My father wanted to be the next Walker Evans or Robert Frank.
My mother remembers it differently.
"Instead of paying the dentist, your father spent a lot of money on an expensive camera so he could take pictures of people without their heads or feet."
As bad as my father was with his Minolta, he was good with the scrapbooking. Long before Photoshop, Dad could stitch photos together better than a madman making a ransom note out of newspapers.
Dad shot this rock quarry in Michigan in 1970. The "stitching" was done with Scotch Tape and scissors. It is awesome.
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