Lost, not found

In 1998, on my first trip to NYC, accompanied by my friend James, I met Timothy J. and Timmy in person for the first time. Another special someone suggested I do one really touristy thing while there, so he took Tim and me to the top of the Empire State Building.

I’d taken my Canon 35mm on my trip, but it was large, so I purchased a smaller Canon in NYC that slipped easily into my coat pocket.

It also slipped easily out of my coat pocket, into the back of a cab, with a finished roll of film inside that included most of my great photos of the Tims as well as my shots of the Special Someone with Tim and me at the Empire State Building.

Occasionally, I try out various phrases in Google pictures to see if anyone developed my film and tried to get the pictures back to me. Amazingly, this actually happens for lots of other sad tourists. If only craigslist had existed back in 1998.

One thought on “Lost, not found”

  1. Losing pictures is awful. On my fridge I keep a picture I took from the top of the Empire State Building…fall of 1994 I think. Oddly enough, now that I think about it, I don’t know where the rest of the pictures from that roll would be.

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