Random Thoughts
An Anniversary: Happy April Fool's Day
April/01/2008
Good
Morning!
A year ago today I made a commitment to start a blog as a means of communicating more efficiently with photographers who are interested in marketing and management issues. I was a bit apprehensive about this commitment of time, but I thought I'd give it a try, and I'm so glad I did. I've made a lot of new friends through this medium, and I truly enjoy the process.
In the coming weeks I'll have some interesting features to post, so I hope you'll continue to take a look.
In the meantime, I'm about to embark on an exciting adventure: I'm in Chicago today where I will meet up with six Irish photographers who have traveled here to visit some American studios and to learn more about marketing and management. In a few hours, we'll set off in a rented van, with me driving, to visit with Sarah Petty in Springfield, IL. What a treat!
I visited the studios of two of the photographers, Suzanne Toal and Maria Dunphy, when I conducted a seminar last fall for the Irish PPA in Athlone. I wrote about them in the Ireland Journal section of my blog. I'm so excited to see these great ladies again and really eager to meet the other four members of "The Irish Six." I'll introduce them when I have a chance to write again.
So it looks like April Fool's Day is becoming an important day in my life. Hope you have a good one!
Ann
A year ago today I made a commitment to start a blog as a means of communicating more efficiently with photographers who are interested in marketing and management issues. I was a bit apprehensive about this commitment of time, but I thought I'd give it a try, and I'm so glad I did. I've made a lot of new friends through this medium, and I truly enjoy the process.
In the coming weeks I'll have some interesting features to post, so I hope you'll continue to take a look.
In the meantime, I'm about to embark on an exciting adventure: I'm in Chicago today where I will meet up with six Irish photographers who have traveled here to visit some American studios and to learn more about marketing and management. In a few hours, we'll set off in a rented van, with me driving, to visit with Sarah Petty in Springfield, IL. What a treat!
I visited the studios of two of the photographers, Suzanne Toal and Maria Dunphy, when I conducted a seminar last fall for the Irish PPA in Athlone. I wrote about them in the Ireland Journal section of my blog. I'm so excited to see these great ladies again and really eager to meet the other four members of "The Irish Six." I'll introduce them when I have a chance to write again.
So it looks like April Fool's Day is becoming an important day in my life. Hope you have a good one!
Ann
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A Very Happy Ending
November/18/2007
In a
media-driven culture that is seemingly obsessed with
beautiful, self-absorbed people, it's good for the
heart to know that small miracles really do happen
because of the selflessness of people who show up
when they are needed. Such was the case when Jacob
Allen, a physically fit 18-year-old who is severely
autistic, managed to outdistance his parents on a
hike in the rugged Dolly Sods Wildness Area of the
Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia. In a
matter of minutes, Jacob, who loves the outdoors, but
is non-verbal, seemingly disappeared off the face of
the earth.
Jacob's father is a staff member at Garrett College, which is located a few miles from my house at Deep Creek Lake, MD. The Allen family lives in Morgantown, WV, about 40 minutes from Deep Creek. Morgantown also is the home of my daughter Julie, son-in-law Chris Frum, and grandson Lusas. Julie and Chris are West Virginia University grads, and Chris works at the University in Morgantown. As soon as the word got out, volunteers from WVU, Garrett College, churches, and other groups converged on the wilderness area to look for Jacob under the guidance of first responders and professional rescue organizations. Chris, who has extensive wilderness training and experience, served as a team leader on day 3 of the search. Miraculously, Jacob was found by just such a team on day 4, only hours before the a driving rainstorm snapped the spell of unseasonably warm weather that had kept hopes alive that Jacob could survive the elements if help came in time.
According to Chris, so many qualified people came out to help -- not to mention folks who just wanted to do anything -- that the organizers had to make up tasks to keep them busy. Many, he said, took time away from their hourly jobs, so they lost a day's pay for every day they spent searching for Jacob. Though he was armed with a hand-held GPS, Chris said that the terrain was so rugged he was very concerned that one of his 15-member team could get lost in an instant, so the team relied on shout-outs to stay together. It took nearly a day to cover terrain that was roughly the size of a football field. The fact that a watchful rescue-team member finally spotted Jacob, as he slept beneath the canopy of rhododendron, was almost a miracle in itself.
The story of the Allen family's plight and Jacob's rescue made national news for nearly a week. But what happened at Dolly Sods continues to touch those who participated directly in the rescue operation as well as those who held the family and the searchers in their hearts and prayers throughout the ordeal. A website that commemorates the search can be found at www.operationjacob.com. If you're having a bad day, just visit the site and click on the slide show, as what unfolds will surely lift your spirits. It's hard to top the sight of Jacob and his rescuers emerging from that endless wilderness.
Chris, Julie and Lucas came to visit in Deep Creek the day after Jacob was found. I took this picture of them over the weekend. It now has special meaning because it will forever remind me a beautiful, unseasonable October when good people came together and became part of something much larger than themselves.
