Been doing a lot of photo work recently. Here are a few teasers of samples coming soon.

As I move forward in this new venture I’ve recently put to bed my old motor sport site horsepowerheaven.com.

It was not an easy move to make, but now that it’s done I’m more than content with sticking to the decision of ending it.

My friend Bob Wilson posted a humbling goodbye to HH on his Northern Thunder site:

“Even though this was a case of simply waiting for the other shoe to drop, the finality of the ending of the much loved, revered, and visited Horsepower Heaven website was still a shock. After 15 years of being the true “go-to” place on the web for all things drag racing, especially when it concerned the Northwest U.S. and Western Canada, the site and the writing and editorializing and photography of Larry Pfister has disappeared into the ether.

There are still fragments of his work floating around in cyberspace and if you’re persistent enough in searching them out, his video work is still for sale, but for all intents and purposes, the site that spawned dozens of imitators, and had thousands of followers, has been silenced. I can only think that after all these years, Larry felt that HH had finally run its course and it was time to put it to rest and move on to other pursuits.” (more)

Seaside Times Magazine
I had the good fortune to be able to meet with local publisher Sue Hodgson who has just completed purchase of Sidney-based Seaside Times, a magazine covering ‘West Coast Culture’.

Hodgson’s background includes 17 years with Black Press, and Publisher of the prestigious Boulevard Magazine among other similar positions at name firms.

Seaside Times is a very slick publication that covers a multitude of local life and culture. Though mainly distributed on the Saanich Peninsula, it also goes out in the Sunday edition of the Times Colonist for Peninsula subscribers.

The publication reaches upwards of 20,000 readers twelve times a year and features all kinds of articles including a number of interesting historical stories and photos. I plan to put together some ideas in hopes of being published.

Hodgson was very gracious in explaining her past and how she came to this point in her career. She was full of positive ideas and advice that was of great value to me. Thanks very much and best wishes for the growth and success of Seaside Times!

Bike To Work Week Videos
After having way too much fun last year, I again took on the task of making a video record of the annual Bike To Work Week here in Victoria.

Five straight days plus the big City Hall Kickoff and separate Commuter Challenge made for a busy week as I hit at least one, sometimes two, celebration stations each morning and afternoon. From Veterans Memorial Park in Langford to UVIC, the Benkinsop Trestle and and many wonderful Victoria locales in between, it was another marvelous adventure in videography.

Today I received a keeper ‘Thank You’ from  the Bike to Work Week Victoria Board of Directors and Staff:

“The DVDs you created for the Launch and Celebration Stations were incredible. You captured the essence of the event which will help us showcase it in the future.

Thank you for being so generous and flexible with your time and expertise. We look forward to working with you on more projects to come.”

View the videos on their Youtube Channel at http://www.youtube.com/user/BiketoWorkVic#p/u

My personal thanks go out to all the super folks who make BTWW so popular, with special thanks to Marsha Petty-Johnson, Frank Hudson, Alan Perry and Rob Wickson, all of whom helped make my work look better.

Much more to post here in the coming days including my work with the Greater Victoria Art Gallery, some Victoria Chamber of Commerce items, more cycling coverage, and some way cool historical features all coming soon.

One may think that history and time flow together equally, but it too often feels like there’s never enough time to deal with all that history. As time simply goes by, that old history pile gets taller, wider and deeper.

I work closely with Super Services For Seniors here in Victoria. I meet people who have lived a lot of history. I see so many wonderful photographs, that too often make me cringe knowing that most of them will be put in a box for decades, or even worse, simply thrown away.

Perfectly exposed, tack sharp black & white images of beautiful places and mesmerizing people. As time moves swiftly into the second decade of a new century, the 1960s move into that hard-earned, ‘over fifty years ago’ part of the pile.

We move into the time when most family photographs, be they positives (slides) or negative-based (prints), went colour.

In just the past couple of months I have been involved with projects that require the duplication, presentation and preservation of a number of amazing photo collections. Some colour, many black & white. Most all of them small prints.

Before I get too much into everything I’ve been doing the past few months, I must share a few images (with very, very little or no info) that I fear may be lost to the public forever. I sincerely hope not, so I am showcasing a lady named Irene’s photography.

These images are a case of time taking on history, and Mr. T kicking serious H butt! You know the moral of the story right? Do this stuff now not later. Don’t wait until nobody knows your cool stuff and stories even exist, let alone they fade into time with no history.

I’ve been working on a number of projects that are proving to be a lot of fun and very, very interesting.

I’m currently working with a fabulous couple, he a WWII navy vet with some amazing stories and even more amazing photographs. He was a signalman on the top deck of two Corvettes, the famed Tribal class destroyer H.M.C.S. Haida and his collection of ‘stuff’ is truly historic. His wife was one of those war dancers who entertained the troops at bases all over the Canadian prairies, and she too kept a fabulous collection of photos and memorabilia that will all go together on video for a piece of history her family can enjoy for years to come.

