Through an Uncommon Lens: The Life and Photography of F. Holland Day

9. Solitude

• 187 • nine Solitude ∂¥ Although Fred Holland Day spent his last fourteen years in his Norwood home (figure 68), it was neither a sudden nor a complete withdrawal from the world. After the 1916 summer in Maine he remained close to Norwood and his “ageing and invalid mother,” tending to her needs as he had his father’s.1 He invested in an automobile and traveled in and about Boston to keep up with acquaintances and activities, but in the spring of 1917 he informed Jane White that he was no longer taking pictures.“The regret I feel at your giving up photography is most sincere,” she responded.“I hope you’ll reconsider and that something may occur to renew your interest with added enthusiasm!”2 Although Day was undoubtedly affected by the relocation of White’s summer school from Maine to Connecticut, World War I had contributed another setback: platinum, the metal so vital to Day’s photographic process, was becoming increasingly difficult to obtain. In 1914, Willis & Clements of Philadelphia, importers of platinotype papers, had warned him that although their English supplier continued in business ,“everything is slower since the war and we never know what vessel is bringing us supplies.”3 As importations slowed to a trickle and costs increased to an almost prohibitive level, by 1917 the scarcity of materials added to Day’s waning 188 • chapter nine enthusiasm. He gave up his 3 River Street Place studio in Boston and brought its contents home. The photographic “paraphernalia,” as he called it—including negatives, prints, cameras, and accessories—were “packed away and stacked up in the attic,” while the furniture, artwork, books, and other accessories were absorbed into the Norwood house.4 Throughout World War I, Day corresponded with young men serving in the military who had enjoyed his hospitality at Five Islands. Not content merely to exchange letters, he shipped books, newspapers, cigarettes, candy, and money around the world.5 One soldier gave particular thanks for the cigarettes, assuring Day that “Fatimas are my favorite.” Another was grateful for the books Day had sent, telling him that all his fellow soldiers“want to get their chance to read them.”6 Although not in Maine himself, Day saw to it that a flag with a star for each of these servicemen was flown at the Chalet alongside the Stars and Stripes. In May 1918 he wrote to Ernest McDermid that there was “a four-starred flag flopping about the upper balcony” at Little Good Harbor and the eventual total was more than twice that.“Did you say the tenth star!?!” an amazed Ernest Bachrach wrote.“All of the boys must have gone to fight Uncle Sam’s battles then.”7 One young man had joined the Canadian forces. Jeremiah Brophy was a wayward child whom Day had met in Maine and counseled through many troubles, including incarceration in the Concord Reformatory and the Kansas State Penitentiary . In March 1918,“after 15 months hard training as an artillery man,” he was on his way to France, well aware he might not return but determined to express his gratitude to Day: It is but natural on the near eve of my going where so many have stayed, that I should think of the one friend, whose early advices have helped me so much through the years. Should I come back there will be many experiences which I am sure you will be interested to hear. What a diary I could fill if they would allow it! But in case I do not return,you will always know that to the end I was deeply grateful to you for showing me the best way to get the real good out of a life which could not have been anything but a miserable existence, had you not pointed my feet into a better path.8 Proud of the extended family he had brought together at Five Islands, and aware of the affection all had for the place,for him,and for one another,Day filled his letters with reminiscences, news, and affection.“I judge from your letter that solitude • 189 you have at last met THE girl. Let me send my best congratulations!” he wrote to William Slack in January 1917.“That it should have‘happened in Maine’ is indeed a happy circumstance.” He then brought the young man up-to-date on Five Islands...