8 x 10 inch Print - Long Wait
SKU:
$120.00
$120.00
per item
An 8 x 10 inch, black and white, high quality print of an image taken by Kathryn Tucker Windham. You'll be the proud owner of a print by Alabama's greatest storyteller.
Note: These are not part of the limited edition numbered set with a family seal. These are a new offer for those who want a lower priced Kathryn Tucker Windham print. A perfect gift for a KTW fan! Allow 1 week for delivery. Price includes tax and shipping if within the contiguous United States.
The house was on the road between Selma and Camden, a road I traveled often. There was little to set it apart from hundreds of other deteriorating tenant houses scattered through the Black Belt except that it seemed a little more desolate and lonely than most.
For a long time I thought it was unoccupied, but then I began to notice signs of life as I drove past: smoke rising from the chimney, fresh tire tracks in the littered yard, a child's plastic tricycle near the side door. Never did I see a human being on the place I watched the house for a year or more, watched its metal roof become rustier and its rough board exterior turn grayer.
"I must stop and photograph this place," I thought a dozen times. "It won't be here forever." Then one cloudy day when there were no leaves on the trees and when I expected to see smoke coming from the chimney but did not, I saw a mongrel dog, black and tan with a white chest, sitting in the yard. "Now's the time for that picture," I told myself as I pulled off the road.
The dog did not run, as I had expected he might, nor did he come toward me. He did not wag his tail nor did he snarl or bark. Except for lifting his ears slightly, he sat perfectly still and stared directly at me while I took a picture of him and of the house.
He did not move when I turned to leave. He did give me a quizzical look as though he wondered if I had come to give him news of the whereabouts of his owners or had come to take him to a new home.
– Kathryn Tucker Windham
For a long time I thought it was unoccupied, but then I began to notice signs of life as I drove past: smoke rising from the chimney, fresh tire tracks in the littered yard, a child's plastic tricycle near the side door. Never did I see a human being on the place I watched the house for a year or more, watched its metal roof become rustier and its rough board exterior turn grayer.
"I must stop and photograph this place," I thought a dozen times. "It won't be here forever." Then one cloudy day when there were no leaves on the trees and when I expected to see smoke coming from the chimney but did not, I saw a mongrel dog, black and tan with a white chest, sitting in the yard. "Now's the time for that picture," I told myself as I pulled off the road.
The dog did not run, as I had expected he might, nor did he come toward me. He did not wag his tail nor did he snarl or bark. Except for lifting his ears slightly, he sat perfectly still and stared directly at me while I took a picture of him and of the house.
He did not move when I turned to leave. He did give me a quizzical look as though he wondered if I had come to give him news of the whereabouts of his owners or had come to take him to a new home.
– Kathryn Tucker Windham
Photo Courtesy of Ted Tucker
"Some people are important to intellectuals, journalists, or politicians, but Kathryn Tucker Windham is probably the only person I know in Alabama who is important to everybody."
–Wayne Flynt, Professor Emeritus in the Department of History at Auburn University. |
CONTACT US
Dilcy Windham Hilley Email: [email protected] © 2023 - Dilcy Windham Hilley. All rights to images belong to the artists who created them. Site by Mike McCracken [email protected] |
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