For Russ

There's a radio show called Echoes hosted by John Diliberto. It's my favorite two hours of radio every day; I strongly recommend listening. If you're in my area it's 91.7 fm at 8-10pm every weekday. But it's more than just a good radio show with relaxing music, an unobnoxious host, and refreshingly few interruptions. For me, at least.

Echoes transports me back to my second semester of college... to my Wednesday night darkroom 101 classes, specifically. They were taught by a man named Russ Hepworth and though Russ may never know it, he was the best teacher I have ever had. Russ had the gift of not only being an amazing photographer but he was always able to make you look at your mistakes in a different light and turn them into happy accidents or to push yourself as an artist and therefore as a person. Anyone reading this who's ever spent more than 5 minutes with him will know exactly what I'm talking about. Words will never be able to express the gratitude I have for him. Upon learning of his retirement a year and a half after that, I was devastated that I always took him for granted. The very last time I saw him all I could do was shake his hand. I had had weeks and weeks worth of words to tell him about how much I appreciated him but all I could say was "Thank you". And I barely got that out.

While driving home tonight Echoes came on the radio. There's an uncanny resemblance between John Diliberto's voice and Russ's... so much so that the first time I heard Echoes after meeting Russ I looked up a picture of John. I still think of the connection every time John's voice is just right and I imagine Russ giving me a new awesome way to look at some aspect of life. But tonight the memories came back stronger than usual. I remembered being in the large light-safe darkroom at CSI and the smells of all the chemicals while watching my images appear on the silver-laced paper. I could remember the excitement and peace I felt in all those classes with Russ; like I was exactly where I was meant to be - in the perfect creative environment. During that first semester of Wednesday night classes I would listen to Echoes on the drive home, usually while the nighttime spring rain would fall softly on my windshield and distort all the city lights into something a little more magical. Those were the moments I had to myself. For myself. Of myself. And I am eternally grateful for all of it.