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American Fiction Historical Fiction

The National Geographic Magazine, AKA, the Nat Geo, was first published in September of 1888. By 1908 more than half of the magazine’s pages were photographs. At its peak of publication in the late 1980’s, Nat Geo magazine had twelve million subscribers in the U.S., and millions more outside the U.S. [1]

From the time she was nine and got her first camera for her birthday, Aunt Sophie loved taking pictures. Through high school, she worked for the school newspaper, taking pictures for all the extracurricular activities and the school yearbook. She always said one day she was going to work as a professional photographer.  She had put together a portfolio of what she considered her best work and during her senior year, unbeknownst to her, her photography teacher, who had taken an interest in her work, submitted some of her photos to an associate at the Nat Geo Society. In August of 1990, after graduation from high school, Aunt Sophie received an offer of employment with the magazine to work as a full-time photographer. Without hesitation, she was off to start a career that led her through a lifetime of adventures!

As my mother’s younger sister, she never married. She said being married would tie her down and not allow her to travel and take her pictures. Instead, she was married to her camera and her pictures were her babies. Her job with Nat Geo magazine allowed her the opportunity to go to exotic places, all over the world, that most people only dream of, and she was always ready to go, sometimes at a moment’s notice. When the magazine did a feature in 1990, two years after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, she was there. The story of King Tut’s tomb, lead her to Egypt, where she photographed not only the Tomb, but many of the pyramids and rode a camel through the Sahara Desert. She once told me that the story and pictures of the Runing of The Bulls in Pamplona, Spain was one of her favorites. After each assignment, when she would come home, usually for just a short while, we were always excited to see her and hear all the stories about where she had been and what she had seen through her lens.

But it wasn’t just her pictures and stories that made her who she was. Aunt Sophie was a force to be reckoned with! Everywhere she went she was seen and heard. It wasn’t her just trying to bring attention to herself, it’s just who she was. Her unique Boho style of dress, with bright colors, palazzo pants and loose-fitting shirts, all adorned with big necklaces, earrings, and bracelets, and earrings, made her stand out.  She had traditional outfits from all the places she had been, and she wore them all, no matter where she went. She was not a jeans and tee -shirt kind of woman. It was not uncommon for her to show up to a family event, wearing an outfit she had gotten in one of the places she had been, and if the outfit included a hat, scarf, or sari, she wore it, with her long hair, that later in life, was mostly gray, piled up on her head and secured with a chop stick she had gotten in Japan.  My mother had given up being embarrassed by her appearance long ago, and if her outfit wasn’t enough of an attention getter or distraction, her voice was! She spoke in a loud, hoarse, smoker’s voice, reminiscent of a baritone in a quartet. Her loud laugh was infectious! All the women loved her, the children were afraid of her, thinking she was a witch who cast magical spells and even though the men were intimated by her, it didn’t stop her from joining them when they all went out to the designated smoking area to smoke cigars.

I loved my Aunt Sophie; she was always my favorite person. We always had a subscription of Nat Geo in our home, and when she was away, I would look at the pictures she had taken to remind me of her and miss her less. Throughout my life, and going to school, when she was home, with Mom’s permission, she would come in her yellow VW bug, on Fridays, and pick me up from school to spend the weekend with her. Her home was well suited to her personality and lifestyle. A garage apartment, with the upstairs consisting of the living area and the downstairs, or garage, was filled with shelves and cabinets containing all her memorabilia from all her travels. The back wall was a huge closet for all her costumes, outfits, shoes, and purses. Mom hated it and called her a hoarder, but I loved it. During the day we would play “dress up”, sing and dance to whatever music matched our costumes. At night, we would sit in the back yard with the fire pit blazing to roast hot dogs and marshmallows. After a full day of make-believe adventures, I would fall asleep, with her next to me in her king size bed, telling me stories. She never told me the same story twice. I never overgrew our weekends together; I never wanted it to end and wished that we could stay there forever.

After thirty -three years of Aunt Sophie traveling and taking pictures for the National Geographic magazine, she decided to hang up her camera, regrettably, it was time, and she must have known what was coming. In September of 2022, the magazine laid off six of its top editors. [2] In June 2023, the magazine laid off all its staff writers, shifting to freelance -based writing and announced that beginning in 2024, it would no longer offer newsstand purchases.

It was a sad day when my Aunt Sophie died! She was eighty - eight years old. I know in my heart, she had no regrets, she lived a full and happy life, I consider myself so blessed to have had her, everyone should be so blessed, everyone should have their own, Aunt Sophie!

May 31, 2024 18:37

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