Every Picture Tells a Story

Julie Hancock

Do you ever get the feeling that you’re your own worst enemy? Well, I’ve got it now, as I sit here, well beyond the deadline – my own deadline - trying to compose a rambling for this week’s News You Can Use. 

When Mother Katie first mentioned the idea of the staff and members of the church writing ramblings to fill in for Father Tom while he is away on sabbatical, I immediately leapt at the suggestion, because it seemed like such a worthy endeavor and I actually had an idea for a rambling in mind. Then I had another idea, and another, and another. And the days went by one by one, without one word ever being recorded.

So here I am on Wednesday, June 9, at 7:30 pm and I’m going back to my original idea. I want to tell you about my love for photos and what an important part of my life they’ve been. 

Some of you may know that I do a lot of photography for Christ Church and many of you have been the willing and unwilling subjects of my photos. I try to shoot just about every important occasion that I can, because I believe in the power of the old adage that “a picture is worth a thousand words” when I’m putting together the weekly newsletters. I can bloviate on for ten paragraphs and not tell you as much as the smiling photo of a toddler with an Easter Basket full of plastic eggs or a group shot of our Flower Guild members hard at work on Christmas decorations can tell you. Photos can tell marvelous stories.*

I started learning to love the stories behind the pictures from my grandmother, when I was about 8 years old. In her wonderful old house in Forsyth, Georgia, she kept many, many things, including a large square hat box, (which probably came from Rich’s, just a short train ride away in Atlanta), full of old photos. When she wasn’t running around like a woman possessed, preparing feasts of southern favorites for her guests to eat, she would sit down with me and we’d go through the contents of the box. I asked about every person in every picture and she would tell who they were, where they were, what they were doing and, of course, who was related to whom. Even the most mundane stories were fascinating to me. A simple photo from the 1930s of my mother playing on the swings at her school was the starting point of many stories about the old Banks Stevens School, where generations of the women in my family taught, which also contained a very exciting circular fire escape slide inside. To this day, I have a mental image of my mother gleefully sliding down that slide.

As I’ve gotten older and have lost every member of my family from the generations that preceded mine, it has become clear to me how important people’s stories are. Photos are a great catalyst for telling stories, but many folks have stories to tell that require no props. I believe that listening to someone’s story, whether they’re 90 or 19 months, is how we show that person that we value who they are and what they have to say. If you’re like me, you feel like your life has been enriched when you’ve been given the gift of someone’s story. Granted, they’re not always happy, but an unhappy story shared is easier to bear, when you have someone to share it with. 

I’ve only rambled a fraction of the way through my tale, but it’s getting late and I know a good deal of you like to read your news on Wednesday night, instead of Thursday morning, so I’ll wrap things up here.

I suppose the main point of what I wanted to say is that I am incredibly blessed to be a part of the Christ Church family, where I’ve met so many fascinating and kind people in the five and a half years I’ve been here. I always love to hear any stories you’re willing to share. Thank you for letting me photograph you (with and without masks). You are such an important part of the Christ Church story and I’m glad I’m here to listen and retell your stories. May God bless you and keep you in His loving embrace.

* Take a trip down memory lane! You can see the archive of Christ Church photo albums from 2016 to 2021 HERE.