Capturing the ghosts of 2025 and the future memories of 2026

Just a week ago, in my last column of 2025 I said I was looking forward. So where do I go in the very first column of 2026?

When you drive for decades all over the city on assignment certain streets, buildings or neighborhoods tilt you toward the past.

Memories don’t just live in one place but are scattered across the map, waiting around a corner, or sitting on a stoop like an old friend. Every recurring event or anniversary replays images in my head.

I went to the Convention Center two days before the Mummers Parade, looking as I have many times, to make a photo ahead of the event.

But this year, there were no Fancy Brigade members in the cavernous room. Nobody working on their elaborate stage sets or rehearsing their Broadway-quality choreographed performances.

As a cost-cutting measure this year, the clubs only booked the hall (and union workers) for an eight-hour shift in the evening. No early overtime.

So there I was, “seeing” feathered and sequined Mummer ghosts of my memory dancing through the hall. Then, like in the 2006 movie Night at the Museum. I almost wondered if a Greek god, 15 foot high Tiki figure or jester would suddenly come alive.

On New Year’s Eve, I photographed a 93 year-old Welsh grandmother visiting the Mummers Museum.

The next day she was to live her dream of going to the parade. I wondered what she was thinking the next day, even as I photographed it for my umpteenth time, collecting more memories and learning, as always, how to see things in new ways.

Since 1998 a black-and-white photo has appeared every Monday in staff photographer Tom Gralish’s “Scene Through the Lens” photo column in the print editions of The Inquirer’s local news section. Here are the most recent, in color: