“Opportunity knocking usually sounds like hard work, so most people don’t answer the door.”
— I heard it from friend and mentor Jim Chionsini as one of his “Old Italian Sayings.” He likely borrowed it, but he was, among other things, a master at repackaging good advice.
An imaginary light from above formed a halo around the camera in the display case. I was in Howard Petty’s Camera Shop in downtown Mount Pleasant. Many years ago.
It was a Holy Grail moment in my collegekid eyes. I never saw a used camera with its nicks and bumps. I saw only a Minolta SR-7 35 mm singlelens ref lex camera at that moment. A real camera. As opposed to my mother’s borrowed Kodak Brownie I was using when I first felt the magic of photography.
I thought about my first real camera last week while reading about 2023’s generation of high school graduates. I’m sure many clearly envision what they want to do in life. And some will complete that journey with success.
Others may be more like me the night I walked the Mount Pleasant High School stage.
During those dark ages, graduating seniors wrapped up the school year with an obligatory counseling session with Mrs. Sanders, the sweetest and most caring teacher ever to walk the halls of MPHS. I don’t remember whether she actually taught classes or was a fulltime counselor. But I remember that she was always smiling, and conversations with her could make the worst day better.
“So, what are your plans after graduation, Leon,” Mrs. Sanders asked. With a smile, of course.
“I’ve enjoyed Mr. Murray’s mechanical drawing classes. I think I want to be an architect,” I told her.
“Excellent choice,” she replied. “Where do you plan on going to college?”
“I think I’m going to Kilgore Junior College for two years; then a four-year university after that.”
“Good decision. I’m sure you will do well,” Mrs. Sanders said with a pat on my hand.
High school counseling 50-plus years ago was a little more informal than it is today.
Real-world reality ruled out portions of the plan I shared with Mrs. Sanders. Minor mishaps like a couple of failed math classes. No one told me math was not my strong suit. Or that my brain may have been better wired for creative thinking, right brain stuff. I’m not sure if left brain and right brain was even a thing then. I wasn’t sure I had a brain at that point in life.
G I left Kilgore after a year; knowing things like psychology, writing, music and art felt good as opposed to anything involving calculating numbers.
Five years to get a four-year degree in psychology and art at East Texas State University, a few jobs failing to hold my interest and a year of laboring to figure out where I belonged followed.
Enter a long-time friend who would become a mentor for my future, Morris Craig, who offered me a job. “While you’re deciding what you want to do, come work for me,” Craig said. “I know you’re a photographer.
I can use you at
The Monitor.”
Thus began the path that has provided great gratification, a prosperous livelihood, and unforgettable memories for 50-plus years. All because I asked, “How much for that one, Mr. Petty,” pointing to the used camera at which I had been gazing.
“That’s a good camera,” he said. “I’ll let you have it for $50.”
I stared a moment longer. Where would I ever find $50? Working every hour possible between classes to pay for school? Before I could respond, he added, “And you can pay it out for $10 a week, if that helps.”
After another short silence, I looked up and said, “I’ll take it. If you will teach me how to use it.”
“Deal,” he smiled and placed the camera in my hands.
I can’t tell you who spoke at my high school graduation. Or my college graduations. Maybe a school official or a former graduate. Maybe someone well-known or super successful in life.
No one has ever asked me to speak at a commencement. A record I’m confident will remain unbroken.
But if anyone ever did, it might go something like this.
Always have a dream. A vision. An idea of what you want to do and how you want to do it. Make it your own. Do all you can do to achieve it.
But don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t work out immediately. Don’t give up. No one is limited to just one dream. Or just one chance in life.
What may become the future is not love at first sight for everyone. But you are not just everyone; you are you. So be the best you that you can be.
And when doors open for you in life, always remember those who oiled the hinges for you along the way.
Someone who sells you your first camera on a payment plan. Someone who offers you a job at a newspaper at a time when you have no idea what you want to do.
And be mindful when imaginary lights from above form halos around signs right under your nose.
