Memories Down the Drain?

As we were getting ready to leave for our days, to take Grayson to the doctor, to go to work, to provide lunch for our coworkers, I heard a shriek come from the upstairs bathroom.  I rushed halfway up, greeted by my wife with a toothbrush in her mouth and a wet iPhone in her hand.  “I dropped it in the sink!  Help!”

I swiftly took the phone, poured a bag of rice, and prayed that we got to it quickly enough to limit any damage.  My first thought was the replacement cost.  We certainly aren’t living hand to mouth, but these things are expensive gadgets, and I hadn’t planned on replacing one for another 16 months or so.  Stacy brought me back to reality, though; her first concern was the 17.5 GB of photos and videos, the majority of Grayson’s first months and major milestones, precious memories that are far more temporary than their digital format suggests.  After all, these images are just ones and zeroes, ons and offs. 

My parents, and their parents before them, captured these memories on film.  Sure there were mishaps, overexposure, or the role that didn’t load properly into the camera, but for the most part, a few days after the moments were shot, we would drop them off at the local film or drug store.  The negatives would be developed, and each photo would be printed in duplicate on 3”x5” or 4”x6” sheets of photo paper.  If my parents were ambitious, they would sort the photos into albums, place them on a shelf, and move them only so we could dust.  A select few would end up in frames on display.  The only things that threaten them were time, flood, fire or a catastrophe like a tornado.

Seeing the footage out of Oklahoma and Kansas over the weekend, specifically the images out of Moore, OK from yesterday, my heart breaks and my prayers go out to people who have lost everything: homes, cars, pets, memories… even loved ones.  Tornadoes are one of the most powerful and destructive natural events we experience.  They literally reshape and flatten the land in their path, stripping down in minutes what humanity and Mother Nature have built over decades.  In the case of Moore, a tornado erased a town, made it unrecognizable to residents.

When I was a child, just over three years old, a tornado destroyed the house I was born in.  It was a Friday afternoon in early June; my sister and I were napping.  (My youngest sister wasn’t born yet.)  My mom grabbed one of us; my dad, who had Fridays off of work, grabbed the other.  They rushed to the basement of our split-level home just in time to keep the whole family safe.  The house was a total loss.  The garage was sucked off and strewn about the neighborhood.  My sister’s crib was riddled with glass.  The storm took the sheets off my parents’ bed, but it left the comforter in place.  As far as I know, our family photos and documents survived, but others weren’t as lucky.  As a family, we were displaced as we rebuilt on the same lot.  My mom will tell you our neighbors were just too good to leave, too hard to replace.  As a family, we learned to value what was important: neighbors, friends, and each other.  This particular storm even created something most people take for granted: Best Buy.

The jury is still out on our memories.  I’m confident that we did all that we could in the moment to preserve the functionality of the device, and I’m hopeful that, even if the phone doesn’t fully function anymore, we will be able to move the photos and videos to our laptop and properly back them up there.  Worst-case scenario, some of the memories have already been uploaded to the cloud, to Facebook, texted to family.  They are preserved in our hearts and minds, and we have a lifetime of memories ahead of us. 

I’ve certainly learned a lesson about regularly backing up our devices; technology in general, but phones in particular, are fragile pieces of equipment, and the permanent memories stored there are just as temporary as prints when exposed to the elements.  I hope this story can be a bit of a warning to you, too.  Hug your children, then plug in your phone and download your photos.  There are far too many sinks in this world.