Randy Eli Grothe Farewell

My wife forwarded me a “Farewell” post from recently laid off Dallas Morning News photographer Randy Eli Grothe, which was posted at DMN:cuts blog. I was privileged to work with Randy (and a whole shit load of talented photographers at the DMN in the early parts of my career). Randy was a incredibly talented photographer and just the coolest guy. I remember parties involving tons of Shiner Bock, loud music and outdoor ping pong tables at his East Dallas home.

I got into this business late and was myself forced out (or never let fully in, not sure which) from newspapers. It was all I had ever wanted to do. Journalism had become respectable by the time I got around it. Journalists, even photojournalists, had graduate degrees and Ivy League pedigrees. During my short tenure at the DMN, though, I got to listen to guys like Randy, John, Jim, Juan, Irwin, etc., tell stories of the old days. Jesus, it sounded fun.

So, while it might take you half a day to read Randy’s farewell, it’s worth reading as a wonderful recap of what sounds like a wonderful career and could almost be a eulogy for newspapers in general. Here are few teasers:

Some days being a news photographer is like being in a dream. One memorable shift, I photographed a cop killing in Grand Prairie, then Chuck Berry and Elizabeth Taylor at the Meyerson, and finally a botched burglary where a pathetic robber was trapped in a chimney trying to enter a house. One morning I was climbing a West Texas mountain with paraplegics in wheelchairs, that night I was photographing prostitutes in Juarez. If you love life and its wonderful tapestry, this job’s for you.”

Photographers are much like drummers in a rock band. Somewhat crazy and unpredictable, a little Keith Moon is in every one of them. In the 70′s, for those who remember, it might have been something in the fixer or ferrocyanide. Personalities, twisted humor and camaraderie always abound in photo. And the old farts there stay a bit young at heart.

I showed up one morning for work and was promptly handed an amateurish camera and told to get some gym clothes and go workout with Jane Fonda. What, excuse me? The class was private, the press was barred, and I was posing as an excited fan snapping a shot after the workout. I have to admit – the picture was exclusive, great idea.

So, thanks for the laughs, Randy, and welcome to the freelance club. Here’s hoping you end up in Philly some day, so I can buy you a beer.