spts bun 8.jpg
In this January 21, 1014 file photo, Members of the Springfield Central High baseball team look over the American Legion Post 21 scrapbooks on display following the press conference for the book 'A Home Run for Bunny', at the Springfield School Department.The book is based on the American Legion Post 21 baseball which Tony King played on and how they stood up for their fellow player Bunny Taliaferro. (Republican Photo by Mark M. Murray)
Many years ago, a newly elected member of the Volleyball Hall of Fame in Holyoke told her audience of that memorable day she was told of her election.
"I got the email that said I'd made it. I'm going to print it out and frame it,'' she said proudly. She was sincere and I was happy for her, but the image of a printout in a frame did not bring a tear to my eye.
A lot can be said for the digital age, but if the printed items that have served us well are victims of this progress, the price will be a heavy one.
Last week, I was asked for "hard copies'' of a newspaper story than ran in a recent edition. The story ran online as well, reaching an audience far beyond our circulation region — a statement to the value of digital information.
The hero of the story had a scrapbook, though, and wanted this clipping included. I wonder if soon, such requests will either no longer be heard or no longer possible to honor, as print items vanish under the digital-only avalanche.
The popular image of scrapbooks is one of little old ladies, drinking tea and pasting clippings onto bound pages. Scrapbooking is not considered cool by today's standards, which judge "cool'' by Twitter followers and the latest apps on the market.
Rooting for the survival of traditionally printed material is admittedly self-serving, especially among newspaper people. Those of us who have transitioned to the digital age, but who remain "print people'' at heart, are hoping there is room for both forms of media — because we know if there isn't, it's the old way that will lose out.
Digital technology is not a fad. Centuries-old methods of transmitting information are imperiled: letter writing, photo prints (as opposed to computer images that do not involve actual pictures on paper), archival record filing and of course, the print newspaper that has graced carefully preserved scrapbooks for generations.
The American family has changed so much that the image of old and young folks, poring over scrapbooks in the living room, seems quaint and archaic. But that doesn't diminish its value and meaning, and some families still carry on the tradition.
Every so often, I come across former athletes who played in the 1980s and 1990s, when I covered high school sports. Now grown, they say they've saved clippings from their days of glory, some written by me.
As their parents did for them, they have kept the clips to show their kids and, while they were are at it, to take their own walk down memory lane. It makes me feel old, but also proud to know that something I did gave so much satisfaction and still does.
You can create scrapbooks with digital printouts, and maybe the next generation will treasure those memories as much as their elders enjoyed clippings. Our Hall of Fame volleyball star certainly sounded that way.
But to those of us who grew up in a different age, there is a difference. A written letter from a high school flame is not the same as an Instagram message.
A story in the local paper is not the same as a printout. A concern that goes beyond sentiment also comes attached to the digital age: some record keepers warn that vast amounts of material will be lost because they were never actually embedded onto paper, but existed only within computer technology.
Scrapbook fans are sensitive about the future of their craft. and many are in denial. They form clubs and show up on public-access TV, dismissing the warnings while knowing, deep down, that those warnings have basis.
I have a sports scrapbook, created mostly in 1967, when the Boston Red Sox won their "Impossible Dream'' pennant. I don't look at it often, but just knowing it's there brings back fond memories, somehow making me feel old and young at the same time.
A neighbor has entrusted our family with scrapbooks containing decades of clippings from the Springfield Newspapers. In these pages are more than just clips and cartoons and photos; they represent years of patient caring and attention, a personal connection not evident when it's only an email or computer printout involved.
Such wistful observations seem downright corny to young people, but I've seen many become fascinated by a well-kept scrapbook that catalogued family history, sports success or the news of a bygone day. I have yet to meet any who didn't enjoy looking at an album put together by scissors, tape (or with a delicate touch, glue), and most of all, personal attention.
As technology renders tangible print material obsolete, the traditional scrapbook may not meet the new parameters, but it can still speak to the memory, the soul and the heart. I have to believe that even in the digital age, there must be a place for that.