Gertrude returns

The idea itself wasn't all that original: I would set two cameras loose upon the world and wait to see if either one would return. Each package was self-addressed, and I affixed more than enough postage to pay for the return shipping. Inside the clear plastic envelopes, I included the camera, a small notebook for people to write notes, a pen, and a letter that explained the experiment and asked the recipient to take a picture, then drop the envelope off someplace interesting.

The plan was to leave the cameras in Indiana when I went there for a conference at the beginning of October. I spent four days in Bloomington, on the IU campus. So I could get a broader potential audience, I left one package in a study hall, where students would find it, and I left the other package in a room where conference participants checked their e-mail.

I orchestrated the drops so that no one would notice me leaving the packages -- I didn't want anyone to be able to connect me to them directly. I wanted to keep the whole scenario as mysterious as possible. At the last minute, I removed the mailing label with my name and replaced it with one with Claudia's name on it. And then I left them, checking back periodically to see if the packages had disappeared yet.

The package in the study lounge was the first to disappear. I rather expected that someone who found the camera nicknamed "Gertrude" would be likely to leave a comment at the web page referenced in the package, or would send a message to the e-mail address set up specifically for that purpose, but nothing came, and I started to worry that she might've been thrown away by a student or a cleaning person.

"Abigail" took longer to disappear. When I checked back several hours later, she had moved about a foot but was still present in the e-mail room. However, the following morning, she was gone.

At lunch that day, Kara and I picked a random table, one with just two other people eating their meals, and we started polite conversation. It was several minutes before one of the men we'd joined asked me, with a strange expression on his face, "Do you know Abigail?"

It took me a second before I realized what he was talking about. "Maybe," I replied, more from my uncertainty of his reaction than as an attempt to be coy. He told me she'd be going to Pittsburgh the following day, and I was thrilled. It was the first bit of camera experiment feedback that I'd gotten, and it was amazing because we'd chosen to join their table. I took his picture, naturally, but he didn't want it posted on the Internet.

After that, I didn't hear anything from either camera, until I received a comment a few days ago on Gertrude's page. And then, just two or three days later, she arrived in the mail. The package was missing its little notebook, so I have no idea if anyone had written anything interesting, and only twelve or thirteen of the twenty-seven pictures had been taken. Apparently, one of Gertrude's recipients didn't read the letter very carefully, because they seem to have missed the point. But I'm thrilled to have her back home, and as promised, I'll have the pictures developed and posted soon.

Abigail, sadly, is still missing. She was last seen on her way to Pittsburgh, PA.