Version:1.0
StartHTML:0000000194
EndHTML:0000010322
StartFragment:0000002628
EndFragment:0000010286
SourceURL:file://localhost/Users/davidimac/Documents/17WordDocs/McnameeIrisObitBlog.doc
There are
some people who you always know you can count on, no matter what. They
are not necessarily your best friend. You may not see them for a day, a month,
or a year. But you know they are always around. Wally McNamee was one of those
people. Always good humored and always positive despite the seriousness of the
situation. A few months ago mutual friends invited us to visit with Wally
one last time. He was ill and his son had moved him from the Carolina
coast to the DC area to take care of hm. Wally wanted to say
goodbye to his photo friends and some of the people he wanted to see. To
fade your own mortality is a brave thing to do.
Anyway, His
son brought him in a wheel chair attached to an oxygen tank and mask. It
didn’t matter, you could still see that smile even though it was partially
covered by the plastic. When you write about someone you loved you can
only describe what they meant to you. So forgive me for the “me” element.
Wally covered
Presidential campaigns and the White House at a time when there were no cell
phones, computers or almost any technology. We met on some campaign and
continued to enjoy one another’s company beginning in the mid 70’s on some
political trip. It was hard working with the media because they did what they
were supposed to do and as staff, we did what we were supposed to do -- and
often produced conflict. The press, especially photographers, did not
with a few exceptions, “have our backs.”
Wally was an exception. He was someone who not only saw the humor in what
we were all trying to do, but he was able to recognize when someone, be it a
photographer, staff, or VIP, was being an asshole. And he always
found a subtle way to let them know that their behavior was unacceptable.
Sometimes it was a little more forceful than words — like the time a Russian
photo thug was pushing us around, and Wqlly clocked him on top of his head with
a fairly big camera. The camera was not hurt. And my favorite Wally
story was when we were in France or China (they all start to look alike), and a
4 foot tall and 4 foot round pretend white haired female writer/photographer,
couldn’t get past foreign security. No one ever knew how she got them, but she
had permanent White House credentials. And she was always a pain in the butt. For
example, when David…. never mind. Anyway, she was trying to get through
foreign security. They looked at her and even with White House credentials,
they wouldn’t let her through. She saw Wally and begged him to
help. He thought about it for a minute, pulled out a dollar bill which
has George Washington’s picture of course, pointed to that picture, pointed to
the woman, and the guard let her through.
It is hard to
explain how dear some of the people with whom you travel during these stressful
times become to you. You bond personally and professionally. We
celebrated holidays, happy occasions, and sad times with the friends whose
company was important and whose lives and family were intertwined with our
own. When you are writing about someone like Wally, it is impossible to
express all the emotions you feel. But you, our readers, understand.
Wally and
Nikki. They were simple attached and it is hard for me to mention one and not
the other. This blob will include what I wrote about Nikki MacNamee who
was Wally’s wife and in a women’s group we started when, as newly arrived
young women in DC, we needed friends. Nikki died a few years ago and was missed
by all who knew her. Wally died a few days ago, it is hard to believe he
and his wife Nikki are both gone.
Nikki was
also a star. Politics and photographers were mostly what brought us
together. And that gave us opportunity to see one another outside the
group –- which was also nice. Usually we had a bite at whoever’s house
and often go someplace for a drink. (those were not days we worried about
drinking and driving because we never drank very much and we all lived within a
few miles of one another.) There was one night when Nikki made a request of a
biker bartender that we all laughed so hard we almost fell off our bar
stools. She wanted a Courvoisier and ice. It was hard to imagine that she
actually expected them to have it, but it was what she wanted and
expected. The bartender looked at her as if she was speaking some foreign
language and said, “we don’t have none of that,” and Nikki persevered.
“Well you must, it’s cognac and you must have cognac”. It went on for
quite sometime, until in frustration she said, “OK we are outta here, and we
are not coming back.” We were still laughing when we left. Of
course we are not coming back, we didn’t know why we were there in the first
place.
Wally and
Nikki were simply loving, gracious, independent friends, and always up
for some kind of adventure. When you are married to a photojournalist, you have
to be pretty flexible. The best part for all of us was that she and her
husband adored one another. It was wonderful to watch them together and
to be a part of their lives. Rest in Peace my friends, we are comforted by the
fact you are together again.
No comments:
Post a Comment