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Seven little breathtaking words

If you are a Canon owner, then these tiny words on the baseplate mean you have one of the first 50 Canons specifically marketed commercially outside of Japan:

"Serviced and guaranteed in San Francisco California"

Seven little breathtaking words - Light of Day

At least that is what I found out when I searched on that phrase last night, and discovered a recent article by Canon historian Peter Dechert. You see, that phrase is on a camera that I bought as a poor high school student around 1969 and have managed to hang onto since then. Last summer, I commissioned Dean Williams to do his usual shutter replacement and CLA job on it, not knowing this history. I even sent it uninsured, hoping at the time that I was not throwing good money after worthless hardware.

Far from it. In Peter's article at http://www.shutterbug.net/equipmentr...sic/index.html, he describes where this camera came from:

Quote:

In ‘50, the C. R. Skinner Company, based in San Francisco, became the first factory-authorized US importer of Canon cameras, and a randomly serial numbered batch of about 50 among the trial cameras was allocated to Skinner for sale. Canon must have forgotten this group when they made the distinction about mates for the Rapid Wind Baseplate starting at serial 50200. The Skinner cameras, all with serials between 50000 and 50200, were the flash-synchronized type, trials for the Canon IV. They were specially engraved on their baseplates: “MADE IN OCCUPIED JAPAN/SERVICED AND GUARANTEED IN SAN FRANCISCO CALIFORNIA.” Cameras shipped to Skinner after this original batch do not have such baseplates.

Imagine my excitement as I looked at my model's serial number -- 50069 -- and confirmed that the baseplate had that lettering.

Peter goes on to say,

Quote:

Though uncommon, this Skinner version is the one most widely known today, and we should probably now call it the “Skinner Canon IV-1950.” The fault for having first called it simply “The Canon 1950” is mine alone; I did not know in ‘84 what I know now. Its special importance is that it was the very first Canon designated particularly for the western marketplace. Previous sales to westerners had almost all been through the post-exchange system.

Now we get to the part where my sleeplessness last night started:

Quote:

What are the trial cameras worth today? Depends on how badly you want one, of course, but in the May 2005 WestLicht auction, a Skinner Canon IV-1950 sold for 9000 euro plus buyer’s commission, a total payment of roughly $13,500.

At that point, I was nearly hyperventilating and repeating, "Holy crap!" over and over. I have taken this camera through 3 years of high school yearbook gigs (games, dances, group shots, candids), rock climbing, hiking trips, vacations and family reunions, you name it) before I switched over to my first Canon FT SLR. Dean's careful work has restored some of the years that the locusts have eaten, so I look at its marks as a sign that Canon really made quality stuff back then (thankfully).

This is me, in a mirror shot, with a different beater Canon with an Elmar lens, about 1968, shortly before buying the "Skinner Canon IV-1950" camera. I sold this camera because I thought f/3.5 was embarrassingly slow (probably another gem I should have held onto).

I wish now that I had recorded more of its provenance back when I got it. My best recollection is that I met someone in the local camera store who was trying to get them to sell it there on commission, so we agreed on the spot to a sale (Manny, the store owner, was probably glad not to have to make display space for it), and I got a camera bag that had 2 Canons, a 28mm f/3.5 lens, 28mm finder, some filters, and maybe a cable release or two. This was the older of the two, and I tended to use it for "beater" jobs at the time. I wish I knew who that gentleman was, and his story about how that camera got from San Francisco to Las Cruces, New Mexico in the 18 years or so since its original purchase in 1950.

I didn't really do anything to collect this camera--it just came to me long ago and I only now learned of its unique story. I just wanted to share with you the excitement that unfolded as I did a few searches and slowly started to appreciate what a unique artifact had been banging around in my closets and cabinets for nearly 40 years. This must be what lottery winners go through as the sense of "could this be real" turns from cautious skepticism into wonder, and finally to elation. Woo hoo! What a trip! I still can't really believe that this camera is special to this degree--my life is too pedestrian for this to happen.

So what do you do with a camera you've just learned could be valued more than all your camera collection, or resale on your car, or your furniture (mine, at least)? As for me, I'm going to put a roll of film in it and carefully go celebrate 40 years of mutual appreciation in value between us by taking some photos, and then she goes back on a shelf--I think I'll keep her for sure.

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