Sex, crimes and rock 'n' roll: How a business in small-town Saskatchewan is unlocking lost history

financialpost.com:

Miriam was losing hope. She had found an old undeveloped roll of film in a forgotten camera in a corner of her mother Goldie’s apartment in Brooklyn, N.Y., after the 92-year-old passed away. Her father Sigi had predeceased her mom. Sigi was a Holocaust survivor, a Polish Jew, who came to New York after the war, met an American girl and they made a life together.

Now, they were both gone, and their daughter had nothing left to hold on to apart from her memories, and a film roll that was driving her halfway around the bend with curiosity.

“It became really important for me to know what was on that film,” said Miriam, who lives in Staten Island, and out of shyness requested that only her first name be used.

She embarked on a determined yet fruitless search around New York to find a photography shop, pharmacy or big-box store to develop the film. But not a soul knew a thing about processing Kodacolor II film in a 126-cartridge format — and with good reason. Eastman Kodak Co. discontinued Kodacolor II in 1983.

Outside hardcore shutterbugs, everyone else has long since ceased taking pictures with old-fashioned cameras using film that requires actual processing, let alone film that is 40 years past its best-before date.

But Miriam did not quit, and an internet search led her to Film Rescue International, a small company in the small town of Indian Head, Sask., population 1,900, give or take. There was a 1-800 phone number on the company’s website. Miriam dialled it with no real expectation of getting an answer, but a friendly-sounding voice picked up.

“I like to say we open time capsules for a living,” said Greg Miller, company co-founder and a frequent fielder of random phone calls from folks in far-flung places keen to unlock