My life, as far back as I can remember, has been deeply influenced by the world of photography and education.

Born in Bloomington, Indiana, both of my parents were teachers.  Mom taught elementary; dad, high school English.  Later, dad worked as a Photojournalist, in Pubic Relations, combined with his active Army Reserve duty during the Korean War and later Pentagon assignments.

In 1957, my family moved to Oneonta, New York, in the Catskill Mountains, about 60 miles southwest of Albany. Dad handled Public Relations for the State University of New York at Oneonta.  I spent many days and nights helping him in the University darkroom.  He often took me to the local daily newspaper, The Oneonta Daily Star, where he wrote some of his stories.  I was allowed to roam around, very carefully, watching the noisy linotype machines spit out hot lead type that would be the printed stories and ads in the morning edition.

In March 1968, as a 21 year-old Air Force sergeant, I arrived at Bien Hoa Air Base, 20 km north of Saigon.  For the next 12 months I was assigned to a Forward Air Control team directing air strikes north of Saigon and in the west coast of the Mekong Delta.  I always lived on a US Army base camp or in a Vietnamese village.  

Raised around photography, I carried a small half-frame 35 mm rangefinder.  As usual, I photographed the events taking place, not realizing the nearly 400 slides would be the genesis of a life-long project on the Emotional Effects of War.

After my military service, from 1970 to 1979, and as a result of my experiences in Viet Nam, my life was something like an “angry fog.”  My identity was in turmoil. In 1977 I received my bachelors degree to teach secondary science.  It was a natural fit to continue my interest in photography.

Starting in 1971, I have been sharing my photography of war and conflict with students and educators in the U. S., Viet Nam, South Korea, and Australia. Since the early 1980s, I have photographed veteran parades and memorials in those four countries. The result has been a life-long effort (perhaps obsessive) to understand the Emotional Effects of the American War in Viet Nam that  my generation and others experienced.

In 1999, as a substitute teacher for social studies at the United National International School in Ha Noi, Viet Nam, I became the first and only American war veteran to teach international secondary students about the American War in Viet Nam, in Viet Nam.

Since the US invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, the high rate of suicide in the ranks of American soldiers, Military Sexual Trauma (MST), and “PTSD,” caused me to embed as a freelance photographer with US soldiers in Baghdad, Iraq (November-December 2008), and northeast Afghanistan (December 2009-January 2010).  Similar to my experience in Viet Nam, I photographed operations, the war machinery, downtime, and the local culture. 

Until recently, all my documentary photography has been with 35 mm film.  By 2008, changes in computer technology and travel conditions caused me to use a digital camera in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Ironically, some photo CDs are almost impossible to read due to outdated software or disintegrating materials; my 10-50 year-old slides and negatives are still in excellent condition.

Due to the dry environment, I keep all my photographs, memorabilia, and ephemera in Denver.  From 2005 to 2011, I was honored to observe and learn about fine art photography as a volunteer at  the Camera Obscura Gallery. Owned by the late Hal D. Gould, Master Photographer, Camera Obscura Gallery was perhaps the oldest fine art photography gallery in the United States until it closed in April 2011.  Like my late father, Hal was World War II veteran of the Philippine Invasion, September 1944.  So was my dad, although dad wouldn’t talk about his time in the South Pacific.  Hal would, and we had many interesting talks.

Hal and the gallery were national treasures, and I learned a great deal by watching, reading, listening, and asking questions of Hal, and Assistant Director, Loretta Young-Gautier.   Over the years they gave a tremendous amount of inspiration and support to many photographers.

As a result of my relationship with Camera Obscura Gallery, during the summers of 2008 and 2009, I was able to move from the constant theme of war in my personal life.  West of Denver, at tree line (11,500’ elev.) on the flank of Mt. Evans (14,205’ elev.), I photographed the Rocky Mountain Bristlecone Pine (Pinus aristata).  This was in recognition of the 200th birthday of Dr. George Engelmann, who identified these and many other trees and plants in Colorado and North America. 

Dr. Engelmann and I are not related, still, I wanted to create something unique to honor Dr. Engelmann’s work.  Hal gave me inspiration to photograph the Rocky Mountain Bristlecone pine.   The result: ten Fine Art black and white photographs printed in a Limited Edition of 25 are for sale and may be seen on my Fine Art Photos page.

Your presence is encouraging, and my goal remains simple: help people understand aspects of a denied war and the trauma that has affected so many here in America, and throughout the world.  I hope my documentary images might trigger your visual intellect and emotions to better understand the Emotional Effects of War on Soldiers, our families, and nation.  Perhaps my fine art photographs will bring a continued sense of joy and amazing wonder about the world in which we live, in spite of the oil leaks and religious conflicts.

Thank you for your interest.

NOTE:  My web site is a work in progress.  As I attempt to make something simple for you to navigate and still offer information through photographs and other resources, I would appreciate any constructive feedback.  Since my skills are that of a rank beginner, I appreciate any suggestions for improvement. 

TE