My father would have been 74 today. He passed away 30 years ago. I wonder what kind of old man he would have been. I regret that my daughter couldn't know her Grandpa. My father was a photographer. He shot all kinds of stuff. But his true talent was his photo stories. He took time to build relationships and get to know the people he was photographing. He cared. And this led to the success of his representations. I grew up with with his work, trapped in his darkroom, sometimes being an unwilling model and helping him carry his heavy equipment on assignments. Little did I know then how he would influence my work as anthropologist. I miss him.