STEPHANIE RICHER PHOTOGRAPHY
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Stephanie Richer Photography enjoys sharing not just examples of work but stories, tips, and news that is aimed at benefiting you as a consumer for photographic services.  

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Just a Snapshot

It's just a snapshot.

There is no artistic composition, special lighting, or deep thought process and planning that went into it.

It was taken at the spur of the moment when I had a sudden realization.

And THAT is what makes this picture extremely dear to me.  It was taken on December 31, 2013 and my Facebook feed brought it up as a "memory" I shared back then.

Before I tell you why this picture means so much to me, let me explain something about my wedding business model.  I choose to provide my couples with the digital images of their wedding day.  Over the course of the day, a lot of your candid pictures likely can be called "just a snapshot."  Aunt Lulu mugging for the camera.  Your college roommate dancing the Electric Slide.  The flower girl with cake all over her face.

What I may not know is that Aunt Lulu was the one who financed your years at college.  That roommate might have been in a motorcycle crash and they thought she'd never walk again.  The flower girl was a preemie.  Who knows?

Or it may be that the pictures gain a new importance in the future, when Aunt Lulu is no longer with us, your college roommate stars in a Broadway play, or it is now the wedding day for the flower girl.

Suddenly, that picture that is "just a snapshot" is much, much more.

It's your memory.  It's your life.  You should have that.

Back to my picture.  

These are the two loves of my life, my son and my daughter.  They mean everything to me.

That picture was taken in the stairwell at Ellis Island in New York City, where hundreds of thousands of immigrants passed.  But note - if the authorities directed to you to the far left, it meant that you had passed the literacy and medical checks, and you would be allowed to enter the United States.

In or around 1900, my great-grandparents, Stanislaus and Apolonia Witowski, walked down those very steps.

In 1921, my grandfather, Michael Koretzky, walked down those very steps.

And here in 2013, their great-great-grandchildren and great-grandchildren, respectively, stand in their footsteps.

Excuse me while I go get a tissue, as my eyes are watering some bad . . .