At some point in life, everyone needs a “Jim.” A Jim is someone who comes along during that crucial time (generally your early-20s), when you start to believe you have everything figured out, yet are beginning to grasp a difficult reality of life:
You are unaware of what you do not know.
When I met Jim, I had the confidence of a recent university graduate who landed a good teaching job, and was excited to begin my career as a band director. He on the other hand was a veteran director nearing retirement, who had fostered one of most comprehensive and high performing junior-high band programs in the area. Now there are plenty of very fine directors around, though what set Jim apart was not only his knowledge, but also his willingness to share everything he learned with anyone willing to listen.

Over our two years working together and the several since his retirement, Jim taught me how to build and lead a band program as he had done. This was not about him leaving a legacy though, Jim never really cared about that word. What he cared most about were the students who walked into his classroom, and being a present, supportive, and motivating force in their lives. Seeing his former students thrive in the high school band and in life beyond graduation was all the gratification he wanted. This approach to teaching has become a core of my beliefs – It is never about the person on the podium. It is always about the people in the ensemble and the music you create collaboratively. (It is saddening how many still get this backwards.)

Jim and I spent many hours in his home office, talking about life, music, teaching… and photography. (See, we got there eventually!) Jim’s father was a photographer himself, his prized camera being a Rolleiflex with the Tessar f/3.5. Jim now owns this camera, along with a impressive collection that outlines Jim’s path from a casual shooter, to a professional portrait photographer. My first “real” camera was Jim’s old Nikon D7000, which he used until his upgrade to a D750, D800, and now a Z7. The D7000 followed me around for several summers, seeing occasional use as an upgrade from my phone. Then around 2021, Jim got back into film. Which meant I got into film.

My first roll of film was the classic Ilford HP5 Plus shot through Jim’s old Nikon FG. I won’t bother sharing pictures here – there were none. While I diligently carried that camera around as the frame counter ticked up to 36, I never once remembered to check the rewind knob for film travel. As you can guess, the film slipped off and I had effectively shot 36 exposures on the same frame. I remember Jim returning from his makeshift darkroom, developing tank in hand, with a “we’ll see what happens…” kind of look. He walked me through the development process and we both had a good laugh when we saw the 1 very overexposed frame, followed by 35 blank ones. It didn’t matter the roll was a dud, the film bug had bit.

Soon after the FG fiasco I left my teaching job and moved a couple of States away, where I married my wife and started grad school. With my meager grad assistant budget, the only feasible way to keep shooting was to buy untested cameras and learn to repair them. With guidance from Jim, I learned how to replace light seals and perform a complete CLA service. First on the workbench was a Minolta XG9, followed by an Olympus OM-1, before I finally settled on a long-term shooter in my Nikon FM with a dented prism housing. (It was $80 USD and came with a Series E 50mm 1.8!)

Shooting film is still only a hobby of mine – A way to capture moments and slow down in the fast pace of a music doctorate program. I often go on photo walks between classes and rehearsals, as a way to take a mental break while still remaining in a creative mindset. I find shooting very similar to creating live music – Both acts occur over a linear progression of time and force you to belong in a moment. To capture a captivating frame or turn a beautiful phrase require high level of care in the process that immediately leads up to that “click” or “climax.” Though sometimes things also fly together by total accident and the result is more glorious than you could have imagined.

So why tell this story?
There is an incredible amount of institutional knowledge in the members of 35mmc, and any number of people like me waiting for a “Jim” to walk into their lives. Even as I write this, Jim is sitting at his workbench repairing a sticking shutter speed regulator in a Yashica Mat EM. Why? For the sole reason he wants me to experience shooting medium format. I implore you, be a Jim for someone. While my generation is inclined to explore “Youtube University” first, nothing can compare to an experienced individual, sitting beside you at a workbench as you scrape old light seal goo with a toothpick.

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BWS on A Call for Lived Wisdom, Through the Lens of a Dented Nikon FM
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Good quality photo's shown here. Jim is a unique friend to have in your acquaintance.
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Bill Brown on A Call for Lived Wisdom, Through the Lens of a Dented Nikon FM
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Jeffery Luhn on A Call for Lived Wisdom, Through the Lens of a Dented Nikon FM
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Great post!! Loved the photos and perspective.
This quote comes from the Mishnah, an ancient Jewish book: "Find thyself a teacher and make yourself a friend."
That characterizes your long relationship with Jim.
If we're lucky, we've had mentors. Luckier still, we've become friends. Luckiest of all, we have become mentors.
At 72, I'm in the enviable position to be a mentor to my photo students and young jazz players that I collaborate with at gigs. These are the activities that keep me going. I wouldn't have a life without these joys.
Thanks for your posting!
Jeffery Luhn
Gary Smith on A Call for Lived Wisdom, Through the Lens of a Dented Nikon FM
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Thanks!
Steve Kotajarvi on A Call for Lived Wisdom, Through the Lens of a Dented Nikon FM
Comment posted: 04/03/2025
Excellent post and thank you for sharing. I had to pause a couple times to think about who the Jims are in my life. We are lucky to have them and hopefully offer this to others as well.
Steve