Through Bob Roddick’s Lens: A Grainy Glimpse from 75 Years Ago

I thought some of you might appreciate this little time capsule. Back in 1950, Bob Roddick was just a young hot rodder with a camera and an eye for the world around him. What kind of camera? Hell if I know… He shot 35mm film, which was no small deal back then—pretty rare, in fact. His early color negatives are labeled Kodak Eastman Color, but the later ones carry the Kodachrome badge. Can I tell the difference? Not a chance. For all I know, it’s all just Kodachrome, but maybe someone smarter can set me straight.
His black-and-white film stock, though, is a full-blown mystery. They’re marked Kodak, but that’s it—no other details, no smoking gun to identify the stock. The negatives are a wild ride: chunky, chaotic grain and a ton of contrast. Maybe it’s the film itself, or maybe it’s just the slow decay of time gnawing at the emulsion. Either way, it’s got character.
So I thought, why not put these old ghosts to work? I grabbed a couple of his negatives and went to town, printing them up to see what they’d say. The results? Beautiful in their rawness. That grain is a revelation—thick, unapologetic, alive. The dynamic range is practically nonexistent, but the binary, punch-you-in-the-gut look feels like it belongs. It’s pure. Honest. No frills, no tricks, just the soul of the shot laid bare.
Now, let’s be clear: I’d never sell a print of someone else’s work. That’s not the game I’m playing. But giving a few away? That’s another story. So if you’ve got a mailbox, keep an eye on it. You never know when Bob’s lens might come knocking.