderful memories. I too love to spend time with older people, they have wisdom and life experiences that I can learn from and I find them interesting to listen too.
loved the photo and the sentiment. how not? i have spent 6 years working on a book about my aunt who's soon to be 93! worn but not out...the cliche seems to fit...thank you for this terrific post and inspiration.
Vibrant...in image and imagery. This is a great post. Thanks!
Beautiful vision and verb. Thanks for sharing
Your love of wandering in Tennessee is just like mine in Texas. The more isolated the road and the smaller the town, the better. What fun it would have been to roam with your grandfather. Thank you for your story today, and especially for your efforts to capture all the old things!
Gorgeous shot to go with your post! Had a look at your site and I must say I do LOVE your photography! And thanks for sharing your memories: I really enjoyed the read, made me think of Sherwood Anderson's short stories. Welcome on board! :)
What a wonderful post and one that hits close to home for me as well having grown up on a farm in Southwestern Virginia. I checked out your website and your photos are just beautiful. I especially love "Out of Tune" and the ones with empty chairs. I have started a collection of those myself, but haven't captured ones as stunning as yours though! Ever since I was a little girl I've collected old things from my grandparents and now my parents. They are all treasures and it's so nice to come across someone that has the same passion. Lovely post!
This is a beautiful post, I, too, am drawn to old, aged things, textures, well-worn stories. and your photo is simply stunning. I am off to view more of your work!
This is a gorgeous essay. It's our desire to wear well. I wish for my kids to see me as wise and to grow more sage in their eyes...
Your Granddaddy Park sounded like a true adventurer and it must have been fun being his grandchild. Welcome to Verb and Vision Jerry, thank you for sharing your love of old things and their timeless beauty :-)
I never met any of my grandparents but your grandfather was what I always imagined a grandparent should be. And since I just took a beekeeping class last weekend, I would have loved to have had someone with experience to have gotten me started. Since I'm a country girl at heart, stuck in the city, I truly love your tractor photo and many of the photos I found on your site. The sky looks so dramatic in so many of your black and whites. Maybe its the angle of them, the largeness of open spaces that come through. And I love the photo of the grand piano in the room with chairs. It makes me wonder about the music that must have occurred while the piano was in its prime. Similarly, I often look at people, wondering what experiences along the way have made them who they are today. I'm so glad you had the influence of your wonderful grandfather.
My thoughts just flew away into the past. Thank you.