In the early seventies I decided to become a photographer. The school I wanted to attend was very expensive so I looked for legal ways to make a lot of money in a short period of time. My sister's boyfriend invited me to leave Los Angeles and come to the mountains and work in the woods. One season turned into four years of setting chokers, bumping knots and skinning cat.
On my last day working in the woods, my rigging crew and I shared beers and farewells at the local bar. Jack Hannah, our siderod, said, “You moved here from the city and became the best choker setter I’ve ever worked with. When you’re done with photography school, I hope you don’t forget us dirty old loggers.”
Ten years later at the height of the Pacific Northwest battle between the logging industry and the environmental movement, I worked with the Mendocino County Museum to create a portrait exhibit of loggers. Along with the portraits were excerpts from the oral histories I recorded. The exhibit traveled to four museums. The last was the World Forestry Center in Portland, Oregon.