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"I looked up and looked for the girl, and she had gone."~ E. Hemingway, A Movable Feast
SW
My daughter's college roommate, and a frequent flyer at our house, came to work at VMI for a short while. She did a fine job.
We snuck out of the office during exams for a photo session on the Blue Ridge. She was, by far, the easiest person I have ever photographed. I never had to give her any direction. She moved seamlessly from pose to pose and hesitated for me to press the shutter.
She's married and a mom now, living in California. We don't stay in touch.
EH
Erica and Dogs
Last Cadet
Every year at VMI, I was adopted by a Cadet. This is my last one. She was such a frequent visitor to my office that I set up my small conference table as a study area for her, even giving her after-duty access to my office to escape the nonsense in Barracks.
Now a Marine officer and married, I rarely hear from her. This photo was taken during a visit to Monticello.
The sunglasses are a necessity; it is amazing how often people mistake her for Anne Hathaway.
Sweetie
Ryan became a close friend when the VMI community was dealing with the suicide of one of her Brother Rats.
I've had the good fortune of photographing her a few times. She's a natural in front of the camera, as sweet as she is beautiful, and was one of my favorite photo subjects. It's not hard to see why.
She's moved away from Virginia. I have stopped trying to stay in touch.; it was too one-sided. Will I ever photograph her again?
I asked an all-knowing seer—"Outlook Not So Good."
Jeep Girl
Once one of my cadets, she and I stayed in touch for a while after graduation. Not anymore.
The top photo is of her driving her Jeep out in Collierstown VA. The bottom is of her wearing a dress of her own design, made from VMI Cadet uniforms, walking in the Bushong orchard at New Market Battlefield.
PBG
I've taken beautiful photos of this girl since she was seventeen, proms, homecomings, and such. This is one of the few that I kept.
Once one of my daughter's high school friends, her story is a sad one of bad things and wrong choices. I hope that one day, she gets it together and reaches her potential.
She has been given a new chance and the perfect reason to do that now.
Dansçi
The girl is gone, my photos remain singular. Hence, I will include a few.
The Girls of Summer, Izmir, 2001
In the Summer of 2001, after my deployment to Kosovo, I met and photographed some of the prettiest and sweetest young women I have ever met.
While playing pitch in the new park on the First Kordon, one of the officers and I were approached by two strikingly tall and beautiful, well-dressed young women. We moved from there to the Eko Pub, and then to my place as the night air cooled. I took my first photos of them that night.
This was the beginning of a fine friendship and working relationship.
Sevda owned Divas Ajans in Izmir. After I demonstrated what I could do with a camera, she had me photograph her business and her models. Tough Job! I also helped her build her first website.
When she needed my help, I left work. It was always fun.
I would love to photograph her again.
Berna is Sevda's friend and helped run Divas Ajans. Since her second language is French, we had to communicate using my mostly forgotten bad French, gestures, and through Sevda's translations.
She was a sweet and lovely girl, with hair so black that it looked blue in the sunlight. Her face was best described as Angelic.
I owe her a tour of the Christian churches in Izmir - reason enough to go back
Two of my officers and I met G'ser at Sarduna the night she was celebrating the completion of her teaching degree. As the guys and I stood to leave, she told us we couldn't go because she was still thirsty. We sat back down.
She became one of my closest friends that summer, adopting me as a cultural orphan, including me in activities with her friends, and refusing to let me sit in my apartment. Sadly, I've lost contact with her.
One night, as my friends and I were walking along the waterfront, we heard Hotel California coming from a club. We went it, ordered a Beer. The guy singing was good. When he finished his set, the house band took the stage. The singer was gorgeous. My friends left; I stayed.
I went back often, alone and with friends. Soon, she began greeting me mid-song as I came in the door and dedicating songs to me.
Handan became famous after I left. You can find her on YouTube.
The night before I left, I saw her sing one last time. The entire band and Carnivale Club staff followed me out to say güle güle. There may have been tears.
Gone But Not Forgotten
When I bring my cameras to family gatherings, I always get a lot of guff. None of them realized that I was creating a historical record for future generations— I was giving them a small bit of immortality. The photos below illustrate that fact.
Dad
Cookie
Mom
Sil
Wild Bill
Swift-footed Cooper
Shoutouts
Mom's Photo of Dad with his Olympus 35-S Rangefinder, using her Kodak Brownie, about 1961. Mom and Dad gave me my first camera. They were both fine photographers.
Gil Moreau, Jim Llewellyn, and Bob Doucette
Thanks to these lads, Army Photographers, and my first photo mentors. Bob helped me pick out my first SLR, a Canon AE-1 Program, a flash, and a couple of lenses. Jim helped me find a good camera bag. Gill gave me expired film, taught me how to develop it, make prints, and operate the NATO Darkroom. They walked me around Izmir, teaching me to use the camera, giving me a ton of advice.
"Color takes care of you; you have to work really hard to get a good black and white photograph." ~ Gil Moreau
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