Jacob's father is a staff member at Garrett College, which is located a few miles from my house at Deep Creek Lake, MD. The Allen family lives in Morgantown, WV, about 40 minutes from Deep Creek. Morgantown also is the home of my daughter Julie, son-in-law Chris Frum, and grandson Lusas. Julie and Chris are West Virginia University grads, and Chris works at the University in Morgantown. As soon as the word got out, volunteers from WVU, Garrett College, churches, and other groups converged on the wilderness area to look for Jacob under the guidance of first responders and professional rescue organizations. Chris, who has extensive wilderness training and experience, served as a team leader on day 3 of the search. Miraculously, Jacob was found by just such a team on day 4, only hours before the a driving rainstorm snapped the spell of unseasonably warm weather that had kept hopes alive that Jacob could survive the elements if help came in time.
According to Chris, so many qualified people came out to help -- not to mention folks who just wanted to do anything -- that the organizers had to make up tasks to keep them busy. Many, he said, took time away from their hourly jobs, so they lost a day's pay for every day they spent searching for Jacob. Though he was armed with a hand-held GPS, Chris said that the terrain was so rugged he was very concerned that one of his 15-member team could get lost in an instant, so the team relied on shout-outs to stay together. It took nearly a day to cover terrain that was roughly the size of a football field. The fact that a watchful rescue-team member finally spotted Jacob, as he slept beneath the canopy of rhododendron, was almost a miracle in itself.
The story of the Allen family's plight and Jacob's rescue made national news for nearly a week. But what happened at Dolly Sods continues to touch those who participated directly in the rescue operation as well as those who held the family and the searchers in their hearts and prayers throughout the ordeal. A website that commemorates the search can be found at www.operationjacob.com. If you're having a bad day, just visit the site and click on the slide show, as what unfolds will surely lift your spirits. It's hard to top the sight of Jacob and his rescuers emerging from that endless wilderness.
Chris, Julie and Lucas came to visit in Deep Creek the day after Jacob was found. I took this picture of them over the weekend. It now has special meaning because it will forever remind me a beautiful, unseasonable October when good people came together and became part of something much larger than themselves.
The Power of the Internet . . . and the Good People Who Use It
September/25/2007
I thrive on
stress . . . except for technology stress. For almost
a week now I've been dealing with technology upgrades
that, thank heavens, are almost finished. I've been
complaining about the ensuing chaos to anyone who
would listen. This morning I received a kind and
supporting email from my dear friend
Helen Yancy who posed this
rhetorical question: "What was life like before
computers?" I can't remember, but I know I got
more sleep back then.
A few minutes ago another dear friend, Steve Troup, president of my lab, Buckeye Color Lab in North Canton, Ohio, sent me a link to a great story that has at least partially adjusted my attitude about the worth of advanced technology . . . in this case the Internet, which has given me such fits during the last week. If you've had bad technology days, then I think you'll enjoy reading this short article. Perhaps it will improve your day in the same way it did mine.
Thanks Steve!
A few minutes ago another dear friend, Steve Troup, president of my lab, Buckeye Color Lab in North Canton, Ohio, sent me a link to a great story that has at least partially adjusted my attitude about the worth of advanced technology . . . in this case the Internet, which has given me such fits during the last week. If you've had bad technology days, then I think you'll enjoy reading this short article. Perhaps it will improve your day in the same way it did mine.
Thanks Steve!
On An Ordinary Tuesday - 9/11/01
September/11/2007
I'm so glad
it rained today.
Six years ago I was about to leave my house to run some errands . . . a doctor's appointment and preparations for an upcoming Guerrilla Management Workshop at my lake house in Deep Creek Lake, Maryland. I was on my way out the door when the phone rang: It was my fellow instructor, Judy Grann, who said, "Are you watching TV . . . something's happened in New York."
I clicked on the TV just in time to see a plane smash into the second tower. I was horrified, but I was late for my appointment, so I jumped in the card and turned on the radio. By the time I arrived at the doctor's office, the Pentagon had been hit. People in this tiny mountain community were visibly shaken, as they thought the fall of the Berlin Wall had finally removed the specter of an attack on Washington. Because I didn't grow up in Deep Creek, I had never given a second thought to the fact the this peaceful region lies within the fall-out zone of a nuclear attack on Washington, D.C. I was pretty calm. After all, I had grown up in a military family and participated in countless evacuation drills when we lived abroad. I knew that bad things could happen, but you just kept moving.
I was fine, that is, until I heard that a plane had flown into the ground in Shanksville, PA, just 60 miles from Deep Creek. At that moment I was seized by a panic to get back to the house and reach my husband and kids on the phone. In the back of my mind, I thought "they" were coming for ALL of us. The next few days were a blur . . . making sure my grown kids knew what to do if the attacks kept coming . . . trying to decide what to do about the upcoming class when planes weren't flying . . . watching TV coverage non-stop . . . hearing the awful news that the pilot of American Airlines flight #77, which hit Pentagon, was the older brother of one of our clients.
