Telling my mother’s story has never been easy. I had almost no conversations with her ever, and unlike my Dad, she wasn’t a big storyteller, so I learned nothing from her by way of oral history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, it is difficult to write about her except of in terms of how her actions, inactions, presence, or lack thereof affected me personally. All I seem to have is my memories and personal point of view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But actually, my eyes are not the only lenses through which I can view her life. Her father, Ernest Huntley Clarke, documented his daughter enthusiastically on still and moving film, right from her babyhood in 1931, through to her mid-life around 1974. Put together chronologically, all those photos and film clips could make a pretty rich silent movie of the life of Angela Huntley Clarke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She never really spoke for herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If I do compile some movies to present the photos, I’ll may still provide a little narration, hoping that my own voice could be an adequate proxy for her missing one.<\/p>\n
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