In late November 2006, my grandfather, Roy, passed away at 70 years of age. I was 8 years old.
Grandad Roy had passed away suffering from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD), including emphysema, bronchitis, tuberculosis and asbestosis.
This condition, was accelerated by an incident that occurred when Roy was working as a coal miner. The coal face collapsed on top of him one day and he was pinned on his knees under the coal and rubble until he was rescued. The weight crushing against his chest and compromising his lungs. From then on he never slept in complete darkness.
My memories of Grandad Roy are so fleeting and, as a consequence, I have only ever remembered him as a very unwell man.
When clearing out my Nanna's attic in 2020, I found an old passport photo of Grandad Roy, presumably used for one of his fishing licences. I couldn't believe it at first, he looked so... healthy.
His piercing wide eyes staring at me, looking as if he had just walked off the set of Mad Men.
I was transported back almost 15 years with forgotten memories resurfacing, driving me to want to know more. My grandad, the man I barely knew, who was he? What kind of person was he?
In 2023 my dad gave me a collection of really old family negatives, most of them held together by tape, the corners of the celluloid folded in on itself, covered in scratches and cuts. To the naked eye it was really unclear as to what the images would produce.
To the naked eye it was really unclear as to what the images would produce. Despite how heavily worn down the negatives were, I started to scan them in.
The magic happened in the first scan, a photo of two men laughing and skating.
This photo is bursting with personality. A moment of spontaneity captured perfectly.
It took me a second to realise that I was looking at Grandad Roy, when he was my age!
From the markings on the negatives, I could deduce that the film stock was Kodak Verichrome Safety Film, produced between 1931 - 1956, or Verichrome Pan, 1956 - 2002.
This particular stock and its production dates would place my Grandad in his early-mid twenties.
I carried on, scanning everything I could get my hands on.
I found photos of my Nanna, Jean, which I had never seen before. Seemingly photos from the beginning of Nanna and Grandad's relationship.
Alongside photos of my Nanna and Grandad, there were some rather entertaining photos from countless trips to the local pub.
There were remnants of Grandad's hobbies, scattered among tattered pieces of paper.
Fishing was his go to, I can still remember the old airing cupboard with his waders, fishing poles and wellies. I remember the time he showed me the fishing bait in his shed, a box full of maggots crawling around everywhere - I was horrified!
