I became serious about photography during my first tour of duty with NATO in Izmir, Turkey. I bought my first SLR there and took hundreds of photos.
Learning to be a good photographer was not my initial focus—I needed to learn so I could supervise and rate the three Army Photographers who ran the NATO Photo Lab. I required them to teach me, and they took the task seriously. The more they taught, the more interested I became.
I've thought about building an exhaustive page about my photos from there, but the thought of choosing my best shots gave me pause. This time, I'm taking it slowly, adding a little at a time.
Here, then, are some of my favorite photos from my second home, the beautiful country of Türkiye.
Turkey is my second home. Both ancient and modern, I fell in love with the beautiful, friendly people, the history, and the food. It is a photographer's paradise.
The Turks have extended the sea wall out into the bay to create a beautiful park with palms, bicycle and walking paths, patriotic statues, and music venues. It is The Place to be at sunset.
I sometimes think that I would love to go back with the camera kit I have now, but I know it would never be the same; my friends were always the most important part.
"No man ever steps in the same river twice . . . " ~ HeraclitusKady and I found the perfect apartment for our two-year assignment in 1990. Two combined penthouse apartments made a perfect space fit for our little family, thirteen floors up, situated on a cliff. The wrap-around balcony was large enough for the kids to ride their bikes, and the sliding glass doors opened up most of the bay-side wall.
It was the perfect place to entertain friends or sit out back and watch the sun set.
This tour was the best family time my family and I ever had.
If I've taken only one photo that tells a story, this is the one. The night arrived in Izmir, I wondered at the beauty of all of the twinkling lights on the hill in the center of the city.
Disobeying the command's rules, I walked up the hill at my first opportunity to find that the lights were from the small homes of the poorer Turks living on the mountain. The people there were very nice, and I never felt unsafe.
My Turkish friends hate this photo; the reality of it hurts their pride.
While touring the castle above Izmir with my Turkish language class, I noticed a green space down in the city. On my way back down the mountain on my solo walk, I went that way. It was the ruins of the ancient Agora of Smyrna. Turkey has recently extended the area around the site for excavation, removing newer structures and excavating the ancient city. They have also begun work on the theater, farther up the mountain.
There are so many ancient sites to see in Asia Minor. Everywhere you turn, there are marbled cities in rubble waiting for someone to visit and explore. I enjoyed walking the ones that are visited only by sheep.
I went to Hierapolis on my first trip out of the city with my Sponsor, Rick, and his wife, Liz. They taught me to travel the Turkish way: catch a Minibus to the Autobus garage, find a bus to the nearest town, and use local transportation to the Site.
They taught me well.
Selcuk Castle, Isabey Cami, and The Basilica of Saint John
My first solo trip was to Ephesus. I was very careful about it and had a system. I tried dressing like a Turk, speaking Turkish, carrying a set of prayer beads, following a map everywhere I went, and keeping to myself.
Arriving in Selcuk, I checked into the Kale Han hotel and then walked to the ruins, stopping by the excavation where the temple of Artemis once stood.
I spent three days walking, studying, nd photgraphing the place.
At night, I watched Eurovision with the hotel owner and his family.
Besides the theater, this is the main feature at Ephesus. Built in the 110s CE and destroyed by fire in 262CE, consider what knowledge was lost when the estimated 12,000 scrolls were destroyed.
I ran across this column on a side street to the left of the theater in Ephesus. The excavators wisely left it the way they found it, tilted on its base and resting on the rubble of some long-ago earthquake.
Kady, the kids, Ellen, and I returned to Ephesus in 1991
Canon AE-1 Program, 35-70mm, Kodochrome 64
Searching the city of Bergama with an 80-year-old man as my self-elected guide, I ran across this, a city gate to the old city of Pergamon. You can see the city citadel through the haze on the mountain in the background. I walked up there that day.
This was my second trip out of the city and a day-trip.
The Altar of Zeus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, now resides in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. All that is left of this structure is the foundation, beautiful in its own way. I sat, ate my lunch, and had a good chat with Zeus and Athena.
I mostly traveled alone in '85 & '86.
As my traveling matured, I began reading an English language book on the bus, a signal to young Turks looking to practice their English.
I tried traveling with my only friend, Ellen, whom I met in Turkish language class, but only after Kady had met her.
We went back to Heirapolis.
Traveling with another person is simply not the same. I stopped and went back to traveling solo.
Turkish parents indulge their children but are very protective. I never took a photo of one unless I had the permission of an adult. Often, when I tried to take a photo, every child around jumped into the frame.
I learned to take a bag of Tootsie Rolls with me, to occupy them while I photographed my subject. Tootsie Rolls were perfect—they didn't melt in hot weather and lasted long enough for me to shoot and escape.
The dashing fellow in the cap signaled his approval with a polite nod. His buddy basically ignored me. As I took the shot, the man and his boy walked into my frame. I bought a broom and a mop to say thank you. As I recall, I gave them to my kapici.
These cats motioned me over and indicated I needed to take their photo. In the background is my friend Ellen, who was out with me this day, taking photos in Kultur Park.
Smoking is part of the social structure in Turkiye. Everyone smokes.
The bardic traditions are alive and well in Turkey. Everywhere you go, you'll see men, young and old, sitting around playing the Saz and singing epic tales.
My favorite little bar on 1469 Sokak, in Old Alsancak. Twenty-four years on, the building is now a wine bar; Sardunya still exists a couple of streets over, but the photos don't capture the same vibe. My Turkish friends have all moved away. Matise has closed. My buddies Jerry and Murat have died. It's true - You can't go home again.
Kady, the kiddos, and I went on a carpet-hunting trip in the Yunt mountains with a local rug merchant, Elker.
The entire town was involved in rug production. The men and boys tended the flock, sheared the sheep, and washed and dyed the wool. The little girls did the spinning, and the women and older girls made the carpets.
Taken on my first visit to Troy, you can clearly see the Slope of Troy's Walls mentioned by Homer. I've led two more tours to the site for my soldiers.
I love the story.
Kady and I went to stay at a "summer home" of a friend of a friend. It was not a good time. The little town was nice and the harbor beautiful.
As I became more comfortable with the camera and with the Turks, I would ask permission by pointing at my camera. I only took photos of people who gave me their permission, like these young ladies. My 70 - 210 mm lense was great for this.
I met Ayşe and her family at Kultur Park while photographing the city of Izmir with friends back in 1985. She had striking emerald-green eyes and beautiful chestnut hair, and, of course, my camera was loaded with Tri-X.
I took this during my second assignment to Izmir. The lift was built in 1907 by a wealthy businessman to ease movement up the cliff.
The street is now a beautiful walking mall, called Dario Moreno Street, lined with shops and outdoor cafes. This was quickly pointed out by my Turkish friends when I posted this on Instagram.
While playing pitch in the new park on the First Kordon, one of the officers and I were approached by two very tall, beautiful, and well-dressed young women. "What are you doing?" they asked.
"Playing Baseball," we answered. They wanted to give it a try, and we obliged. It was a riot. I took my first photos of them that night, and it began a fine friendship.
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.
She taught me more about photographing people than anyone else.
She was my favorite of all the models at Divas. and remains a good friend.
Berna 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 a good friend 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.
As my friends and I were walking along the waterfront, we heard Hotel California coming from the Carnivale Klub. We went it, ordered a Beer. The guy singing was good. When he finished his set, the house band took the stage. The singer, Handan Sahin, was gorgeous and had a great voice. My friends left; I stayed.
I went back so often that she began greeting me mid-song as I came in the door and dedicating songs to me.
Alsancal Cami
communing withthe gods of running.
Pammukkale