Instamatic. I had just baked Dad a heart shaped cake using a recipe
from Betty Crocker’s Boys and Girls cookbook.
dancing on my father’s feet to dancing in 1967 at my brother’s Bar
Mitzvah, and in 1976 at my sweet 16 and in 2009 at my brother’s son’s
Bar Mitzvah…I will always remember how my father taught me to dance
Heidi Kirkpatrick, Daddy, Springfield, Ohio
Leonard Correa, Honoring Thy Father, Sacramento, CA
This photo taken by me on May 9th, 2008 at the California Peace Officers
Memorial ceremony in Sacramento, California. The children’s father,
CHP Officer John Miller, died November 16, 2007 in a car crash while
responding to a pursuit of a drunk driver. His son was 4 years old and
daughter 2 years old at the time this photo was taken. Nine Officers
died in the line of duty in Calfornia that year, seven of whom were
Emily Amesbury, Grandpa, Bristol, UK
Lydia Barnard, Martin Barnard, Dad, At Home, Brighton, UK
Donita Simpson, Safe, Detroit, Michigan
Brigitte Carnochan, Casualties of War, Worms, Germany 1947
The photo in the lower right hand corner was taken in 1942, as my German father was leaving to join the Africka Korps. He was captured by the Americans when Rommel surrendered and spent the rest of the war as an American POW.
Mary Defer, Dad, Hiram, Ohio
Aileen Reilly, A Father is Born, New York, NY
brother, father of three boys, has shaped himself into a father any
child would be lucky to have.
for a better life, became a US Citizen, a self-taught Commercial Lobster
Fisherman, married my mom and put 5 kids through college by catching
lobsters off the coast of Palos Verdes. This photo was taken in the
Philippines when he was 21 years old.
this image. How I wish I could ask Dad about his fashion statement
swimsuit. I would really enjoy teasing him about it!
Because I did not not know my own Father very well, it is wonderful to
watch my son as a Father!
beginning about how small he has become compared to my memory. And it
get´s harder everytime to say goodbye …
found treasures. And on days he feels like selling some of them, he’ll
open the door and flip his sign to “OPEN FOR BUSINESS, Make an Offer”.
Los Angeles National Cemetery, Westwood, CA (Memorial
picture I’m sending to you is one of those moments where I’ve been
walking on the street and saw the person I really wanted to photograph.
This was a very special moment. I didn’t know that the gentlemen I want
to take a portrait of was with his daughter. This appeared when I was
just about to press the button and a little lady came across and stood
next to her father. They both look very magical, mysterious and very
together. She didn’t want his father to be alone even in that moment as
you can see on the photograph.
in Okinawa during the Kamikaze attacks and was injured during the
conflict. All this at the age of 19 with a wife and new born child
waiting for him when he returned.
father is a motorcycle mechanic. Growing up we never shared a common
bond. Now, despite how serious he looks, he loves to let me take his
photo. It has brought us closer.
is the only image our family has of my Dad working as a radio operator
in the Merchant Marine, which he joined at age 17 after getting written
permission from his father. Known as “Sparks” in the ship’s radio room,
he communicated to other vessels and the outside world using Morse
code. I created this collage in his honor prior to his death three
years ago. It includes a post card he sent from Paris to his parents in
New York in 1946. I am grateful for the sense of adventure he passed
on to me through his stories and DNA.
Santiago Venegas, The Other Parent (from series, Considering Mortal), Sutro Baths in San Francisco, CA
Harvey Hanig, Saul Hanig Battery Park New Castle, DE ca 1968, New Castle Delaware
Thomas Kittel, Dad, c. 1978, Amityville, NY
Fabiano Busdraghi, Fedele, Pontremoli, Italy
Rachel Bellinsky, Dad and Lily, Las Vegas, NV
Joel Brown, Cyrus Brown in his backyard, Garden Grove, Ca
C. Gary Moyer, Me and my Dad, Pottstown PA –1964
This is the earliest picture I could find of me and my Dad. One of my
favorites. Happy Fathers Day Dad.
Bernd Reinhardt, Dad with Two Beers, ca 1980, Germany,
My Dad (Erich Reinhardt) died way too early at age 51, but he lived life
to its fullest. He was one happy German, and this is how I like to
Bruce Myren, Dad pointing to his radiation targeting tattoo, Everett, MA
My Dad was very upset when I got my first and only tattoo, he could not
understand why someone would mark their body on purpose. So when he had
to get a tattoo for his radiation treatment I had to tease him a bit and
make a picture. This was the last picture I took of him before he
passed away in 2008.
