Back in 1982 I was interning as a photographer at the Dallas Times Herald, many would consider one of the best newspapers ever published. It was DTH photographer, Bob Jackson who captured the famous photo of Lee Harvey Oswald being shot by Jack Ruby. Jackson won the Heralds first of many Pulitzer Prizes. Both photographers Skeeter Hagler and Jay Dickman won their Pulitzers as DTH shooters. In fact all the photographers on staff were major award winning photographers. This was a great place for me to learn. The pressure was high to deliver great photos and in some ways, my best work came from those days.
Being the intern I was always given the “lame” assignments to shoot, being told “lets see what you can do with this.” This assignment was to get photos of the last day of school. However, this elementary was being closed for good and the students would be separated, being sent to two different schools. As I walked around and shot all the usual teacher student hugs and stuff I noticed these two girls off alone on a set of stairs at the side of the school. I could tell they were upset, so I switched to my camera with a telephoto, backed out to the sidewalk and walked around to get in front of them. This is what I captured, two young girls who thought they would never see each other again. I’m sure just about every woman on earth can relate.
The photo won several awards and my boss must have gotten some kind of praise from his boss…which is very very very rare in the newspaper biz. The photo ran on the front page and my boss held it up to me with a dead pan look on his face and said “not bad” and then handed me an assignment that made everyone one on staff mad at me and would prove to be one of the best assignments of my career…I was to go and spend a couple of weeks on an aircraft carrier shooting a story on the training of fighter pilots…WOW!
photo by Dorothea Lange
Florence Owens Thompson (September 1, 1903 – September 16, 1983), born Florence Leona Christie, was the subject of Dorothea Lange's photo Migrant Mother (1936), an iconic image of the Great Depression. The Library of Congress entitled the Migrant Mother image, Destitute pea pickers in California. Mother of seven children. Age thirty-two. Nipomo, California.
In March 1936, after picking beets in the Imperial Valley, Thompson and her family were traveling on US Highway 101 towards Watsonville in hopes of finding more work. On the road, the car timing chain snapped and they coasted to a stop just inside a pea-picker's camp on Nipomo Mesa. While Jim Hill and two of Thompson's sons took the radiator, which had also been damaged, to town for repair, Thompson and some of the children set up a temporary camp. As Thompson waited, Dorothea Lange, working for the Resettlement Administration, drove up and started taking photos of Florence and her family. Over 10 minutes she took 6 images.
While Thompson's identity was not known for over forty years after the photos were taken, the images became famous. The sixth image especially, which later became known as Migrant Mother, "has achieved near mythical status, symbolizing, if not defining, an entire era in [United States] history." In 1998, the retouched photo of Migrant Mother became a 32-cent U.S. Postal Service stamp in the 1930s Celebrate the Century series. The stamp printing was unusual since daughters Katherine McIntosh (on the left in the stamp) and Norma Rydlewski (in Thompson's arms in the stamp) were alive at the time of the printing and "It is very uncommon for the Postal Service to print stamps of individuals who have not been dead for at least 10 years.”
In the same month the U.S. stamp was issued, a print of the photograph with Lange's handwritten notes and signature sold in 1998 for $244,500 at Sotheby's New York. In November 2002, Dorothea Lange's personal print of Migrant Mother sold at Christie's New York for $141,500. In October 2005, an anonymous buyer paid $296,000 at Sotheby's New York for the rediscovered 32 vintage, untouched Lange photos—nearly six times the pre-bid estimate.
Thompson was hospitalized and her family appealed for financial help in late August 1983. By September, the family had collected $25,000 in donations to pay for her medical care. Florence died of "cancer and heart problems" at Scotts Valley, California on September 16, 1983. She was buried next to her husband George, in Lakewood Memorial Park, in Hughson, California, and her gravestone reads: "FLORENCE LEONA THOMPSON Migrant Mother – A Legend of the Strength of American Motherhood."
