Mr. Withers and my story

As I opened the Commercial Appeal the morning I lost a breath as I read the headlines. One of the individuals that I have been so lucky to meet in my endeavors was Mr. Withers. I call him Mr. Withers as that's all I've ever known him as. It never dawned on me to call him Ernest. One rainy Saturday a few years back I was asked by a friend if I would like to take Mr. Withers to Jackson, Tennessee for a book signing. I enthusiastically agreed and met Mr. Withers at his Beale St. office that Saturday morning, a place I was very familiar with. We loaded up in my wife's van and proceeded down I-240 towards Jackson. Just as we got to the junction of I-240 and I-40 east, Mr. Withers stated that he needed to make a phone call as he had told Miss Dorothy (his wife) that he would call before he left town. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. Looking over at me he smiled and said to her "No we don't have any women in the car, what do you mean asking me that" as he looked over again and winked said "Well Chuck did bring a couple of cute girls to ride with us". For the next 30 minutes he had to explain to Miss Dorothy that he was only kidding and there weren't any girls in Chuck's wife car going to Jackson with us. After finally convincing her of the truth he told her he loved her and that he would see her later that afternoon. After turning he explained that she really thought that we had girls and that until this day she was still jealous. Mr. Withers was an incredible man and didn't mind talking about anything you wanted to talk about. He told me stories of taking pictures in the army and of always having good relationships with everybody no matter what their color. He talked of Dr. King and the events that happened around the assassination and how he was the one that developed the famous picture to send to the Associated Press. He talked about the nightclubs and what Beale was like back in the day and problems he had with different people when he would take their picture. He always took pictures and brought his camera that day to take pictures of the people who wanted their books signed. On the way I mentioned to him a comment I had about a picture that I had seen in his office in one of the "stacks" on a desk. It was a cropped shot of Dr. King with people around him and may have been speaking with some of the sanitation workers during the march. The picture struck me hard as you could almost read what he was saying without any captions or explanations. It's a picture I will have embedded in my mind forever. I pointed out how the picture made me feel and he politely smiled. We started another subject and were soon in Jackson at the library ready to start the book signing. Again, the entire time Mr. Withers stopping to take pictures of everyone. After almost 2 hours we packed up and headed back to Memphis in the rain. Both of us tired and ready to get home and not as talkative as on the way up. Interrupting the quietness Mr. Withers began to tell me that I had said something on the trip up that he found interesting. Not remembering what I might have said I was terrified. Did I say something that offended him? He began to explain that I made a comment that not too many people say that often and that it made him proud. He said I remarked about a certain picture (the Dr. King pic) and how it made me feel. He proceeded to let me know that it was very seldom that anyone mentions to him about how the pictures make them feel but more about the artistic style or person in the picture. It's true, his pictures told stories and he was the author. My trip with Mr. Withers to Jackson is one I will never forget and is one of the highest points in my life. To have known a man that told you what he thought, lived through the life he lived and still wasn't bitter about the not so pleasant things that had happened.

I'll miss you, but I'll see what you saw forever.