Lenny & his Leica

Copyright Len Harris 1984

Friday, January 1, 2021

I unboxed the Wolverine to the sounds of Sade - Diamond Life and sang along as I set things up. It went smoothly, like Sade’s voice. I decided to take out the slides that were in Lenny’s slide projector carousel. At first, I thought they were intentionally numbered so I started organizing them in sequence. But I soon realized that the numbers were random and repeated themselves. (I know, what an amateur I am!) I felt foolish for a minute and then just moved on, knowing that there is no way of knowing whether Lenny had kept the slides in any special order. I quickly reminded myself that there is no way I can get this project “100% right”, exactly as Lenny had wanted it.

But I made the decision to read through Lenny’s Tugs binder in the afternoon to gain some perspective.

I switched the record to Wham! Music from the Edge of Heaven, listening to the Hot & then the Cool side as I converted the first 30 slides successfully. I worried about quality and initially, as they uploaded onto my laptop, they all looked blurry. I felt a piercing in my heart but after a few moments, the computer corrected itself and the images shifted into focus. And when I clicked on one, it became a bit larger and even a bit sharper. As I scrolled through the images, I noticed that some of them were backwards but I figured there was a way to fix that without having to re-scan. When I mentioned it to OG, he came up and within a minute, was able to invert (flip?) the images. He also recommended that I create a folder to separate/organize the images. And then he was ghost.

By the time I finished my session, it was noon. I had been in the attic for 2 straight hours. Moving forward, now that I know the ropes, the scanning process should move fairly swiftly. I know I could have bought a multi-slide scanner but I more than kind of enjoy the leisurely process of going through each of Lenny’s slides. I feel as though it will teach me things and that I will begin to see patterns.

So, yeah. 30 down. about 1300 to go.

After lunch, I took some time to look over the images and read some of the writing in the blue binder. Before doing so, I ordered some Samsill plastic page protectors and oversized slips by Ultra Pro for the printed photos in the binder. I also couldn’t resist conducting a quick search for both “Ken Hansen” and “Jan Stacy.” My search for “Ken Hansen photographer” yielded a lot of results. And I was also assuming he was a photographer. I added “New York” to the field, figuring if that didn’t narrow things down, I would just wait to ask one or more of Lenny’s friends. But I just happened upon an article that referenced “Ken Hansen’s Business” with mention of it being located in New York City. What really pulled me in were the words, “Leica orders” in relation to the business conducted at the store. I remember my parents telling me about Lenny’s Leica, how he had to sell it to pay a debt, how difficult that had been for him.

Returning to the article, it stated that the store would be reopening as a way of honoring Ken Hansen’s memory - so there was my answer. Ken Hansen had passed away. I decided to send an email to the address listed as the contact for placing orders. Apparently, Hansen’s son-in-law had decided to oversee the business so that would allow me to contact a family member. The article is dated June 17, 2019. I started to feel sad and a bit frustrated by the fact that I would not have the chance to tell Ken Hansen that Lenny had intended to recognize him in his book, that he was grateful for his support and friendship. But I am working on not allowing regret and “woulda shoulda” to occupy my mind much anymore. I am in the present and I am going to move forward.

Before dinner, I managed to send out that email before switching to a search for Jan Stacy that got a bit dizzying and the only match that kept popping up was a New York Times Obituary about a published author who had died of AIDS in 1989, at the age of 41. He had lived in NYC but it seemed like a long shot, even though my uncle was social and had met/photographed a few famous musicians.

After the kids went to bed and OG turned in, I made my way back up to the attic and sat on the little round backless stool in front of my little custom-made (by OG) desk under the sloped ceiling. I was tired but I wanted to keep going. As I fought fatigue by trying to edit an image in Squarespace, I saw it: some sort of beetle bug. And anyone close to me knows how I feel about bugs, especially those of “considerable” size and/or speed. It was crawling on the desk before it decided to crawl onto the top of the screen of my laptop. And then (and then!), beetlebug felt the need to fly (its sudden buzzing causing an extra sharp needle pierce to my heart) onto a nearby black & white photo of Lenny. I watched the bug for some time, trying to figure out what to do about beetlebug who was up in my workspace, messing with my energy. I ended up spending several more minutes looking at her (or him). I noticed its long super thin legs, its shell that kind of looked like a smallish brown leaf and the yellowish bump on its end (maybe it was pregnant?).

Anyhow, after a time, I lurched into action. I took the cover of small empty cardboard box that was nearby and I placed it (quite abruptly and clumsily) on top of the creature as it was momentarily stationary on the same photo of Lenny, that luckily was resting on top of a couple of thick notebooks. I grabbed the back cover of the bottom book and carried it all (including beetlebug) all the way down two flights of stairs and out onto the side deck. I then freed the bug by flailing everything into the midnight blueness. Although it was drizzling and I did not actually see where the darned creature ended up, I imagine s/he found some cozy dry nook to go to and hunker down in until the rain let up.

So, why relay this story? Well, it’s a new year and I am determined to follow the advice of the late Eleanor Roosevelt who urged us all to, “Do One Thing Every Day That Scares You.”