As a native South African photographer who has recently moved to the U.S., I know that New Hampshire is famous for 3 things:
1. Its drumbeat ‘Live Free or Die’ state motto
2. Granite
3. The first state to hold party primaries on the long road to presidential elections
But what I didn’t know was that I would run into film camera buffs at every turn
On a wintry February morning after a decent snowfall, I drove out of Boston and headed north on highways that alternated between slushy and icy. I was headed to New Hampshire to experience and photograph the spirit of main street democracy during primary season and chose a classic-looking diner in Keene at random. Unbeknownst to me, Lindy’s Diner has been a well-known stop for campaigning politicians since the 70s. Great place to start.
Seated at the table to my right were the Graham men tucking into traditional diner fare. The ‘boys’ – men in their 50s or 60s – had returned to Keene for their mother’s burial and to sort out their father’s living arrangements. The older son laughed about being short and pear shaped while his brother was a tall strapping man who wore his Marine Corps belt with pride and carried a well-worn Marine sniper medal with him at all times. He said he had spent three straight years in Vietnam, preferring not to take breaks from the fighting, as he feared that he would get killed while settling back into the ways of war.
At the table to my left were Matthew and Rosemary, proud Donald Trump supporters who had just returned from casting their vote at the rec center. Matthew struck up a conversation on seeing my Horseman 985 taking up what little table space was left with the piles of creamer, sugar, sweeteners, ketchup and other diner staples. The Horseman is the kind of camera that kick-starts conversations. A patron seated at the lunch counter sent the veteran waitress back with a query – ‘could I still find the unusual size sheet film that it shoots?’ That led to a whole discussion about the value of family pictures captured on film as opposed to precarious digital. The middle-aged man nodded sagely when she eventually returned with the news that the camera could also take 120 roll film.
Finally finishing a fine omelet, I walked out, and as I was packing away the camera into the bag on the back lot, a man leaving the diner approached and told me he had two 35mm film cameras as well as the iconic Pentax 67 that he still shot on.
Pleasantly surprised at this plethora of film aficionados, I wondered if it was a retro throwback peculiar to Keene, a town closer to Vermont than the Atlantic. Outside was the presidential candidate of the American Party of America touting his shtick. The primaries were of no concern to him, as that is only an internal Republican and Democratic Party matter, but he saw it as the right place to get some media and perhaps sway a voter or two. I would call his case hopeless, but some of the polls show that clearly nothing is impossible.
Following back roads through snow-decked hills, I eventually came to Concord, the state capitol, just as the sun was dropping toward the horizon. Checking out the high school gym where Bernie Sanders was to appear later that night, I was surprised to see journalists already in place at three o’clock, and they were all being asked to go outside again for a secret service security check. Life is too short and I decided to stick to my half-formed resolution to avoid trying to get any images of the politicians themselves.
Outside a nearby voting station, a handsome man in an expensive overcoat strode up to me as I was setting up the camera on a tripod and said, “Is that a Linhof?” I was delighted, the Horseman is indeed very similar looking, being a slightly modified copy of the Linhof Technika, which was the first all-metal folding field camera (1934). Once inside, two different men approached me about the camera and what brand of film I was using, “Will you process later tonight?” one asked.
Now looking back, it is clear that New Hampshire is home to more than just granite and the nation’s first primary, but also of film camera buffs. For this alone, they deserve to be granted the right to choose the nation’s next president. Perhaps not.