Some Positive Negatives
Parts of local film store, Dot Dotson’s, attic can feel haphazard, with vintage camera equipment, Oregon Duck paraphernalia, and dusty cardboard boxes scattered across the dimly lit upstairs room. e
That is one of the rooms, but towards the back and through the door labeled “keep shut” are nearly 100 steel filing cabinets, labeled alphabetically and by year, housing a film negative of every child born at Sacred Heart Hospital from the year 1956 to 1999.
Film conservator, Anette Pfautz, carefully thumbs through the year 1979 in search of one photo notated “cutie”. She remarked, “Because they had photographed so many babies I’m sure they’d thought ‘oh this one’s cute’ so they put ‘cutie’ on the envelope.”
This massive collection had rested in this attic undisturbed for two decades before a conversation at Anette’s knitting group had unearthed them for public consumption.
After developing a photo for a friend in the group Pfautz had realized the potential of her collection and the emotional resonance of seeing a never before seen photo from the moment of our birth.
Pfautz burst out into laughter as I asked about her moment of realization, “[I thought] oh that’s cool, I didn't expect it to be so emotional but now I get it”.
She had spent years trying to market the collection but it didn’t seem to reach much traction in the local Eugene community, partially because she was advertising in the newspaper, which according to Pfautz “nobody reads anymore”.
So she took to Facebook making a post that she didn’t think much of, until she had checked the next day and it had reached over 15,000 interactions.
This wave of interaction originally overwhelmed Pfautz’s capabilities as overnight close to 400 orders were placed, but it set her hard to work reconnecting Eugene with their lost photos.
“I do feel a responsibility to touch them up and make them feel nice,” Pfautz noted, “That’s our origin, where we first show personality, it places us in time and history.”
And these photos have become especially valuable to those who have lost the original copies from the maternity ward or those who couldn’t afford them at the time.
Helen Tendick, a mother of four, had moved to Eugene at 22, leaving Wisconsin on a cold snowy day, by train, heading west with nothing more than her two-year-old daughter Andrea and a suitcase.
She made a home for herself in Eugene where she would have two more children at Sacred Heart Hospital, Kacinda and Nicholaus, before moving to Washington for a short stint where she had her youngest daughter Rebecca.
“When they were babies I held them very tight, like I said I’m from Wisconsin and when I came out here I wanted to start my own little family, I cherished them very tight, that’s when our closeness started,” Tendick remarked
Tendick originally couldn’t afford the baby photos at the hospital, opting to keep her own record of photos from their infancy, storing them in a barn at her home in Washington.
However, one morning Tendick woke up to find t hat hogs had been let into the barn and they destroyed all of her photo albums, completely ruining every photo she had of her children.
“I couldn’t salvage anything,” she said, “[when] the hogs got to them they destroyed all of our stuff.”
Her loss was compounded by the loss of her son Nicholaus who passed away suddenly at the age of 32. Tendick for many years deeply wished that she had a record of Nicholaus as a child.
“When I heard about what Dot Dotson’s was doing something about us get our pictures back, I jumped the gun, I jumped on it, and called in right away, because I had lost my pictures,” Tendick mentioned.
“Nick left behind two sons who look just like him, I can’t wait to show them this photo of him,” she exclaimed.
Her daughter Kacinda is also looking forward to taking advantage of the Dot Dotson’s opportunity as she has two children of her own born at Sacred Heart.
“I never got the chance to order them when they were born, so I did now, and I’m excited to see them,” Kacinda gushed.
Helen’s “little” family has grown immeasurably as Helen is now a grandmother and a great-grandmother, and family still plays the most crucial role in her life. With Kacinda’s help Helen looks after all of her great-grandchildren and keeps a lot of love in the family
“I feel responsible for preserving the history in my family,” Tendick says. “I want to make sure my grandkids and great-grandkids know.”
Every year Helen gathers her family for Nicholaus celebration of life, a chili cookoff, which he inspired before he passed. She always brings her photo collage of him, which she plans on finding a spot for his new baby photo from Dot Dotson’s.
Film photography continues to hold a special place in many people’s hearts as it has a feeling and t aesthetic that isn’t replicated digitally.
Like Pfautz says, “The advantage of film is it’s not perfect. Digital is a little too perfect.”
And film is making a resurgence, especially among younger people who, according to an Ilford Photo survey, shoot more film than digital, with nearly 70% of those surveyed <44 shooting more film than digital.
“[with] film it’s not a fad, every year we see an increase every year in the film business that we are doing,” Pfautz remarked.
Dot Dotson’s continues to serve members of the community, like Helen, even 90 years after its founding in 1931.
“I hope we can keep Dot Dotson’s going because it's such an icon in the community now,” Pfautz admired, “We’ve been here a long time and we are hoping to keep it going for a while.”