Showcasing vintage male photography, mostly nude. You must be 18 years of age or older to visit this blog! If you hold a copyright on any material shown on this blog, notify me, and it will be removed immediately.
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Saturday, October 17, 2026
For Albert
The closing photo in today's series is a repeat from seven years ago,
and I dedicate it to Albert the Belgian, a friend who will
always have a special place in his heart for miners.
Jerry, believe it or not, but your series today brought me to tears—truly. My stepfather was a miner; he died from "miner’s disease"—silicosis—contracted in the coal mines of the central region, near the town of La Louvière in Belgium. For seven generations, every man in my family worked as an underground miner. Had the mines not closed, I almost certainly would have become one, too. My great-grandfather also died in a mine—he drowned when his crew struck an underground aquifer. The bodies of his entire team were never recovered. Those viewing this series—if they happen to read my comment—will understand why I wept while looking at your photographs. I loved my stepfather dearly; in fact, my latest book recounts his life. I owed at least that much to the man who took care of me throughout my earliest childhood. He passed away when I was 14. I still miss him to this day. Thank you, Jerry.
Thanks Albert for your kind explanations. Remembering the men from the past who gave so much to the future through their efforts is always the right thing to do.
And yet the hard work of men like this is given short shrift and looked down upon. Hard labor at low wages from the hands of white collar snobs who would cry if they ever had to work one day in a mine !
My dad worked in the coal mines, so this is of great interest to.me.
ReplyDeleteJerry, believe it or not, but your series today brought me to tears—truly. My stepfather was a miner; he died from "miner’s disease"—silicosis—contracted in the coal mines of the central region, near the town of La Louvière in Belgium. For seven generations, every man in my family worked as an underground miner. Had the mines not closed, I almost certainly would have become one, too. My great-grandfather also died in a mine—he drowned when his crew struck an underground aquifer. The bodies of his entire team were never recovered. Those viewing this series—if they happen to read my comment—will understand why I wept while looking at your photographs. I loved my stepfather dearly; in fact, my latest book recounts his life. I owed at least that much to the man who took care of me throughout my earliest childhood. He passed away when I was 14. I still miss him to this day. Thank you, Jerry.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome!
DeleteThanks Albert for your kind explanations. Remembering the men from the past who gave so much to the future through their efforts is always the right thing to do.
ReplyDeleteSeductive photo ! Nice series.
ReplyDeleteAnd yet the hard work of men like this is given short shrift and looked down upon.
ReplyDeleteHard labor at low wages from the hands of white collar snobs who would cry if they ever had to work one day in a mine !