boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Yeah, I like it a lot, too. Thanks for the kind words.
People I Met Along The Way
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Yeah, I like it a lot, too. Thanks for the kind words.
Bob Michaels
nobody special
Charlo Inabnet, a real life "coonass". from Hopedale Louisiana (that's way down in the bayou) This photo is from 2006, a few months after hurricane Katrina destroyed the little fishing community of Hopedale. Charlo was the only survivor as all the women and children had been sent to New Orleans and no other men survived. He survived by tying himself in the top of a tree. Whenever I found myself within 150 miles of Hopedale, I would go down and visit Charlo, always an interesting all night conversation in his little trailer. Too proud to accept a FEMA trailer, he insisted on buying his own.
Charlo tried to rebuild his life for 4 years even though his fishing boat was destroyed, and the docks that bought shrimp and oysters never rebuilt. Charlo lived on Budweiser, Marlboro's, and prepared food from the convenience store that finally reopened. His life, as it had always existed, was gone but he never gave up hope. The last I saw Charlo, he took me down to the monument on the canal that listed the names of the 200 men from Hopedale that died in Katrina. He said "Bob, these were my friends, ALL of my friends". He died a few months later, one of the final Katrina victims.
Charlo tried to rebuild his life for 4 years even though his fishing boat was destroyed, and the docks that bought shrimp and oysters never rebuilt. Charlo lived on Budweiser, Marlboro's, and prepared food from the convenience store that finally reopened. His life, as it had always existed, was gone but he never gave up hope. The last I saw Charlo, he took me down to the monument on the canal that listed the names of the 200 men from Hopedale that died in Katrina. He said "Bob, these were my friends, ALL of my friends". He died a few months later, one of the final Katrina victims.
Bob Michaels
nobody special
Marilyn, from Claremont Harbor, an unincorporated community on the western Mississippi Gulf Coast that was destroyed by hurricane Katrina a few months earlier in 2006. There was no trace of the little bar she had inherited from her parents Harold and Lillian. Someone had found the original sign a mile or so inland and returned it but there was nothing else. Marilyn was living in a FEMA trailer and asked if I could help her get government assistance to rebuild but had problems establishing there ever was a business. I replied that should be simple using income tax returns. There was a long pause when she said they had never done that. I asked about a state liquor license. Another pause, "no" her parents had never had a license, nor had she. Her parents, and then Marilyn had spent two generations back in a little Mississippi coastal community totally off the radar from any federal, state, or local taxing authorities.
Marilyn did eventually get a government grant to rebuild another little backwoods bar that I would visit whenever I was close. Unfortunately, Marilyn's obesity, alcohol consumption, and smoking caused her to live only a few years more. I don't know if Harold and Lillian's bar is still there.
Related, Charlo Inabnet from my previous post grew up in Claremont Harbor and knew Harold and Lillian. Marilyn remembered Charlo from her youth was a good regular customer.
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Marilyn did eventually get a government grant to rebuild another little backwoods bar that I would visit whenever I was close. Unfortunately, Marilyn's obesity, alcohol consumption, and smoking caused her to live only a few years more. I don't know if Harold and Lillian's bar is still there.
Related, Charlo Inabnet from my previous post grew up in Claremont Harbor and knew Harold and Lillian. Marilyn remembered Charlo from her youth was a good regular customer.
View attachment 485466[/ATTACH]
Bob Michaels
nobody special
Captain Leroy Brown sits in the passenger section of his Convair 240 back in 2013. Why a then blind 90 year old retired airline captain would own a 1951 Convair airliner is a story unto itself. But his life was a series of stories. I worked for Leroy in 1963 converting 3 B-17 (WWII bombers) he owned into crop dusters to spread Myrex to try to eradicate fire ants.
Leroy spent his working career as one of the original captains for National Airlines and then a captain for PanAm airlines but usually in trouble with the FAA. Leroy's first run in with authorities was in his youth while working as a crop duster in south Florida but with no pilot license, no log book, and no evidence of having gone to flight school. When I worked for Leroy, he was accumulating citations for flying a B-17 without a copilot. All eventually dismissed as there was no regulation saying no copilot was illegal because it was considered impossible to do. But Leroy did it all the time.
Leroy spent his working career as one of the original captains for National Airlines and then a captain for PanAm airlines but usually in trouble with the FAA. Leroy's first run in with authorities was in his youth while working as a crop duster in south Florida but with no pilot license, no log book, and no evidence of having gone to flight school. When I worked for Leroy, he was accumulating citations for flying a B-17 without a copilot. All eventually dismissed as there was no regulation saying no copilot was illegal because it was considered impossible to do. But Leroy did it all the time.
