In fall of 2014 I had the thrill of spending 10 days in Israel. I have never been the same since. I will never be the same in the future.

Today, Israel is on my mind and in my heart in a special way. It's the 70th anniversary today in terms of world governments and recognition. But it is the eternal city of God. And today, the U.S. Embassy is newly located in Israel's capital, Jerusalem.

So many moments, images, sights and sites, sounds and sound bites come to mind when I think of this most unique country of Israel and its Holy City and capital of Jerusalem. Here's one moment. Our group, about 35 of us with my Ovid Community Church, walked along together toward our next stop in Jerusalem. In the opposite direction some Jewish men walked by. One man's eyes met mine and with neither of us stopping or even slowing down, he called out, "Where you from?" I said "U.S.A." His response?

"God bless the U.S.A. and Israel, together."

And that is where we are in a special way today.

We don't get too far into the Bible before we read this in Genesis 12:3: "I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you." NIV

Indeed, Jesus came through the Jewish people ... the whole earth blessed by Him.

Israel is the size of New Jersey. Everywhere (EVERY-WHERE) you step, you are walking on history. In fact, I best describe this experience as one where someone dropped me into a Bible and allowed me to walk around there. Events of both Old and New Testaments merge and mingle.

Whereas the Bible was once in black and white, it is now in living color.

As the man said in the crowd in the heart of Jerusalem,
"God bless the U.S.A. and Israel, together."

Amen.

I’ve had my small point-and-shoot Canon for several years. We've been through a lot together.

I’m actually more than a little surprised that it still works, and works so well. The camera was close to going belly up half a dozen years ago, and was saved by our newspaper’s then chief photographer, Max Gersh.

Along with being an extraordinary photographer and super nice coworker to boot, Max was an all-around good guy. He had a previous stint working in a camera shop and he knew things.

Picture this. One day I dropped my little camera on a cement garage floor and the lens remained stuck in an extended position. I couldn’t use it like that.

Max had some good news and some bad news. The good news was that he knew what might fix the problem. The bad news was that the fix might ruin the camera permanently.

“It’s no good as it is,” I told him. “Go for it.” We held our collective breath.

He took the camera, placed it lens side down, and SLAMMED it down on the desk. The impact freed the lens and the camera has worked perfectly ever since.

For six years now, I’ve figured that any day now, the camera won’t work – either from the drop or the fix, or from sheer age, and extended use. But so far, it keeps on shooting and my photos look as good as many people’s do with cameras that cost multiple times what mine did.

A few weeks ago I was sent to photograph a visiting big-shot politician in from out of state campaigning for a guy running for Congress. The editor wanted a quick pic of the two pols together in a coffee shop. I wasn’t to stay for the meeting they had with locals in their party.
The out-of-state big shot took one look at my little camera and said, “Is that from the Smithsonian?”

The photo turned out great, by the way. I’d stack it against any camera Sen. Hot Shot could come up with.

This trusty purse-sized machine has survived thousands of feature assignments, a day in the press pen photographing Donald Trump, and a trip of a lifetime photographing sights and scenes in Israel. It has captured Christmases at home, cute kids for page-one stand-alones and award-winning lifestyle pages.

You could say I’ve gotten my money’s worth. Size doesn't matter.

Thank you Max Gersh! This post is for you.

I love this old photo for many reasons. For one thing, in decades past, people didn’t take bunches of pictures as they do now, so you’ve got to figure the photos that were taken and survive today represent special occasions or milestones of one kind or another. This picture is between 70-75 years old. I’m guessing that its significance is that my grandfather, Roscoe Jobe, had just bought this pony for my brother, the late David Jobe.

I also love it because this picture was taken in what I knew as “the pony lot,” or, referring to another era of the same location, “the chicken yard” (due to chickens residing there before I came along). My pony, Ginger, and later my horse, Buck, grazed and were saddled up in that same space 25 years after this photo was taken. By then, my grandfather had passed on and my brothers were grown. (Remember, I came along late in my parents' reproductive years.)

I love the continuity that this old farm photo represents, but there is more.

After my dad died, my brother David and his wife Janet built a home steps away from where this photo was taken. They are both gone now but their granddaughter lives in the home they built, and that granddaughter’s sister lives in the house where my grandparents, then my parents lived, and where I grew up (on the other side of that summer kitchen in the photo. It still stands as well).

One of my future projects concerns creating some kind of order for these old photos. And wouldn’t the best of them make great gifts, enlarged and framed, for particular loved ones?

I have century-old and older photos that are in perfect condition, clear, sharp and although they have not been cared for especially well through the decades, heaped into boxes and shelved, and who knows what else before that, they have come down through the generations intact and beautiful.

I have to wonder what photos (the current term has evolved to “images”) will survive from the digital age. I am as guilty as the next person of taking family pictures, posting the best of the lot on Facebook – and forgetting them.

Up until a couple years ago, I was good about making copies, at least. Before that, until about five years ago, I was good about not only copying them, but filing them in order in albums. I’m not so good at either now.

We see how technology changes rapidly, and we change right along with it more gradually, but change we do. So the camera cards and smart phones of today that produce beautiful images will become obsolete and if the photos aren’t printed, ones depicting entire childhoods, vacations and special events, may be lost forever.

It’s something to think about. Will my kids and grandkids, let alone great-grandkids, give a hoot about old photos? Will there even be remaining images of their ancestors or will today’s selfies be tomorrow’s long-lost fad?

I’m curious about how others manage their vintage, as well as more current photos. How do you store them? Do you still print and fill family albums? Do you ever print photos anymore? Do you trust the “cloud” to house your content on into the future or will it be lost when the “next big thing” comes along?

And even if you trust the "cloud," will your descendants be able to access those images?