The Lost Faces of Lafayette: A Time Capsule Unveiled
There’s something profoundly moving about old photographs, especially when they capture moments from a bygone era. Recently, a collection of images from the late 1970s has resurfaced, offering a glimpse into the lives of students at Lafayette Elementary School in Humboldt Park. What makes this particularly fascinating is that these aren’t just any photos—they’re a labor of love by Susan Fell-Lazar, a former substitute teacher who turned her lens on the children she taught. But here’s the kicker: she’s not just sharing these images for nostalgia’s sake. She’s on a mission to reconnect with the faces in those photos, now grown adults, and hand them a piece of their own history.
A Teacher’s Lens, A Community’s Story
Fell-Lazar’s photos are more than just snapshots; they’re a time capsule of a community. Taken between 1977 and 1978, they capture students in classrooms, on playgrounds, and in candid moments of childhood. What many people don’t realize is that these images aren’t just about the individuals—they’re a window into a specific moment in Chicago’s history. Humboldt Park in the ’70s was a vibrant, tightly-knit neighborhood, and Lafayette Elementary was its heartbeat. The school, now shuttered and repurposed, still holds a special place in the hearts of its alumni. Fell-Lazar’s photos are a testament to that enduring connection.
Personally, I think what’s most compelling about this story is the duality of its purpose. On one hand, it’s a deeply personal quest for Fell-Lazar to find her former students. On the other, it’s a broader effort to preserve the history of a community that’s undergone significant change. The fact that Lafayette’s alumni have rallied around initiatives like the Long Live Lafayette archival project speaks volumes about the school’s impact. It’s not just a building; it’s a shared identity.
The Power of Recognition
One thing that immediately stands out is the hope embedded in Fell-Lazar’s project. She hasn’t yet connected with any of the children in her initial batch of photos, but she remains optimistic. This raises a deeper question: What does it mean to see yourself in a photo from decades ago? For the subjects, it could be a chance to relive a moment of innocence, to reconnect with a version of themselves they’ve long forgotten. For Fell-Lazar, it’s an opportunity to bridge the gap between her past and present, to see how those young lives unfolded.
What this really suggests is the enduring power of visual storytelling. Photos have a way of transcending time, of making the past feel tangible. In an age where digital images are fleeting, these physical prints carry a weight that’s hard to replicate. Fell-Lazar’s reluctance to donate or exhibit the photos just yet is understandable—she wants them to find their intended audience first. It’s a respectful approach, one that prioritizes the human connection over public display.
A Broader Reflection on Education and Memory
If you take a step back and think about it, Fell-Lazar’s project is also a commentary on the role of educators in shaping our lives. Teachers often leave an indelible mark on their students, but rarely do they document it in such a personal way. Fell-Lazar’s photos are a reminder of the impact teachers can have, not just academically, but emotionally and culturally. They’re also a reminder of how schools serve as microcosms of society, reflecting the values, struggles, and triumphs of their communities.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the timing of this release. Lafayette Elementary closed in 2013, and its building now houses the Chicago High School for the Arts. The transition is symbolic, a passing of the torch from one generation to the next. But it also underscores the fragility of institutional memory. Without efforts like Fell-Lazar’s and the Long Live Lafayette project, these stories could easily fade into obscurity.
What’s Next for These Lost Faces?
The future of Fell-Lazar’s photos remains uncertain, but that’s part of what makes this story so compelling. Will they find their way into a gallery, becoming a public artifact of Chicago’s history? Or will they remain private mementos, shared only between the teacher and her former students? Either way, their impact is undeniable.
In my opinion, this project is a beautiful reminder of the importance of preserving our collective memory. It’s also a call to action for all of us to dig through our own archives, whether physical or digital, and reflect on the stories we carry. Fell-Lazar’s photos aren’t just about the past—they’re about the connections we forge and the legacies we leave behind.
So, if you’re reading this and you recognize a face in those photos, reach out. You might just be holding the key to a story that’s been waiting decades to be told. And if you’re not in the photos, take a moment to appreciate the power of a single image to bridge time, space, and memory. After all, isn’t that what makes us human?