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Most of us who live in the urban, suburban and exurban area live in blissful ignorance of what goes on "out in the country." Having a piccolo with no licenses seems OK to me. Whats all the fuss? In my area most of this is confined to hunting licenses for elk. The wardens seem blind if you are feeding your family. You know as do I that there are hard times out in the country and the warden will not arrest a man for feeding his family. Licenses and tags are kind of a joke for some folks and there are some big elk around here. Just don't get caught with only the head or antlers and no license. That earns you a trip to the judge.
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
I met this fellow, a baker, in Santa Rosalia, Baja California Sur. It is a small town in the high desert. He runs a bakery where he takes in street kids and teaches them the trade. There are always openings up and down the Baja peninsula for bakers. A friend and I asked could we take pictures and he said yes. "Con permiso" is how it is done in Mexico. I also told him I would run off some prints for him out of what I took. He just smiled. I came back a month or two later with two 8.5 x 11 laminated and a few 4 x 6's He was quite surprised. He said people were always taking pictures and promising him copies. I was the first to follow through. The first is him in front of his bakery. It is the favorite of all I have shot. It was one of the laminated ones. I forget the other. This was in 2001 and I cautioned him to keep them out of the sunlight because they would fade. He assured me it was not a problem, he was taking all of them home. It is just like my grandma taught me, "One hand washes the other."
OK, first the master baker, second he and his crew and above it all a link to the Flickr folder where they live.
flic.kr
My favorite photo by West Phalia, on Flickr
The crew for their photo #4 by West Phalia, on Flickr
OK, first the master baker, second he and his crew and above it all a link to the Flickr folder where they live.
Bakery - Santa Rosalia, BCS
The bakery is run by the fellow in the white cap and glasses with a white moustache. He has youngsters working for him from the area who have no future . He teaches them a trade and "raises" them before letting them go to work as bakers up and down the Baja peninsula. The bakery is in the...
flic.kr
My favorite photo by West Phalia, on FlickrThe crew for their photo #4 by West Phalia, on Flickr
Retro-Grouch
Veteran
Some of the nicest stuff you've posted! That first photo is absolutely a gem.I met this fellow, a baker, in Santa Rosalia, Baja California Sur. It is a small town in the high desert. He runs a bakery where he takes in street kids and teaches them the trade. There are always openings up and down the Baja peninsula for bakers. A friend and I asked could we take pictures and he said yes. "Con permiso" is how it is done in Mexico. I also told him I would run off some prints for him out of what I took. He just smiled. I came back a month or two later with two 8.5 x 11 laminated and a few 4 x 6's He was quite surprised. He said people were always taking pictures and promising him copies. I was the first to follow through. The first is him in front of his bakery. It is the favorite of all I have shot. It was one of the laminated ones. I forget the other. This was in 2001 and I cautioned him to keep them out of the sunlight because they would fade. He assured me it was not a problem, he was taking all of them home. It is just like my grandma taught me, "One hand washes the other."
OK, first the master baker, second he and his crew and above it all a link to the Flickr folder where they live.
Bakery - Santa Rosalia, BCS
The bakery is run by the fellow in the white cap and glasses with a white moustache. He has youngsters working for him from the area who have no future . He teaches them a trade and "raises" them before letting them go to work as bakers up and down the Baja peninsula. The bakery is in the...
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I love that photo. It captures the baker 100%, with the kid climbing up the stairs for his free cookie. He gave the local kids a cookie. He was just a really nice guy. It was a great day. And those gorgeous rolls, Boleos, were wonderful with butter smeared across their piping hot insides. My buddy, Bob, introduced me to the place. He's in the photos, too. He was a fun guy. That's when I lived in Mulegé which is about 25 miles down the road.
And keep in mind, the first photo is the master baker having his pic taken by another gringo who is promising him copies. He had been down that road a few times. The pale kid on the right in the baseball cap had a gringo dad who skipped town. So that baker is making a huge difference in another street kid's life. That master baker was like a good and kindly parish priest. I am grateful to have met him as he made my life better. QED I have had a very lucky life.
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boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
I am on the edge of the Columbia River here and fishing and lumbering are big. Farming is also big. This is from the county ag fair some years back. This young fellow has brought his calf and is proud and a little bored at this point. He has spent most of the day with the calf and dealt with the curious, young and old. And it is a lesson for him as a young farmer that as much as he adores this young calf it is destined for the table. I am sure he has had to contemplate that through the day.
Rick Waldroup
Well-known
Mr. Humanity - Austin, Texas - March 2007
I have encountered him several times at various political anti-war protests in Austin.
Nikon D2H
I have encountered him several times at various political anti-war protests in Austin.
Nikon D2H
Rick Waldroup
Well-known
Bikers With Their Favorite Lamp - Granbury, Texas - November 2014
I had a gig shooting a local VFW Hall charity event for bikers. I set up a tent, brought in a huge 10x10 patriotic backdrop and shot photos of bikers with their bikes.
