Greensboro is a city in the U.S. state of North Carolina. It is the third-largest city by population, in North Carolina and the largest city in Guilford County and the surrounding Piedmont Triad metropolitan region. As of the 2000 census, Greensboro was home to 223,891 residents.
A camera is a device that records/stores images. These images may be still photographs or moving images such as videos or movies. The term camera comes from the camera obscura (Latin for "dark chamber"), an early mechanism for projecting images. The modern camera evolved from the camera obscura.
A chamber or round building
television camera: television equipment consisting of a lens system that focuses an image on a photosensitive mosaic that is scanned by an electron beam
equipment for taking photographs (usually consisting of a lightproof box with a lens at one end and light-sensitive film at the other)
A retail establishment selling items to the public
A quantity or supply of something kept for use as needed
(store) shop: a mercantile establishment for the retail sale of goods or services; "he bought it at a shop on Cape Cod"
(store) keep or lay aside for future use; "store grain for the winter"; "The bear stores fat for the period of hibernation when he doesn't eat"
(store) a supply of something available for future use; "he brought back a large store of Cuban cigars"
Have you ever heard about the Gardner Hill gold mine or the healing powers of Apinol? Do you remember the Brightwood Inn or the antics of Slammin Sammy Snead? Culling the best from News & Record reporter Jim Schlosser's hundreds of history-related articles, Remembering Greensboro celebrates the unique history of Greensboro and Guilford County. From memorable events like the Woolworth sit-ins and the Greater Greensboro Open to beloved local heroes, characters and celebrities, Schlosser offers something for everyone who calls the Gate City home.
On Saturday, December 22, 2007, at approximately 9:30am, Boris Ed Miranda-McGruder (oka Kiev 88) was pronounced dead at Kurt's Camera in Santee.
Boris came to me from Greensboro, NC on Friday, December 21, 2007 from a dealer who probably knew the aperture adjusting mechanism thingy was busted or very nearly so, but decided to call it in "excellent" condition anyway. As fate would have it, not only would Boris be somewhat defective to begin with (in addition to the built-in defects of being a Kiev), he would also meet his maker in one Paula Jean A. Miranda, student and would-be iron smelter who has absolutely no finesse or regard for the fine engineering that goes in to making cameras, even pos Kievs. Her idea of getting anything to work is by exerting force when, clearly, one should stop, and by drinking beer in an attempt to bond with said device and "level out" each others' disparate energies.. Four New Castles and a bruised hand and ego later, she has done what many cannot accomplish in such a short period: lock the lens into the body with no way of taking it out and, not being quick to realize that fact, completely bust open a wide angle lens (ripped it from itself!) trying to yank it out, effectively ruining the camera.
Here's a timeline of the camera's short and sweet time in my possession:
(early December, 2007: Prof. Eichinger suggests the Kiev, among others, as potential cameras to begin with in medium format. The fault, naturally, falls on this man for introducing to me such crazy ideas.)
Friday, 12/21/07 5:30pm - Neighbor Tito brings up USPS box within the safety of our hallway. I erupt in cheers, yelling "It's my new camera! It's Russian!!" 6:15pm - I finally get the box open and unwrap everything. I begin switching from the prism to the waist-level finder. This should be cake. 6:45pm - Uhh.. 7:30pm - Yep, dunno.. Mmm, sandwich time. 8:00pm - At this point, I decide to nix the Russian-English manual, grab a beer and try some good, ol' logic. 8:30pm - Success! To celebrate, I grab another beer and go at the film magazine 8:45pm - I have the mechanics of film loading, advancement and shooting down pact. Feelin good, feelin great. Walking around my apt with a beer in one hand and Boris in another- life is so sweet. 10:00pm - It is at this point that I start messing around with the infamously delicate and fussy film crank and ISO meter, which may or may not have had something to do with what came next. 10:03pm - Checking out the lens. I move the f/stop but the aperture diaphragm doesn't change. Err.. I adjust the focusing ring and it changes the diaphragm. WHat?!! My stomach starts to turn. 10:05pm - Let's try the other lens. Good idea, except this pinche fucking lens won't come out. 11:45pm - It keeps shifting in place with no future plans of unlocking and popping out. Am I not doing this right? Note to self: Screw screw-mount lenses, esp ones marked "Made in USSR." 11:46pm - *$&@!!*! My alcohol-induced rage and strength peaks at this moment and I end up separating the lens from itself. With my hands covered in lubricating goo, I somberly utter, "Oh shit." 12:30am - I'm in the fetal position on the floor, turned away from Boris crying, "I SHOULD'VE GOTTEN A MAMIYAAAAAA!!"
Saturday, 12/22/07 9:00am - Go to George's for some help. Wincing at the sight (or smell) of my fake Hasselblad in shambles, the store associate refers me to Kurt's. They'll know for sure what's up. 9:30am - I get to Kurt's and the lovely gentleman helping me goes, "Well, this looks like a Hassie, but I can tell it's not," at which point I meekly confirm "No, it's a Kiev." Without missing a beat, he replies, "That explains it." He expertly takes out the back and jams his fingers in and around the camera. I feel almost violated. I was going to tell him, "Hey buddy, take it easy," but then, who was I kidding? 9:35am - AHA!! He pushes something and it comes unscrewed. Even he was baffled by why it was such a struggle. Then, he points to a slim piece of curved metal that is supposedly the cause of my problems (you can see it stick out a little from the bottom inside the body in the photo), and confirms that it's not serviceable.
A Bermuda Triangle of camera "don'ts" formed when Boris and I met, and it settled over my apt during our time together. It was his fate to be assembled by hungry, irritable factory workers from the Eastern Bloc, just as it was my fate to be born without the good sense that God gave cabbage (thank you, Samuel Gillis).
Needless to say, I need to relax from the medium format frenzy, pay off the Russian and wait until a nice Mamiya RB becomes available. I'm modifying the Holga to be
Greensboro, NC Will Sell Public Pools Rather Than Let Negroes Use Them - Jet Magazine, December 5, 1957
Click the "All Sizes" button above to read an article or to see the image clearly.
These scans come from my rather large magazine collection. Instead of filling my house with old moldy magazines, I scanned them (in most cases, photographed them) and filled a storage area with moldy magazines. Now they reside on an external harddrive. I thought others might appreciate these tidbits of forgotten history.
Please feel free to leave any comments or thoughts or impressions... Thanks in advance!