Not long after our good friend Dale Young passed away, I asked a friend of ours if I could go over to his place to take some pictures. I had an idea rolling around in my head I really wanted to capture and he was kind enough to oblige. Once there I tried to put some thought into what about the condo made it “his place”; what I was after was a picture of him, without him. At the time, I had no idea how hard it would be to do that, or how hard it would be to “finish” a project like this. It has been almost two years of picking it up and putting it down, but today, on what would have been his 75th birthday, I’m happy to finally share it.
From the house shoes I used to harass him about, to the old books he loved to collect, to his favorite “after dinner drink” and the ornate appointments of his home, it was all secondary to his chair. Dale would greet you at the door with a smile, a pat on the back and a “come on in here!”, and then we’d solve the world’s problems while he sat in that chair. It was the kind of chair you just sort of fell in to, and then might need help getting out of, and frankly it’s the one thing of his that would likely reduce me to tears if I saw it in person today. Of all his belongings, nothing says W. Dale to me quite like that chair.
Happy Birthday old friend.