Photographer Schreibstein documents hometown scenes, sold on cards
The answer: Nowhere.
Rich Schreibstein, a one-time Enterprise editor who currently works as a graphic designer for Enterprise Printing and Photo, decided to solve the problem.
Mr. Schreibstein is also a photographer. He set about documenting classic scenes of Altamont: the library housed in a Victorian train station, the picturesque churches, the flowers in his wife’s garden, the patriotic decor of the Home Front Café on the village’s main street.
He went further, and created a website — YourTownPhotos.com — that offers scenes from Albany, Schenectady, Saratoga, and Rensselaer counties.
All of the scenes are on 5-by7-inch cards with a glossy finish; each comes with an envelope. They can be bought through the website individually or in packets of 10 or 25. Soon, Schreibstein says, he’ll be looking for places in Altamont to sell the cards as well. And, eventually, he plans to offer postcards, too.
Schreibstein, 69, has been taking pictures for 60 years. “I got my first camera in Japan in 1954. My dad had just returned from the Korean War,” said Schreibstein. “My first photo was of Mount Fuji.” He took it with a Kodak Brownie camera.
Schreibstein went on to major in journalism at the University of Texas at El Paso where he took photography courses, before he went into the Army Signal Corps. Schreibstein points out, “The Signal Corps were the first photographers.” Schreibstein himself was a combat signal officer, providing communication on the front, he said.
“I was commissioned in 1970 and went to West Germany,” he said. “Ellen bought me a camera for my first birthday after we were married. I was 25.”
He used the Cannon to take thousands of slides of scenes in Germany.
After seven years in active service, he moved with Ellen and their daughter to a Victorian house on Altamont’s main street. His photographs graced the pages of The Enterprise. One front-page photo dominated a prize-winning edition, which hung for years in the old Enterprise newsroom.
The black-and-white photograph was of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.; the people pointing to names engraved on The Wall were reflected in its shiny surface.
“I took the picture when I went to The Wall with my brother and father, both retired Army colonels,” recalled Schreibstein. His brother found “three guys he knew.” Their names were together; they had died on the same day. “After my brother had gone back to the States, their chopper was shot down,” said Schreibstein.
Schreibstein’s brother, Bert, was named after their father’s best friend, who was killed in World War II.
Many of Schreibstein’s pictures depict patriotic scenes. A favorite venue is the Home Front Café where Cindy Pollard recreated the feeling of her mother’s World War II-era kitchen. The café serves as a sort of living room for the village and a gathering place for veterans, filled with their memorabilia.
One of Schreibstein’s cards shows the Orsini flag, which an Altamont soldier created, in secret, as he was held in a Japanese prisoner of war camp.
Once Schreibstein has taken a picture, he uses a program called Topaz to enhance it. “It allows you to do all kinds of effects,” he said, noting his picture of the Altamont Free Library looks like a painting. “You can pull out the colors,” he said.
Schreibstein’s cards are blank inside “so you can put in your own message,” he said.
Schreibstein has a way with words himself and has made clever titles for the photos on his website.
He and his brother, wearing matching hats, each with an insignia of their military service on the crown, both like to take pictures. “One of the greatest things I learned from my brother,” said Schreibstein. “After you take a shot, turn around. It’s amazing what you see behind you.”
He gave the example of a picture he had taken of a man panhandling. When Schreibstein turned around, he took a picture of “a dog with his head out of car window, looking at the guy.”
Schreibstein is enjoying his late-in-life career as a photographer. “It’s almost like a rejuvenation,” he said. “When you retire, you can sit at home and watch TV — or you can do something...It’s like I got an IV, an energy shot.”