Plains, GA, 1076

It was so long ago I’m having trouble remembering details, like trying to remember specifics from a dream that become more elusive the harder you try.

I was working as the staff photographer at a small daily newspaper outside of Atlanta, and my photographer friend Michael was freelancing in the area, often stringing for Time magazine. Our recent Governor was ramping up a campaign for U. S. President, and Michael suggested we go down to Plains for a day or so to see what was going on. We drove down, told someone we were press, and, BOOM!, we were on the media bus. No ID, no credentials even asked for. Welcome aboard.

It was a whirlwind tour, from peanut fields to Capricorn Records. In looking over the photos I had mostly forgotten about, I am struck most by the complete access to the candidate, not just getting on the bus so easily, but the way crowds clustered around him, no rope lines, no phalanx of security guards. I know it was a different time, when bullet-proof glass was not de rigueur on every speaking platform, but even then, I think some of it was the man, who, in all my photos, seems to be having fun.

RIP Mr. President.