My camera is gone, but the memory lingers

by Calvin Walker, guest editorial……

February 2010 I traveled to Mexico to deliver my daughter and two grandchildren to their home in Acapulco.

In route we were held up by a gang of four angry gun toting desperadoes, who escaped with all but the clothes we wore.

The day before the holdup I had pulled off the highway to photograph a chapel that stood in stark beauty amongst the desolate Sonora Desert. As I photographed the chapel a young man began washing my truck window and held out his hand for money. Instead, I pointed at my camera and pointed at him. He nodded in consent. I photographed him and turned my camera to show him the picture.

Forgetting his payment, he excitedly called his family and friends to come and see his picture. Within seconds people of various ages began gathering around me wanting to see his photograph.

I then pointed at my camera and pointed at them, they all eagerly nodded yes. I joyfully began photographing several of the people.

After a little time passed one man spoke loudly to the group. He pointed to me, to my camera, and then to a man standing in deep shadows under a tree and said “El Diablo,” followed by a laugh.

I nodded my head yes, and begin walking towards El Diablo, closely followed by the group. Within 20 feet of El Diablo I stopped, pointed to my camera, and pointed at him.

He stood looking at me and I questioned my decision. El Diablo then gave the slightest of nods. I motioned for him to come out of the shadows. He stoically walked forward into sunlight where I began photographing him.

The small crowd remained quiet. I turned the camera to show El Diablo his photograph. He looked for what seemed like minuets before the slightest grin appeared in the corners of his mouth.

I stepped back and held up my finger to ask for one more. El Diablo consented with a small nod. His eyes shone alive set inside a leather face. The sunlight coming through his wavy, shoulder length, gray streaked black hair made a halo glow about his head. He stood straight and true.

To prompt a grin I use my finger to push the corners of my mouth up. Before my eyes a genuine smile evolves exposing the most beautiful toothy grin. His eyes shone with rare happiness. I snapped the picture and heard a small gasp from one of the onlookers.

I instantly realized that I had an award winning photograph of a poor man in his true existence granting me rare acquiescence.

The group of a dozen or more people continued sharing our newfound connection as I walked to my truck. I felt like a family member about to depart on a grand tour of other majestic places and people.

This was all brought about by my Nikon camera.

After losing everything in the holdup, I found that what I missed the most was my needed prescriptions, my glasses, and my Nikon D300. Without my glasses I felt the world out of focus and estranged from it. Without my camera as a tool to  break down barriers how was I to experience and share the art and beauty of life and the world surrounding me?

When I pointed at the camera and pointed at them I realized that language was not necessary, that pictures truly are worth a thousand words. The sharing created instant friendships with some who before acted as though I were an enemy.

I realize now, that my family and friends also find joy and connectivity in the same manner.