Predawn, Inauguration Day

Laura took this shot as we arrived at the Iwo Jima memorial before 6 a.m. on January 20th, 2009. It’s funny to think tonight of how cold it was then. The memorial was the vantage point for several paintings of the Inauguration Day sunrise, such as the two at the top of the page here, and several more in the gallery.

Del died May 15th, 2008, at his home in Great Falls, and I visited with him for the last time, three days earlier. I know Del would have enjoyed the inauguration sunrise/sunset project, and the way things turned out. May 2008 was near the end of the presidential primaries. The last words I remember from him: “I’m so sick of all this Obama and Clinton crap!”

Del Ankers, Photographer, Part 1

Copyright © Maria Elizabeth Freire

Tonight’s main post (August 1st) refers to my uncle Del Ankers, who was born on this date in 1916. The photos here aren’t meant to even try to do justice to his life, personality and career – which is why I’ve included links to both the obit and a special remembrance in the Washington Post – but rather they’re meant to celebrate a little connection between his experience and mine, something he might have enjoyed.

In Del’s photo above, the sculptor of the Iwo Jima memorial, Felix de Weldon, is showing the work in his studio to a visiting class of students.

(U.S. elementary school students of a certain era, note the ‘safety patrol’ badges on a couple of the kids.)

I believe the Marines in the sculpture here are positioned just the way they are now, in Arlington.

Copyright © Maria Elizabeth Freire

In this shot of de Weldon modeling the head of one of the Marines (and no, I don’t know if this is one of the veterans of Mount Suribachi, although I guess it’s possible), I’ve always thought the face at this stage resembles Paul McCartney a little more than it does the guy sitting there.

The funny thing was, when Laura and I got to the memorial before dawn on Inauguration Day (see next post, above), and looked up into those bronze faces, as finished by de Weldon and as seen from below the likeness was uncanny. We could recognize de Weldon’s, and Del’s, subject immediately.