B&W Challenge Day 2:

I went to college at The Maryland Institute. [It's now called MICA because that's easier for the kids to spell or something.] It was a good fit. I gravitated toward documentary and people pictures. Anything on the street. I especially enjoyed photographing strangers. This was shot at the now closed Bowie Race Course. I still like going to the track and spend a lot of time there. Too much time according to my accountant.

B&W Challenge Day 3:

I photographed the Baltimore City Fire Department for my Senior Thesis in 1981-82. It was a great leap of faith by fire chief Peter J. O'Conner and his public information officer Patrick Flynn. They gave me a helmet, boots, turnout gear, and a run of the department. This was right at the end of the era where a civilian could sign a waiver and ride on fire apparatus. I have no idea how I didn't get killed. The photos were eventually displayed at the Baltimore City Hall Gallery, and published in a book, "...In Service." A Documentary of the Baltimore City Fire Department. I still have a few copies left, and they make great Christmas gifts. See what I did there?

B&W Challenge Day 4:

My big break came in 1982 after college graduation. No one gets anywhere by himself. We all have help. My schoolmate, Barry Holniker, was a photographer at The City Paper. They only had two, Jenny Bishop was the other. He brought me in as the third to back them up. The art director was Paula Handler (the definition of gruff) and it was love at first sight. Russ Smith and Phyllis Orrick were the editors. The director of advertising was Alan Hirsch, who I still call Mr. Hirsch. I was teamed with writer Mike Anft and we covered the fall elections. That's when I shot this photo of MD Governor Harry Hughes. When I turned my photos in, Phyllis said, "Oh my God. You made the governor look like a horse who just snorted cocaine." I didn't know if that was good or bad. It ran on the front page. So that was good.

B&W Challenge Day 5: Working at the City Paper and publishing the Fire Department book paid off, and in 1988 I got my dream job. The Baltimore Sun had an opening for a photographer in their marketing department and I got the call. I loved it there. For 10 years I'd wake up in the morning and I couldn't wait to go to work. THAT'S the definition of a great job. For most of those years Dave Belz was the boss. Good boss. I shot this photo when I sneaked off to Memorial Stadium one afternoon to watch an Orioles game with Evening Sun columnist Kevin Cowherd. On that day he gave me this sage advice: "What's the use of having a press pass if you can't abuse it?"

B&W Challenge Day 6:

I left the Sun and turned freelance in 1999. The whole newspaper industry was changing and early retirement buyouts were commonplace. I didn't think anything could be better than working at the Sun, but freelance is. The money is better, and so is the time. I haven't worked a 40 hour week in 15 years. Not one. Best of all, I now have the luxury of choosing my clients. I only work for nice people. I photographed the annual report for Angela Simmons at the Institute of Notre Dame, an all girls high school. The young ladies, each wearing a long white gown and carrying a dozen long-stemmed roses, line up and march into the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen for their commencement. It's a breathtaking sight. And no one is there to see it. All the guests are inside waiting for the ceremony to begin.

B&W Challenge Day 7: Everything is digital now. I love it, but it has come at a tremendous cost. Almost all the camera and photographic supply houses are gone. Same for the photo labs. On any given week I used to see all the professional photographers around town buying film, supplies, or waiting to pick up a print job. It was fun to talk business and see what everyone else was doing. Some are still around, but many have moved on to do different things. I think that's what I miss the most. I shot this for Justin Custer and his band Squaaks. It isn't even a black and white photo, everything in it just happens to be black and white. Look closely at the man's wrist. So that's it. Thanks for listening. In the words of Susan Alexander Kane, "Come around and tell me the story of your life sometime."