On the motorsport front, I’ve posted a short clip from an interview we did back in 2002. Jim Livingston is a legend in Oregon drag racing, has a super memory and a delivery style that cannot help but entertain. He talks briefly about a time in 1958 when Madras was a club run track. His top end tale is one for the books. Please click here to view, or go to our Samples page here.

We also attended the Victoria Auto Racing Hall of Fame ceremony this past weekend and came away with video of an acceptance speech unlike anything I have ever witnessed before. You simply gotta see this one to believe it. Get ready to laugh and groan all at the same time.

We have more on the way, a few projects still to complete, but am always looking for somebody with a story who feels it important enough to put it on video for future generations. Think about it eh.

The Beagle Pub, like most such establishments in Victoria on nights when the Vancouver Canucks take to the ice, was jammed. Surprisingly, we found a great spot between two other couples.

On our right were two thirty somethings devouring a plate of nachos. On our left, a senior couple paying their bill, providing us a perfect place to move once they left.

Carol and I got into deep conversation, jousting to describe a long work day that had started some eleven hours earlier. As the couple to our left got up to leave, the contents of their table spilled gracefully onto the floor. We leaned over to assist giving Carol the chance to begin what she does so well – converse with strangers like they are old friends. The next thing we know, the four of us are into it about romantic evening walks home from bars.

Before she left, Isobel Maher, proudly gave me a copy of a four page newsletter titled ‘I Remember’ from The Cridge Club. Her photo was on page one beside the title ‘About My Father (I called him Daddy)’.

Now Isobel is one of those people full of life…I mean running over with the stuff. Her Scottish Burr as pronounced today as it probably was decades ago.

We enjoyed quite a few laughs in the few minutes we were together, hockey fans all around us cheering and groaning as the Vancouver boys lost a shoot out to the Sharks from the South Bay. It was when the couple (we never learned her partner’s name) left we both became aware of how special strangers can be.

The story she had penned for a small church newsletter proved to be inspiring praise about a man gone but not forgotten.

Amid the excitement of a sports crowd well lubricated with various shades of ale, I read aloud to Carol a short story that completely fascinated us. Here was a woman whose father was a stretcher bearer in the Great War, leading a family that lived in something out of The Hobbit.

I asked for and got Isobel’s e-mail. A couple days later she gave me permission to share her story. Posted word-for-word, these are Isobel’s words, taken from deep within a very big heart.

About My Father

John Joseph McFadden
(I called him Daddy)
By Isobel Maher

My father was born in Donegl Ireland, circa 1895. His parents left Ireland to escape the poverty, for a better life in Scotland. Ireland was dirt poor. They lived in Falkirk, where we went to visit them when my father was alive.

My father served as a stretcher bearer in World War I, carrying the wounded soldiers away from the guns and the horrible gas. He himself was left with lung disease and he died when he was only 40 years old. His commanding officer was going to recommend him for a medal but himself lost his life in combat before he could do it.

My father came from a staunchly Catholic family, and his parents did not approve of him marrying a Protestant girl, so my parents had to get married in a registration office. They had two children, my sister Nancy and me.

Our home was called ‘The Hut’, because it was not made of stone, but of wood. We had a shop at the front and our living quarters at the back. When I went to school I was ashamed of our address ‘The Hut’, because all the other children lived in stone houses.

Father tried everything to make a living. At different times he had a pool hall, a fruit lorry selling fruit, and he worked in the dye works. When he ended up in The Hut he was very ill with lung disease. When he was dying in hospital he had to have a Catholic wedding at the bedside so he could go to heaven and be buried in sacred ground, and for this my mother had to become Catholic too.

I remember his coffin brought into The Hut, then taken to the cemetery. I can still hear my mother’s wailing cries as the coffin left. Now she was left with two daughters and very little money. The Army pension was around two shillings a week.

The Catholic priests came to The Hut to try and convert Nancy and me, but we asked tough questions and did not like their answers. Nancy was 11, and I 8. The priests left, mission not accomplished. After that my Irish grandparents had nothing to do with us and passed us by on the street.

I would like to say:

Thank you Father,
You made our time together fun and loving.
Made no difference if I felt plain.
When my sister’s hair was curled and mine was straight;
When I looked sad you would say, “You’re lovely, Isa”.

Thank you for sending us to Sunday School,
letting us choose the religion we wanted.
Thank you for working so hard to keep us fed.
Hope you are safe in an angel’s arms in Heaven,
where you belong.

Welcome to the new blog for my company From Birth To Eternity Personal Histories.

This will be the place where you will be able to find out about all our new and exciting projects. I am still in the final phases of getting everything done before we launch.