For 4 years I diligently studied history at Fordham University. By graduation I could tell you anything about the reformation period. I would dive in and dispute and indulge in the many lectures about the times. It was an unusual passion, but I felt like I lived in the period after so much research. Skip forward (dare I say) 17 years and what is frighteningly apparent is that all I can remember about the Reformation is what I just read on Wikepedia. Sigh…. Since I seem to have no long-term memory or short-term memory for that matter, then why is history still important to me? The realization hit me square in the forehead as I walked into a cobwebbed filled barn today. The history of this place could not be hidden although it was only a shell of its former self. But it’s importance literally waved me inside. Just minutes before, I had driven down the road to knock on the door of the farm’s elderly owner. He wondered why I would want to photograph his old place? To me it was a masterpiece, while to the old farmer, it represented family, hard work and a lifetime of memories. Unsurprised, I could understand it’s name of Sunshine Farm. As I would wander through it’s worn entrance, sunshine would creep through the aged slats allowing diffused light to filter throughout. The welcome light would highlight some of the tools that were so vital to the building and the job it once had. The only regular residents now were some barn cats and some nested birds that hid high in the rafters. These critters would descend from generations before and would not understand why this place no longer held it’s value in modern times. Yet they still dwelled here enjoying its importance in their own lives. As I lugged the tripod throughout, I knew that I was somehow capturing its history despite it’s modern demise. Like Scooby Doo and the Dream Machine, I would find little clues to the way things once were. Milk bottles, tattered overalls, pitchforks, milk canisters, crates and barrels were scattered throughout. I wondered if this is where the idea “Crate and Barrel would come about? We feel connected to the past by interpreting old places like this. This building is proof alone to the people it affected, how they ate and got their sustenance. They knew where their food came from and where the buck stopped. When the milk truck would come by, your needs would be answered. How sad it is that so rarely do we even know of where our food comes from today. Will I photograph Stop and Shop? I think not. History is important even if it’s filled with cobwebs. It tells us of our past so we can rethink our future. I am happy to have captured just a little piece of it today.