The deafening echo of memories

I met this most affable gentleman on Henry Street today. He shouted at me that he was deaf and processed to tell me at full volume that he met a man on the bus the other day who also had a Canon camera and he (the deaf gentleman) had a plastic bag full of photographs and he showed them to the man with the Canon camera but he (the man with the Canon camera) had arrived to his stop (or had pretended to...) and he wasn't able to show him the rest of the photographs. 
He then proceeded to show me a smaller collection of photographs (mostly from the 80s) of a younger (and my guess is not quite as deaf) version of himself in front of Kylemore Abbey, and at the commands of a steam train engine (with a priest who happened to have a girlfriend at a later stage in his career), and a picket line in Chicago on, and a rally where George Bush (Senior, the truly nasty one) spoke loudly and raised his arms really high in the air. 
I did try to ask a few questions or seek clarification but he wasn't lying when he initially shouted at me that he was death. I don't think he could lip read either. I tried to ask him his name but I am none the wiser. 
He is the deaf man who travelled a lot (mostly in the 80s). 
I enjoyed this ten minute LOUD one way conversation.