On this day in 1886, Rudolph Johnson was born in Bornholm, Denmark. A few years later, he immigrated to the United States with his parents, eventually settling in the Pacific Northwest. There, after raising a family, he bought land in the Bald Hills region of rural Thurston County, Washington, and in 1943, he founded a nudist club called the Cobblestone Suntanners.
Today, in honor of what would have been Rudolph’s 139th birthday (if he were a vampire or something), I’m sharing a short film I’ve assembled from rare archival footage. As Rudolph’s great-great-grandson, his story has fascinated me for years, and I’ve long had a passion for making a feature-length documentary film about his life and the movement he helped shape. Admittedly, however, that’s a longer-term project—one I’m already about ten years deep into. In that time, I’ve been doing the slow, hands-on work of discovery: collecting records, gathering stories, and—most obsessively—scanning reels of original film. I’ve scanned dozens of hours of 8mm and 16mm film, frame by frame, hour by hour.
The film I’m sharing today, available exclusively to paid Planet Nude subscribers, is one small but joyful result of that effort. It features Rudolph Johnson, as well as several other iconic figures in mid-century American nudism, including leaders Ray Connett, Mervin Mounce, and Ed Lange, among others.
Also featured is a man named Harold Salmer and his wife, Betty, nudists and members of the Cobblestone Suntanners Club. It was Harold, who, along with Betty (and often close friends), captured this footage in 1957, when they spent the summer traveling to nudist events and conventions across the Pacific Northwest with a movie camera in hand. The film you’ll see here represents just a small slice of the larger archive of his efforts.
These original reels were preserved thanks to the AANR Northwest Archive and are now housed by the Western Nudist Research Library. The footage was scanned and restored by me and is used here with permission.
What isn’t used with permission is the music. The film is primarily set to “Picture Book” by The Kinks. I love The Kinks. I have no idea what the song is technically about, but I’ve always associated it with history, family, and—somehow—nudism. Just listen to the lyrics:
“A picture of you in your birthday suit
You sat in the sun on a hot afternoon.”
Alright, it’s just one lyric, but if you ask me, it fits. There’s a spirit of joy and remembrance in it that pairs so naturally with the footage, it’s hard for me not to smile when watching this. Other tracks sampled are by the wonderful band Tin Hat Trio. I love this music, and I respect that they need to make money, but it’s still my hope that Ray Davies isn’t reading this and I don’t get sued.
Because the film includes archival nudity—including families—it is behind a paywall, both to filter it from public search and to ensure it’s viewed by a mature, supportive audience. None of the nudity is graphic or sexual in any way. It is presented as documentation of cultural history and is intended purely for educational and archival purposes. This project is not intended for profit—any revenue from new subscriptions generated by this post will be donated to the Western Nudist Research Library.
This short piece is one of many fragments I’ve been stitching together in an effort to better understand the legacy of my family—and of American nudism. I hope it brings you the same sense of wonder and warmth it brings me. 🪐
