The Future of the Past Exhibit

• Internship Program
• Donations of $25 or more get rewards

Who Shot Me—Stories Unprocessed is an investigative journey into a defining era of the San Francisco Bay Area’s not-so-distant past. Your contributions to this project will help us process 75 rolls of film that remain locked in time, uncover clues, and share the living memories of people we connect with. With your toolkit, we might solve the mystery behind our unrecognized photographer’s disappearance.

Our team has already begun the discovery process. To gain momentum, we need a community of citizen researchers. Your stories, discoveries, and commentary will be recognized in our book, The Future of the Past, and our documentary film.

We will process the remaining 75 rolls of film and debut the results in an exclusive live stream for our Kickstarter supporters.

You will receive your toolkits and be ready to investigate images, look for clues, and contribute to our database.

As our database grows, the vision for the book will evolve. Future of the Past will be designed to include your discoveries, stories, and commentary.

Publish book, create an interactive exhibit, and documentary film will follow. 

In the 1980s, a bag was discovered filled with dozens of pages of color slides and hundreds of rolls of carefully labeled but unprocessed film. A picker bought it at a public auction and then sold it to a collector. The work reached two Bay Area historians in the 1980s, who meticulously began developing the film to reveal its hidden contents.

It’s been 58 years since a photographer set out to capture the first of thousands of images, but somehow, they were separated from their work. This story is compelling because over half of the film was left unprocessed; most were never seen by the photographer who made them. The work is dated between 1966 and 1970.

My first experience sharing the work was with a pal, Katy; it left me stunned. I randomly selected five photos from thousands and texted them. Within minutes, Katy called back and said, “I see myself.” She was five years old, wide-eyed, and walking with her family while holding onto her sister’s stroller. She was crossing in front of people marching against the unjust treatment of migrant farmworkers. It was 1968 on Dolores Street.

My second experience was equally shocking. Within days of the “Katy sighting,” I got a call from Amanda; I’d worked with her in Blue Sky, my studios in San Francisco. She asked if she could share a few. She was on her way to visit her friend Stanley Mouse. I sent her an equally random selection of five images. She called back and said he was in one. Stanley Mouse is the artist who designed the Grateful Dead’s iconic Skeleton & Roses poster. He was walking through Golden Gate Park to see Jerry and the band.

The third time the work was shared, a musician friend, Clemon Charles, asked if he could share some with the owner of a Sacramento music venue, who once worked at the legendary Fillmore West. This connection led to Michael Zagaris, a San Francisco-based photojournalist. Zagaris recounted a decisive moment from his career: he was on stage photographing Muhammad Ali as he addressed civil rights activists and the anti-war community. Ali turned to Zagaris and asked if he had his draft card. When he handed it over, Ali burned it onstage. Zagaris still holds onto what’s left of it.