The Falling Hammer
"A man was building what seems to be a foundation for some sort of expansion of the Highway Inn. It may have been a hot day and his hands were sweating. It may have been early morning with a vicious hangover following a long night of drinking. Or it may simply have been an accident."
Above: The Highway Inn in 1928 via | Shorpy |
Fredericksburg, Virginia, circa 1928. "Brick house, Princess Anne Street."
One of the things to love about old photos is that they sometimes freeze moments we don't even notice at the time. Here's a moment I noticed in passing. Happened back in 1928, or thereabouts.
A man was building what seems to be a foundation for some sort of expansion of the Highway Inn. It may have been a hot day and his hands were sweating. It may have been early morning with a vicious hangover following a long night of drinking. Or it may simply have been an accident.
No matter. At the moment the carpenter's hammer slipped, the photographer's shutter tripped ... and you have this small little misstep -- a hammer midway between heaven and earth (Aren't we all?) frozen for all time.
We die with the dying:
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration. A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. -- Eliot, Quartets
The house? It survives to this day, even though it has been moved from its 1928 location in Fredricksburg, Virginia.
It's found a new place on a quiet sidestreet in town where our cars park in front of it and around it and the world rolls on in its metalled ways of time future and time past.
And on some days, even today, I note it sports a snazzy "Don't Tread on Me" flag.....
