Rotorua
Here is a photograph, 1928 we think.
The man on the right is my father who
after injuring his neck when a car rolled
was sent from Auckland to Rotorua
for treatment.
I don’t know what the
treatment consisted of, or for how long
it took place, but I value how
Rotorua still has the feeling of the
Sanitorium.
Milton, my father was never able
to turn his head very far to the right
for the rest of his life.
As a boy
I found it a little creepy that he
slept on the flat of his back,
arms by his sides,
eyes staring steadfastedly
at the ceiling
parade ground like.
Directly over
my parents double
bed in their bedroom at
Brown’s Bay there we
two searingly vivid white fluorescent lights.
They added to the Stephen King effect.
Under my father’s left arm
he holds a folding camera in
a leather case. Our family
is thankful to him for the
photographic legacy that he left
us.
The name of the guide I do not know
at present. It may be that someone
does know her identity, if so please
let me know, she may have family
who would find comfort in her image.
