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Note: The above photos are of the poet’s grandparents, Herbert W. & Evelyn Slater Tweedie in 1914
Wedding Picture; Glacier Point, Yosemite; Top of Pyramid Peak, Desolation Wilderness
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1914 Sierra Honeymoon
A picture’s worth a thousand words, they say;
A rock at Glacier Point, Yosemite.
Folks aren’t allowed to stand on it today
A rule that seems like common sense to me.
Yet, there they are, my father’s Mom and Dad,
Three thousand feet above the valley floor;
Together, risking everything they had;
A memory of life and love and more.
A nineteen-fourteen honeymoon where they
Climbed High Sierra peaks and camped and fished—
There were no limits then, back in the day—
When they could hike to any place they wished.
I only knew them when they both were old.
The pictures show them young, in love, and free.
And though they died with stories left untold,
Through pictures they still whisper tales to me.
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James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and three collections of poetry including Mostly Sonnets, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in The Lyric, Poetry Salzburg (Austria) Review, California Quarterly, Asses of Parnassus, Lighten Up Online, Better than Starbucks, Dwell Time, Light, Deronda Review, The Road Not Taken, Fevers of the Mind, Sparks of Calliope, Dancing Poetry, WestWard Quarterly, Society of Classical Poets, and The Chained Muse. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.
Those are three beautiful photographs, although I admit that the middle one actually made me uncomfortable. The two honeymooners had a lot of nerve!
It’s a true blessing to have those remembrances of them, more than a century old now. And your poem summons up (with pain) the memory of expansive personal freedom that existed back then, and which is now being strangled by governmental fiat.
Totally agree with Joe: wonderful pictures and a beautiful poem, highly evocative. I think for me, too, there is that extra resonance that comes from being British and knowing that in 1914 the Great War (in which my grandfather fought) started. The rock precipice on which they were standing – probably without a thought in the world about what was happening in Europe (and which would reach the US in 1917) – seems a massive symbol of the huge danger we were all unbeknowingly in. Thanks.
“..they still whisper tales to me.” Very nice, James. Good thing for you they were sure-footed!
A beautiful poem and beautiful pictures, except the middle picture took my breath away. Thank you for sharing James.
Very nice James, evocative and sentimental, the type of poem we can go back to read again and again.
I love Yosemite and I love this poem. Thank you!
What a lovely poem.
Google Glacier Point images! There are even some guys in a parked car on the rock.
Thanks for the read, James.
I have a photo of my father on that same rock when he was working his way through college at Camp Curry (in the valley directly below Glacier Point) in the mid-30s. My parents honeymooned in Yosemite, too, as did my wife and I. For obvious reasons there are no pictures of me standing there.
Love the photographs and your wonderful poem as a tribute to them.
About you not having a photo of yourself standing there, I don’t know whether it was because you did not want to or because the rules had changed but the following came to mind,
I have just a thought,
bravery comes in many forms
it could be standing high on a rock,
or looking into an abyss of lives gone awry
and risking all to set things right.
But I bet your family was brave on both fronts
best wishes always
Mia
James, I love the sentiment of pictures still whispering tales. These photos from a less restrained age are beautifully described.
Love, courage, and contentment could be the titles for these three snaps.
I like the thought of the third photo as “contentment.” A lot of effort went into climbing that near-10,000 foot remote peak, especially my grandmother in that long, heavy hiking dress she was wearing (when she climbed Mt. Whitney a year or two later she wore pants!). Note the string in her hand that pulled the shutter on the camera that took the “selfie.” I still have the camera that took the picture.
The string was a detail I hadn’t picked up. It’s great that you have the camera used to take these gems.
Just marvelous!
I love this poem and the pictures, great job! My paternal grandpa’s name was also Herbert. He was born shortly before WWI and his childhood was shaped by those events. He also loved hiking, climbing and daring outdoor adventures, a trait which he passed on to me. I immediately wondered how the hiking photos were taken and I’m glad you pointed out the string detail. Did a photographer or hiking partner take the photo of them standing on the rock outcropping?
Yael,
From what I have read, there was, for over 30 years, a professional photographer who sat and took pictures of people standing on that outcrop of rock. There were very few visitors to Yosemite in those days and many of those he took pictures of were people who lived or worked in the Yosemite area (including his most famous picture of two women kicking their legs over their heads). The man stopped taking the pictures somewhere around 1915 so my guess is that my grandparents paid him to take the picture with their camera, since the photo is part of a set of many other pictures which were also taken with their own camera.
On roller coasters today (at least where I am) you have strategically placed cameras to snap riders screaming or putting on poker faces, then choosing whether or not to buy the photo at the end of the ride.
How times have changed – or not.
Nicely done and very meaningful!! We were lucky to have these two wonderful people in our lives!!
Love, Big Sister
Looking at the second photo freaks me out. They certainly had a lot of guts.
They were from a much different generation. Thank you for sharing a great story with such heartfelt verse. You must have been very proud of them.
Enjoyed the poem and the pictures. Very scary
middle photo though. There but for their (protected) feat, you might not have been around to write this poem
Very well done, James. Thank you for letting us meet your remarkable grandparents.
Magnificent James! The pictures have whispered to you, and you have brought these whispers to life in this thoroughly engaging poem that had me swept up in the sky-high moments of a loving union with no health and safety regulations… truly beautiful!
Fine poem of a simple sort to acknowledge what they left you. Isn’t it remarkable what a gift to posterity ancestors can be without thinking about it! I love Evelyn’s sense of style, especially in the headgear.