Sy Parrish (narrated): The red-eye effect is the result of light rays from a cameras flash, or any other bright light source, entering a subjects dilated pupil, and reflecting back the color red from the epithelial layer of the retina. Scientists will tell you that this tissue in the human eye is similar to the tapetum in nocturnal animals. The tapetal layer doubles the amount of light entering the eye and helps the animal to maneuver and hunt by night. So when we see this red eye effect in photographs of our father, or our own children, it always jolts us. It seems a kind of warning, a kind of unwanted reminder of something. And is often the only truthful detail in the average family snapshot.

Sy Parrish (narrated):
Family photos do keep smiling faces. Births, weddings, holidays, children's birthday parties... People take pictures of the happy moment in their lives. Someone looking through a photo album could conclude we had lead a joyous, leisurely existence. Free of tragedy. No one ever takes a picture of something they want to forget.

Sy Parrish (narrated): I'm sure my costumers never think about it, but these snapshots are their little stand against the flow of time... the shutter clicks, the flash goes off and they've stopped time. These family snapshots are all that stands between us and total oblivion. And if these pictures have anything important to say to future generations, it's this: I was here. I existed. I was young, I was happy and someone cared enough about me in this world... to take my picture.

Sy Parrish (narrated):
If these pictures have anything important to say to future generations it's this: I was here, I existed, I was young, I was happy, and someone cared enough about me in this world to take my picture.

Sy Parrish (narrated): I've done POS mini-lab work for over 20 years now. I consider it an important job. I work with priceless objects. When peoples houses are on fire, what's the first thing they say after their loved ones and pets are safe... The family photos. Most people wouldn't consider this a job of craft but, it is. The way I look at it, the mini-lab machine is like a musical instrument. And like any musical instrument it can be played exquisitely, or poorly, depending on the skill of the performer. Some people think this is a job for a clerk. They actually believe that an idiot attending a two day seminar can master the art of making beautiful prints in less than an hour. But, of course, like most things, there's far more to it than meets the eye.

Sy Parrish (narrated): For most of my costumers, photography is not an art form. The natural part of family life. It's just something they do. A parent who didn't take pictures of their child, especially when they're small, might be considered indifferent.

Sy Parrish (narrated):
When we say we remember an experience from out childhood. Do we really remember it? Or do we remember what the picture of it look like in our photo album? Would we forget it if we didn't have a picture to remind us? Are we afraid that when we're old and senile. Our memories will desert us, and we'll be left with nothing.

Sy Parrish (narrated):
There's no such thing as an innocent photograph. They're not dead thing like some magazine lying in some shoe box. They cast spells.

Sy Parrish (narrated):
According to the Oxford English dictionary, the word snapshot was first used in 1908 by an English sportsman by the name Sir Andrew Hocker. He noted in his diary that almost every bird he shot that day, was taken by snapshot. Snapshot then... was originally a hunting term.

Sy Parrish (narrated): Most people don't take snapshots of the little things: the used band aid, the guy at the gas station, the wasp on the jello. But these are the things that make up the true picture of our lives, people do not take pictures of these things.

Sy Parrish: You're right, that's none of my business. But I'm guessing by your answer and the ring on your finger that you are. That makes you a fortunate man. And I can tell by the way you treated me so far and the way you carry out your job, you're a good man. Good husband, father. And I appreciate this good fortune. You'd never cheat on your wife, hurt your family. Betray her trust. You'd never neglect and abuse your children and make horrible demands of them. You'd never ask you children to do things--things that children shouldn't do! You'd never take disgusting, sick, degrading pictures of your children doing these things! You'd never treat your children like animals. Will Yorkin has it all and he's throwing it away. He's not a good father.