Walter Plotnick, Dad At The Fair, New York
Jim McKinniss ,My Imagined Grandfather,San Diego CA
My grandfather died when I was only 5 and I have never seen a photo of
him. This photo taken at a Steam Punk gathering represents one of the
many ways that I have imagined him.
Dominique Leyva, Fishing, Pecos, New Mexico
Dad always gets us all out into the hills. All stress disappears along the river. We create good memories to the rhythm of the stream.
Sally DeFord, Eating by Dad, Grand Junction, Colorado
My kids love their dad. They cheer when he walks in the door from
work and they love sitting right next to him at dinner time.
Paul Conlan, E.R. Conlan, Miami, FL
My Father, E.R. “Gene” Conlan died 31 years ago in Miami, FL. He was
born in Kansas City, MO and moved to Miami as a boy. This is a studio
photo of him as a young man. I sill miss him.
Ann Mitchell, The Year He Met My Mother, New York, NY
Kurt Jordan, Dad At Church On Sunday, Los Angeles CA
Matilde Soligno, Dad on Christmas Day, Bologna (Italy) 2010, from the series Unfamiliar, 2012
Yvette Meltzer, I miss my Dad
Summer Vacation, 1959 in Michigan City, IN
I’ve held on to my Dad’s neckties, although not his preferred mode of
dress, for 36 years now with the intent
of doing an artistic project with them. At last – for this project – I
took them out of the clothes bags where I’ve had them stored, to take
photos of them – the ties that bind me
to my father who was the glue of our family.
We lost so much when we lost him – his sense of humor, his
easy-going understanding. The measure of my loss was the measure of my privilege.
2011 in the far north of Scotland. A short man – an identical twin – he
has beaten cancer and I want him to be around for ever. Without him, I
would not be a photographer or, I suspect, anywhere close to being the
person I am. Thanks paw.
This photo is of my Dad. He and my mom adopted me when I was only
five months old, and he died when I was fifteen. It is startling to
realize I’ve been without him longer than I had him, yet this photo is
not all that remains; he remains in my heart and all the lessons that
he taught me when I was growing up still shape my life.
My Father is wearing my scarf to ward off the chill of the dining room.
My daughter is wearing her high school boyfriend’s ring.
My father’s daughter, my daughter’s mother. I feel their love and trust and enjoyment of being together every time I look at
this crappy scan from a mediocre shot from a small camera.
trying his best to provide an example for his children how to manage
their lives in terms of their commitment, responsibility and
accountability. He did well by our first born, Harel. They are both
catching up with their respective responsibilities between breakfast and
Harel’s Business School Graduation ceremony.
©Sylvia de Swaan, Dusty with his son Duncan, 1979, Utica, NY
“day job.” I spent some weeks in the fall of 1979 photographing him with
his two boys in the old Victorian house where they used to live. We
lost touch with each over other years, but little Duncan must be about
34 years old, and perhaps a dad himself by now.
Hank Hauptmann, Tourist Dad vs. Jesus Guy, Boston, MA
our family enjoyed a much-needed vacation together when he returned.
During a long day of warm sunshine and amusement park over-stimulation,
our two year old daughter was surely tuckered out because she fell
asleep while waiting for/and during the train ride. I imagine how safe
and content she must have felt while asleep in her daddy’s arms.
allusion that I’m not really taking a photograph. My Dad had recently
broken his wrist and my son was giving him some TLC. A moment of pure
tenderness from both.
body of work focuses on the places that are left unoccupied after
someone passes away. While one is alive they become associated with
certain locations in which their presence is recognized. However, after
they pass away their existence is lost in these spots that they should
be seen in. This body of work recreates their appearance and positions
them back into these places.
Anne Fitzpatrick Call, Stephen Fitzpatrick, Los Angeles, CA
(photo taken by Aline Smithson)
Always a smile on his face and a loving Irish heart, you are missed!
Aline Smithson, Dad showing off, somewhere in Arizona
Wish you were here so I could celebrate the most wonderful father in the world. Thanks for showing me that real men know how to love, to laugh, to cry, and wear an apron just as well as a cowboy hat. I love you, Dad.