My story is about a woman named Grace, she was my grandmother, someone you would have absolutely loved (I promise, everyone did), and the person who sparked my love of photography. In a time when it wasn’t as easy for a woman to contribute outside of her home, she (as a single mother of 6) started her own business as a professional wedding photographer and ran it for almost 40 years. She was passionate about what she did and genuinely loved each person she photographed. She was completely delighted in who they were and being able to capture their unique personalities. The people she worked with knew it too. When you were with her, you knew she wanted to be with you. She was just that kind of person. She ignited my love of photography by allowing me to carry bags and set lights when I was younger, eventually graduating me to learn to use her medium format Hasselblad camera (for the non-photographers this is the camera of ALL cameras). I was obsessed and began working with film and spent every moment I could with a camera in hand.

I would joke with her that other people’s grandmothers’ knit, baked pies, and spent time at home, but not her! She knew where all the best roadside stands were to buy the best pies. We would talk almost every day but before the days of cell phones, it wasn’t uncommon to get the answering machine because she was out, busy with her photography, or even after she retired with her volunteer work.