The fellow in the photo had lost a leg in the Gulf War and was riding a really small, vintage Honda motorcycle. He pulled in and his girlfriend suddenly remembered she had left their favorite lamp and went back inside to retrieve it.
At first, I wasn't sure that I heard her right, but just a few minutes later she came back with this lamp, hopped on board, and flashed a big smile. A while later, the fellow told me they traveled everywhere with the lamp. Over the past 40 years I have shot many events and literally thousands of people, but I have never seen anyone with a favorite lamp. After it was over, I had a beer with the couple inside the VFW Hall. We sat there, drinking our beer with the lamp sitting next to us on the floor.
Olympus E-M5
I had a gig shooting a local VFW Hall charity event for bikers. I set up a tent, brought in a huge 10x10 patriotic backdrop and shot photos of bikers with their bikes.
The fellow in the photo had lost a leg in the Gulf War and was riding a really small, vintage Honda motorcycle. He pulled in and his girlfriend suddenly remembered she had left their favorite lamp and went back inside to retrieve it.
At first, I wasn't sure that I heard her right, but just a few minutes later she came back with this lamp, hopped on board, and flashed a big smile. A while later, the fellow told me they traveled everywhere with the lamp. Over the past 40 years I have shot many events and literally thousands of people, but I have never seen anyone with a favorite lamp. After it was over, I had a beer with the couple inside the VFW Hall. We sat there, drinking our beer with the lamp sitting next to us on the floor.
Olympus E-M5
robert blu
quiet photographer
terrific photo, great story. Thanks for sharing
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Don't keep your light under a bushel. ;o)
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
This is in a little hidden diner on the DelMarVa Peninsulla, The Little Acorn. I liked it and was taking a lot of photos. The folks there and the young lady on the right were pretty sure I was doing a restaurant review at the least, maybe scouting for Hollywood glamour stars. The woman on the left is quite skeptical.
The boss is skeptical but the waitress is sure that a movie contract is in the offing. by West Phalia, on Flickr
The boss is skeptical but the waitress is sure that a movie contract is in the offing. by West Phalia, on Flickr
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
This is while I lived in Mexico. Some friends and I took a run down to the coast from Ajijic. This is in Manzanillo. If you look into the leaves, there is Jimmy, hamming it up. He was a good guy and some crazy fun. And he liked to ham it up.
Manzanillo, MX by West Phalia, on Flickr
Manzanillo, MX by West Phalia, on Flickr
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
This is a folkloric re-enactment in the Patzcuaro main square on the afternoon of the first night of the Day of the Dead, 31 October. This event is a very big deal, especially in this area. These three were shot with the 3MP CCD sensor in a Sony DSC S70. Yeah, CCD does have some charm.
Kids dressed for a folkloric re-enactment in Patzcuaro at Day of the Dead by West Phalia, on Flickr
Kids dressed for a folkloric re-enactment in Patzcuaro at Day of the Dead by West Phalia, on Flickr
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boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Here is a biigger sensor and CMOS BSI, but still OK. The fellow is part of the crew restoring the old Baldwin locomotive here in Astoria. It is supposed to be launched (?) this year. Some wives around here love that thing. It gets their husbands out of the house on Saturday and some on Wednesday, too.
B0000572 by West Phalia, on Flickr
B0000572 by West Phalia, on Flickr
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
I was riding through a town on the west shore of Lake Patzcuaro and wanted a photo of this doorway. My lucky day! This fellow strode through the doorway of this bodega. He makes the picture. Brazen, cigarette in his lips, bold stride; I hope he is still alive.
Street kid, Juaracuaro, MCH, MX by West Phalia, on Flickr
Street kid, Juaracuaro, MCH, MX by West Phalia, on Flickr
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boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Here's a face you won't forget. In the Lagoon of Guererro Negro, Scammon's Lagoon, Grey Whales migrate to calve. No longer hunted they are quite tame. And they like to play with the tour boats. They will rise under the boat enough to give it a good bump but not flip it. They will exhale hugely to send bubbles around they boat. They will come alongside and spray the boat as this whale is doing. They come alongside to be petted and feel like and overinflated plastic garbage bag. Mommas will show off their calves, but they are always between the calf and the boat. It is probably the best US$20 I ever spent. It is amazing how friendly and intelligent the whales are. And here's old Mr. Spray the Tourists.
See! Spraying the boat. ;o) by West Phalia, on Flickr
See! Spraying the boat. ;o) by West Phalia, on Flickr
boojum
Ignoble Miscreant
Astoria qualifies as small town America with a population of about 10,000. It is an isolated community, too, stuck out on the coast with about three smaller towns between it and Portland. And youth baseball is big out here. The kids do their best and their parents are there to root them on. The parents are orderly as are the kids. I am guessing the "W" on the uniforms is for Warrenton, a smaller town nearby, much smaller. About 6,300 in 2020.
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