Insane Earthlings

I loved watching my dad switch into photographer mode. He knew a great shot the instant he saw it. We could be anywhere when he might suddenly spot a scene that called out to him that it needed to be photographed. He would stomp on the brakes and cause lenses and film canisters to come rolling out from under the seat of the car. His camera was always close by. He might use his shirt to give the lens a quick dusting. In an instant, he would change from Dad to Spot News Tom. He would approach the subject with confidence. He somehow conveyed, without words, that he was supposed to be doing exactly what he was doing; taking pictures of a random stranger. He might snap a few quick shots before the subject stopped doing whatever it was that my father saw a great feature picture in.   Then he would put out his hand, smiling all the way, and say, “How ya’ doin’? Tom Franklin, The Charlotte Observer.” I loved that part. He said it with real authority, but in a warm voice. ...

As a photographer, Dad preferred to shoot using natural light. This required setting the aperture wide open, slowing the shutter speed way down, and keeping a steady hand. It’s kind of how he lived his life: Eyes wide open and observing. Taking it all in at a leisurely pace. Using natural light was not the easiest way to take a picture, but the result was always more beautiful, more real, more life-like than an image made using a flash.   Dad understood that his job was that of a craftsman. He instinctively knew that capturing moments of real lives was important, not because of any high-brow ideas about art, but because EACH -   MOMENT -of - our –LIVES- Matter. I can’t count the number of times that someone has told me that my father took the best picture that had ever been made of them. Some days, people would call our house just to tell Dad how much they enjoyed one of his photographs in the paper that day. Dad would downplay his talent. He...