Somehow, six stalwart photographers who were within a reasonable driving distance of Deep Creek, made it to the Workshop. Judy and I were grateful for their perseverance, as the class helped to restore a bit of normalcy, although it was hard for all of us to concentrate, when you really wanted to turn on the news. It was as if seeing the towers fall down again and again would lead us to understand what had happened on that incredibly beautiful blue-sky Tuesday.
For the past two weeks, the weather — from New York to Deep Creek — has made the news: Everyone marveled that not a drop of rain fell on the U.S. Open in Flushing Meadows. The lake has never been more beautiful. Driving back to PA from our Deep Creek holiday, I couldn't help but be reminded of the kind of day it was on 9-11-01, and I started to feel the same unease that I have felt on beautiful September days ever since.
The streak of lovely weather ended today, and I was so glad to see the rain. The unease was still there, so I started visiting 9-11 memorial websites, where I learned they are still trying to raise money for a memorial to the souls who were lost in Shanksville. I stopped surfing after I came across a memorial site that I had visited before: http://www.voicesofsept11.org, on the 911 Reflections/songs & poems page. There, I landed on a series of songs written in memory of the day. One of them—On An Ordinary Tuesday—seemed to sum up my thoughts today. It was written by Sharon, Arthur, Margie, Alton Corey & Jeff Hodge and performed by Buddy Jewell, Copyright 2002 Sharomar Music. Here's a link if you'd like to listen.
The song was soothing today. So was the rain.
Temporary memorial to United Flight 97 in Shanksville, PA
Six years ago I was about to leave my house to run some errands . . . a doctor's appointment and preparations for an upcoming Guerrilla Management Workshop at my lake house in Deep Creek Lake, Maryland. I was on my way out the door when the phone rang: It was my fellow instructor, Judy Grann, who said, "Are you watching TV . . . something's happened in New York."
I clicked on the TV just in time to see a plane smash into the second tower. I was horrified, but I was late for my appointment, so I jumped in the card and turned on the radio. By the time I arrived at the doctor's office, the Pentagon had been hit. People in this tiny mountain community were visibly shaken, as they thought the fall of the Berlin Wall had finally removed the specter of an attack on Washington. Because I didn't grow up in Deep Creek, I had never given a second thought to the fact the this peaceful region lies within the fall-out zone of a nuclear attack on Washington, D.C. I was pretty calm. After all, I had grown up in a military family and participated in countless evacuation drills when we lived abroad. I knew that bad things could happen, but you just kept moving.
I was fine, that is, until I heard that a plane had flown into the ground in Shanksville, PA, just 60 miles from Deep Creek. At that moment I was seized by a panic to get back to the house and reach my husband and kids on the phone. In the back of my mind, I thought "they" were coming for ALL of us. The next few days were a blur . . . making sure my grown kids knew what to do if the attacks kept coming . . . trying to decide what to do about the upcoming class when planes weren't flying . . . watching TV coverage non-stop . . . hearing the awful news that the pilot of American Airlines flight #77, which hit Pentagon, was the older brother of one of our clients.
Somehow, six stalwart photographers who were within a reasonable driving distance of Deep Creek, made it to the Workshop. Judy and I were grateful for their perseverance, as the class helped to restore a bit of normalcy, although it was hard for all of us to concentrate, when you really wanted to turn on the news. It was as if seeing the towers fall down again and again would lead us to understand what had happened on that incredibly beautiful blue-sky Tuesday.
For the past two weeks, the weather — from New York to Deep Creek — has made the news: Everyone marveled that not a drop of rain fell on the U.S. Open in Flushing Meadows. The lake has never been more beautiful. Driving back to PA from our Deep Creek holiday, I couldn't help but be reminded of the kind of day it was on 9-11-01, and I started to feel the same unease that I have felt on beautiful September days ever since.
The streak of lovely weather ended today, and I was so glad to see the rain. The unease was still there, so I started visiting 9-11 memorial websites, where I learned they are still trying to raise money for a memorial to the souls who were lost in Shanksville. I stopped surfing after I came across a memorial site that I had visited before: http://www.voicesofsept11.org, on the 911 Reflections/songs & poems page. There, I landed on a series of songs written in memory of the day. One of them—On An Ordinary Tuesday—seemed to sum up my thoughts today. It was written by Sharon, Arthur, Margie, Alton Corey & Jeff Hodge and performed by Buddy Jewell, Copyright 2002 Sharomar Music. Here's a link if you'd like to listen.
The song was soothing today. So was the rain.
Temporary memorial to United Flight 97 in Shanksville, PA