I Still Have His Camera

Memories through the lens of my dad's old Pentax

My dad’s 1970’s Pentax he passed down to me when he upgraded his camera some time in the very early 80’s.

Some of my fondest memories of my dad are attached to this camera. So I wanted to share this blog post from almost 15 years ago, with edits to the years that have passed since. I hope it brings fond memories of a loved one for you too, please share them with me in the comments if you wish!

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Recently I pulled out my old Pentax camera my dad had given me. I’ve had it stored on a shelf, still in the camera bag. The outside was pretty dusty, but when I unzipped the main bag, I was immediately transported to one of the last times I used that camera—at least 25 years ago now, playing around with different lenses. I remember spending an afternoon taking pictures of my dogs, belly deep in the sprawling blossoms of wild verbena carpeting the desert.

I lifted the camera out of the bag and held it in my hands, the weight of it feeling so familiar. So comforting. I held it up to my eye and saw the all-to-familiar reflection of my lashes magnified in the tiny window. I began manually focusing on various subjects out the kitchen window. I love manual focus—what freedom of composition and depth you get! I thought of my dad. I released the shutter, relishing the feel and sound of that unmistakable click. So solid! It felt like my dad was right there with me with each click. I played around with it for a few more minutes, enjoying the weighty camera in my hands again. Lamenting how I still miss manual focus.

It was my dad who got me into photography (actually he got both me and my mom into it, my mom is an amazing photographer). When I was younger, it was a very big deal when he let me start loading the film. I took pride in how quick I got at changing out rolls of film for him, and later for myself. I have a vague memory of tagging along with him to the park across the street, him taking pictures, me schlepping the bag, ever at the ready to grab a new roll of film. I have no idea where those photos ended up.

As I grew older, I took any and all classes that put me in a darkroom. In high school I always had a photography class, during summers too. I loved using that camera, making prints, and my favorite part of the process was developing the images. I always had those tongs in my hand, dipping photo paper into each of the four shallow tubs—staring intently at the first tub waiting for just the right moment to pull my image out of the developer then dipping it immediately into the stop bath. From there the fixer, followed by swishing it around in the wash. Sometimes I’d squeegee it before hanging it to dry. I liked being in the darkroom, working under that muted red glow of light. No one bothered you there, because once you closed the door, and the curtain, no one could enter until you finished. And I loved, loved the chemical smell of the darkroom. Still do to this day.

Camera accessories, a blast from the past covering ~50 years if you count the camera itself! Remember those “soft focus” lenses and the prism lenses that were big in the 80’s?!

I dug into the bag, pulling camera accessories out of open pockets, zippered pockets and clipped pockets. Memories flooded; photography exhibits with my dad, particularly those featuring the works of Ansel Adams, whom he loved. Likely the reason I prefer black and white today, and why I like contrast, light play, patterns—it’s pretty much what I was exposed to, no pun intended. For me, the story that speaks from a black and white photo just seems more…colorful.

I continued to feel my dad’s presence, going down memory lane as I spread out the variety of lenses, lens cleaner and lens tissues. Oh man, my dad constantly had me cleaning my lenses, that I will NEVER forget! I pulled out little leather cylinder film cases, lens caps, colored filters, even an unused roll of film! It was a time capsule, from a day in the life of our Pentax.

When I first got the prism lens, I went overboard with it (1980’s), imagine infinite kaleidoscope images of people and wildflowers. Ironically this image was taken with my 2012 iPhone (sounds blasphemous), looking through the prism lens, at my dad’s beautiful Pentax handed down to me 🙂

It was truly a wonderful afternoon spent with the memory of my dad and I’m so grateful he enjoyed sharing his love of photography so readily with us, and likely so patiently with me! It’s a big part of who I am now. I realized taking pictures is a part of my creative history, and one of my favorite ways to capture pieces of my story today.

©Michelle Hedgecock 2012; Edited 2026