I want you to meet someone special.
Actually, I’ll let him tell you a little about himself.
[On] July 5, 1982, [I] walked into the newsroom at the Muskogee Phoenix (Oklahoma) to start my first day. Little did I know that job would start me on a career that’s been wonderful, depressing, uplifting and fulfilling as it has been. It has carried me through five newspapers, countless hundreds of thousands of images (for my visual friends — ALL of them PERFECTLY exposed, and in focus, framed exquisitely, with the light in the right place EVERY TIME …).
Oh, OK, maybe SOME of those weren’t keepers.
But the colleagues, friends, mentors and subjects I’ve met along the 35-year journey have been. Having been raised in the Baptist church, I know better than to start naming names; you’re gonna forget someone. To start, there’s the whole crew at the Muskogee Phoenix, my friends and editors at the Fort Myers (Florida) News-Press, the folks that saw me meet and get married to Leslie while we both spent a brief period of our careers in Jackson at the Clarion-Ledger (Mississippi). The newsrooms at the York Observer (South Carolina) and then the Charlotte Observer (North Carolina) that saw the birth of our kids. … Finally, and not least, the newsroom that I’m currently in, here, at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
I’ve spent the last 19 years (in August) here and have seen the family flourish and grow. Ali is a newly minted college graduate. Daniel on his way to becoming an airline pilot. Elaine will navigate the tricky shoals of the fifth grade.
When I think back on the countless assignments, I’m always impressed the most by the people. The court cases, sporting events, portraits, feature assignments and news scenes that stand out in my memories. Those kids I covered since ‘82 that are now full-grown adults with families of their own. The folks that have long since moved to their greater rewards in Glory. Lives lived long and well, lives cut short in their prime.
My main goal throughout has been to tell THEIR stories, and maintain a little piece of history, one frame at a time.
Meet Kent Johnson, our beloved photo chief.
He died suddenly last Saturday. He was 57.
Although our hearts are breaking, I take great comfort in his Facebook post, above, from earlier this year. It offers a snapshot of his life, his family, his humor, his career and his dedication.
As senior editor of visuals, I was Kent’s supervisor – technically. In truth, we were more like partners.
Kent long had been a mainstay on the photo team when I joined the visual journalism world. Kent had spent the bulk of his time at the AJC as a photo editor, and he was damn good at it. The team needed that. So did I.
This past week, I’ve heard this from a number of people who have worked with Kent over the years, and all said nearly the same thing: He had our backs. They talked about how it gave them confidence and security to go out and do their jobs, knowing Kent was on the photo desk. It’s not easy being out in the public covering news, especially with a camera.
“He was a powerful and fierce advocate for the First Amendment role of visual journalists,” Deputy Managing Editor Shawn McIntosh posted in a remembrance of Kent. “No government bureaucrat ever shut out a photographer while allowing in a reporter, confiscated film, denied photographic credentials or otherwise disrespected visual journalists when Kent was on the case.”
As much as he was a fierce protector, he was a nurturer, as well. He guided a number of younger photographers, college interns and those relatively new to the job. Former AJC photographer Elissa Benzie said that to her Kent was the desk. He was here when she joined the paper and he was here when she left. She relayed how there would be times she would call Kent convinced that she had messed up an assignment, and he would assure her that everything would be fine.
I’m struck by a memory of Kent sitting side-by-side with our most recent photo intern, Chad Rhym. Kent was helping him edit his photos for the AJC Super 11 sports team, which is in Sunday’s Sports section. Both were deep in conversation discussing the pros and cons of each photo, Kent offering advice and insight on his selections. They could have been father and son — both tall, both fairly lean, both black men. I couldn’t help thinking how important it was that Chad could see the embodiment of what his future could be. To see that it was possible because Kent was proof.
Maybe that role came easily to Kent because he was a great father. He had a son and two daughters, all with the love of his life, his wife Leslie. Anyone who knew Kent, knew that he loved his family. They were his everything.
We will miss him — dearly. We will miss more than his guidance, we will miss his presence. I will miss my friend, my partner, his booming laugh, his stories about his family, his posts on Facebook showcasing some newly discovered photo from his family archiving project.
Leslie lost a husband; Daniel, Alison and Elaine lost a father; the world lost a good man.
PHOTO GALLERY
The best of AJC photographer Kent D. Johnson: www.ajc.com/kentjohnson
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