From the day
Perspective: The Future Historian · Sight
The flash of an Autochrome plate captures the evening in startling, grainy hues, turning the charcoal silhouettes of men’s wool overcoats and the stiff, high collars of the ladies into a vibrant tableau that my era usually only sees in monochrome. Beneath the neon glow of a theater marquis, a newsie bellows about the Seaboard dining car explosion, his voice cutting through the crisp winter air like a jagged blade. It is a bully evening for a stroll, provided one can ignore the hauntingly sweet whistling of "School Days" by Will Cobb & Gus Edwards drifting from a nearby phonograph shop. I watch a gentleman pause to adjust his tie, his fingers brushing a vest button made of that new, cloying Bakelite—a silent herald of the synthetic world that will eventually bury this one.