© Kevin Vandivier
Romanian Street Girl
This one photo helped to save the lives of many young girls! Years ago I traveled to Romania to shoot a story on homeless children and work with a missions group as they served in Romania. This was after Ceausescu’s fall from power. He had wanted to build a big army, so he forced every woman to have ten children of which the government subsidized. Once Ceausescu fell, that government help stopped and millions of children were given up to the orphanages. Kids found life much better in the streets, so many of them just left to make a go of it in the streets of Romania.
While I was in a small village outside Constanta I came across a little girl with torn and dirty clothes looking for food. After giving her what food I had on me I shot this portrait of her. I saw her again a couple of more times while I was there.
After returning to Constanta I met Daniel Mercado from Nebraska. He had been in country doing all he could to help the thousands of street children in Constanta, Romania. I spent the rest of my trip following and shooting photos of Daniels work with the kids there. Every morning he would open up his ministry for the kids to come in, get a bath, food, new clothes, education and worship. Come sundown, he would have to send the kids back out into the streets to fend for themselves. Each night this tore Dan’s heart out. Because he was not part of some huge mega church or mega missions agency, he did what he could with what he could raise from small independent churches in the U.S. and Europe. His desire was to first build a home for girls in the countryside. The girls living in the street in Romania had it the worst. Once they matured, it was not long before they would be raped to death.
Once I returned to the U.S., I printed up a show and began traveling it to different wealthy churches in Texas hoping I would sell enough prints to help Dan build his girls home. I never sold one print. About a year later Dan and I were talking on the phone and I sheepishly let him know my attempt to help him had failed. I had not told him what I was doing so, upon hearing about the shows Dan told me that explained all the finances that had come in through Texas. Though I had not sold a single print, Christians responded to the call for support and gave enough to help Dan move forward with hi girls home in the country. The photo above was the lead photo for the show and the one people responded the most to.
©2010 Kevin Vandivier
Many have heard me preach a sermon I like to preach about walking as an Ambassador of Christ for real. I firmly believe our careers are simply vehicles The Holy Spirit uses to move us into places and in front of people we would normally never go or meet for His purposes. He gives us the choice to take part in His mission or stick to ours. This photo comes from such a moment.
A few years ago I joined some brothers in Christ on a journey to Turkey. Our plan was simply to prayer walk different parts of the country, including many sections of Istanbul. One day as I was prayer walking a remote neighborhood in Istanbul I cam upon a section of wall about five stories high and I’m guessing 50 feet wide. It was part of the wall built by Crusaders centuries before. My interpreter/bodyguard and I climbed the stairs up the wall to get some photos and pray over this area.
We came across several teens about 16/17 drinking beer and shooting a slingshot at birds landing on the building next to the wall. They were actually being paid to keep the birds off the building so those eating at the restaurant below would not have organic cream sauce added to their meals from above.
I spent some time shooting photos of these teens, including the one above. After awhile I felt I had what I needed and wanted to find a quiet place to pray for Istanbul. The young man in the photo noticed my cap and took a liking to it. It had a fisherman on it. So, I gave him my hat, not knowing what would later become clear to me.
I want to mention that the day before I had meet an elderly missionary who had been in Turkey his whole career and had never seen a Muslim come to Christ. In fact it is very rare and a revival in Turkey is when more than two or three come to Christ in the whole year.
