A number of years ago I taught an adult class in photography. Every week I would give out an assignment that was due in two weeks. The reason for the two week period was because at that time we were all in the film era and the students needed time to find a subject and have the film processed and printed. I had one student in one of my classes, a woman, who always turned in images of family. Picnics, holidays, new arrivals into the world, etc. She had a fairly good eye, not great, but always very direct. After a few assignments I could tell the rest of the class was dismissing her work as "snapshots" having little interest and demanding little if any attention. To be honest I included myself in that majority. But it occurred to me after one such class that what she was preserving was a history of family. When all the pretty sunsets and flowers and such had long ceased to be admired what she created in those moments, those family gatherings was something that could never be replaced. In time, gradually all the faces in her history would disappear into the past but those people who were now, and yet to be, would have images that told a story. That put a face to a name. I will admit that through the years I have forgotten, from time to time, the lesson that this woman taught us. That sunset at a visited beach, the fine detail of a flower or bird which is repeated by others again and again will, in all likelihood, be forgotten. But those faces in her images will still have life.