A Photo Beginning

Until I was 18 or so I did not have much use for photography. I associated the click of the shutter with the commands of relatives to line up this way or that, to smile just so, and the invariable command, “hold it, let me take one more”. These family photo ops always came at the most inopportune times causing interruption in some then important childhood preoccupation. I laugh when I now get the same disgusted look from my kids when I pick up the camera at family get-togethers.

It was during college that the photography bug bit me in the butt. My freshman literary and journalism courses were all 100 level type classes, except one. Photography was a requirement. I managed to talk my way into an upper level photography group. I wanted to take pictures, not learn the rudiments of camera operation, composition, lighting, all of those “irrelevant” technical details.

I am sure my professor was nonplussed to have to deal with a lowly freshman. He informed me solemnly the first day of class that not having a camera was a definite problem. I glanced around the room which contained twenty or so upper classmen. Each and every one of them had bags of equipment, tripods leaning in corners, and multiple cameras, some with lenses bigger than my rifle. My response was a meek “yes, sir”.

That night I called my dad. It is possible that no one on the planet has taken more pictures than him. Unfortunately they are not of the highest quality. It is a long standing family joke that many of his frames are the toe of a boot or the blue of the sky rather than any particular subject matter.

Leica cameras have always been one of the Cadillac’s of photography. I pleaded, cajoled, and finally convinced him to lend me his older Leica. The warning which accompanied the loan was stern. “Don’t even think of losing this camera. If you do you will wish you would have died”. I knew the story behind the camera. He had obtained it during the war while serving in Germany for the OSS, the precursor to current CIA. I understood its importance and sentimental value. I vowed to myself that I would keep it safe and return it unharmed.

To be continued . . .

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