State Road 39 parallels this brick road on the west side of Martinsville, Indiana. For reasons I’ve never been able to uncover, when this segment of SR 39 was rebuilt (including a new bridge across the White River), the old brick road was left behind.
500 feet of this brick road is still in use to provide access to the Morgan County Jail. You can see a tiny bit of the last entrance to the jail’s parking lot in the middle right of the photo. The bricks beyond are left for nature to reclaim.
Logansport’s City Building doesn’t look like much from the outside. I drove by it many times while exploring the Michigan Road without stopping for a photograph. You only get a clue that something interesting may lurk inside when you see the City Building letterforms over the doors.
I made these exterior shots on a Michigan Road day trip my wife and I made recently.
But in 2013 I got to go inside, for a meeting of the Historic Michigan Road Association, and I made a few photographs with my phone. I haven’t shared them before because my phone struggled with the low interior light and I wasn’t terribly happy with how they turned out.
But I’m unlikely to get inside again any time soon, and imperfect photographs are better than no photographs!
Logansport built its City Building in 1925, at a time when the city was flush with cash thanks to the railroads that ran through town.
My research revealed nothing more about the City Building. It’s too bad. It’s a lovely building, lovelier than you’d expect in a city the size of Logansport.
What I like best about the building is the stained-glass skylights on the top floor. You can see one through these doors.
There is more than one skylight, but this is the most prominent of them as it is in the center of the roof, visible as you enter the building and ascend the stairs.
I did my best to hold my phone level while standing directly below this skylight.
Returning now to the present day, my wife and I stayed in Logansport long enough for darkness to fall and the decorations to light up.
Canon PowerShot S95, iPhone 5
I’ve documented Indiana’s historic Michigan Road extensively. To read all about it, click here.
I don’t know a Guernsey from a Holstein from a Hereford. I even had to look up cow breeds on the Internet to be able to write that sentence.
At one company where I used to work, we had an offsite management meeting at Traders Point Creamery, an Indianapolis dairy farm. They rent a small conference room for such things. We were a small company, so all of us managers fit.
While lining up for a group photo, these cows moved by below. Cows and corporate strategy. Not a natural fit.
I’ve reluctantly retired my iPhone 5. I say reluctantly because it was a great phone, at least in terms of its size, usefulness, and usability. What caused me to retire it was one too many hardware problems. I’ll spare you the litany of woes. Suffice it to say that I’d had it with its unreliability. But the iPhone 5 camera was pretty darn good.
iPhone 5, left, next to the phone I had before it, a Palm Pre
That’s what I am writing about here — the iPhone 5 camera. I shot thousands of photos with it, because it was the camera that was always on me, and it was a perfectly competent point and shoot camera that occasionally delivered brilliance.
I got my iPhone 5 on the morning it was released in 2012. The first photo I took with it? A selfie, of course. I still have that shirt.
It was a great selfie tool.
Actually, I shot people with it more often than with any other camera I’ve ever owned.
The iPhone 5 did surprisingly well in low light. I loved using the it to capture sunrises and sunsets, and I wasn’t afraid to use it indoors without flash.
The iPhone 5 did reasonable close-up work.
It was also a great road-trip companion. I shoot mostly my Canon PowerShot S95 while I’m on the road, but the iPhone 5 had two great uses: if I wasn’t sure I’d remember exactly where I took a shot, the iPhone 5 would do that for me, because it geotagged each photo. And it was great for letting me update Facebook or text friends with what I was seeing, from the scene.
But mostly I used my iPhone 5 to say, “I’m here, doing this, right now.” It was a whole new use of a camera to me: a way to casually record a moment, and if I wanted, to communicate it wordlessly and immediately to anyone I know. This led me to take all sorts of shots I never would have otherwise — shots that, years on, invoke memories I might otherwise have lost.
My iPhone 5 captured most scenes with great sharpness and color. Sometimes, when I shot a scene with my wonderful Canon S95 and followed it with an iPhone 5 shot to grab geolocation, I liked the iPhone shot better! And focusing by touching the screen is brilliant and works flawlessly.
But the iPhone 5 camera isn’t perfect. Highlights blow out with it all the time, as you can see in many of these photos. And it can be hard to hold steady. Firing the shutter is accomplished by either an on-screen button or by pressing one of the physical volume buttons on the phone, and none of these is placed conveniently. And the Apple software that automatically uploads shots to my computer doesn’t always work.
I’ve used this camera less and less lately because the lens had become dinged and scratched, and those marks showed in all my shots. When I had yet another hardware problem with it recently, I threw in the towel and upgraded to an iPhone 6S. It was stupefyingly expensive — my desktop computer cost as much. But I vastly prefer iOS over Android, and I’m taken with the cameras Apple makes. But memo to Apple: my new iPhone had better be a paragon of reliability, or I’ll defect to Android and never look back.
If you like old film cameras, check out all of my reviews here! To get Down the Road in your inbox or feed reader, subscribe here.
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50th anniversary iPhone 5 2014
These are my parents, two years ago on their 50th wedding anniversary, standing on the steps of the church where they were married.