Ok so after giving the hat to this young man he asked what we were doing there. I told him I was in Turkey praying the people to meet Jesus Christ. His eyes lit up and he asked if I was a real Christian. At this point I’m starting to get uncomfortable since we were told not to talk about Jesus at all and to only pray. We would be thrown into prison if caught and eventually thrown out of the country. I looked at my interpreter and asked what he thought about this situation. He got up, looked around for other people near by other than this mans friends and came back saying it was ok to talk freely. This young man was truly interested and asked many questions about salvation and atonement, something Muslims do not have. After about two hours of answering his questions I finally asked him if he would like to become a follower of Jesus Christ. He sat for about 3 or four minutes conflicted and deep in thought. We just sat quietly and waited. I stood to stretch my legs and I guess he thought I was standing to leave. He turned to me quickly and said yes, I want to follow Jesus. My interpreter had not yet translated, but I could tell by his eyes what had just happened. So there on top of this wall built by Crusaders centuries before I led this young Turk through the sinners prayer to receive Christ. My interpreter arranged a secret meeting with him later to bring him to their underground church. I then asked the others if they would like to follow Jesus and they all about fell backwards saying No, No, No. My new brother then asked me if he was still a Muslim. I simply told him “I’m not a Muslim”. He understood what I was implying and understood. I should have known The Holy Spirit was up to something when He had me give my cap with a fisherman on it to this young man.
Yes, later I was royally chewed out for sharing Christ since we were told not to. Since then, I have never been invited to join those brothers on another mission trip. Regardless, I know what I did was right and orchestrated by the Holy Spirit.
BORN ADDICTION
PHOTO BY KEVIN VANDIVIER
A few years ago I was given an assignment from USA Today to shoot a story on Babies born addicted to crack cocaine. One of the subjects I shot for the story lived in San Antonio, Texas. As I pulled into the neighborhood to shoot the story I felt the need to pray for my own protection. Not a great place for a lone white guy to be hanging out. I also prayed for Gods visual direction and asked for a divine appointment if possible. I really see myself as an agent/ambassador of the Lord and my career in photography is simply the vehicle God uses to move me where he needs me and opens the doors as needed. The result has been a career which has taken me before kings of nations, the poorest in the world and everyone in between.
When I pulled up to the house there were four police cars parked in the yard, on the curb, etc. I remember wondering why it is police rarely park their cars normally like the rest of us... even when we are in a hurry as well. LOL
Well I grabbed my gear and headed in. At the same time the police were heading out while giving me a weird look. One finally asked why I was here, so I told them. One jokingly told me I had found the jack pot. Sure enough, I walked inside to a house full of kids ranging from about 10 years of age downward of multiple mixed ethnicities. My subject escorted me back to her room and explained her brother in law had come home while his wife was doing her business with a client in their bed. The sad part was he was mad about her doing this at home and not at a motel. He got out of control mad and that's why the police were there. She ran when they showed up.
I took out my camera and began to shoot photos. Soon I knew what God was calling me to do. After capturing this image, I put my camera down and pulled out the bible I always carry with me in my camera bag. She was convinced she was going to Hell and that Jesus would not save her. After a couple of hours and many bible verses I was able to convince otherwise.
She asked I speak with he brother in law about this as well. I agreed and we walked down the hall to his closed bedroom door and entered. He was sound asleep with a bong and a gun next to his bed. She shook him until he woke up. He fixed his angry eyes on me while she told him I wanted to pray with him. He in a very angry tone told me "I don't need your f****** prayers." Immediately God gave me a word for him. I knew it was God and so I had no fear to speak to him what God said... "You are the priest of this home and it is through you all this sin has entered your home. If you will repent, I will save you and your whole family from this sin." To my surprise, he rolled out of bed to his knees and began to weep like a little baby and pleaded with me to pray for him.
Long story short... I took them all to a local church I knew was having a special service that night called Eagles Nest. The sermon was on the sins of the flesh, drug use and prostitution. After the service I introduced them to the pastor. He split them up for prayer. After about an hour the woman gave her life to Jesus and the Man recommitted his life to Jesus. Yes recommitted! He and his wife were once in charge if a children's ministry at a Baptist Church in New Mexico. He was also one of the elders. When they moved to San Antonio, they never found a church they liked and instead fell in with the wrong crowd. Little by little the compromised until they became addicted to crack cocaine and his wife had to prostitute her body to pay for the addiction. Now they are free in Christ and I continue to serve Christ as he calls.
