2020 - My Favorite Photo
She twirled around like a ballerina then bowed in a slow, exaggerated curtsy. Savannah’s grand entrance was dramatic. Silently, she stood awaiting my approval of her wardrobe selection for the night’s momentous occasion — a photo shoot that would preserve a special memory for eternity.
Just twenty-four hours earlier, through tears of joy, Savannah had uttered an emotional “yes” to a surprise proposal proffered by her very own Prince Charming. A few hours later, we were headed to downtown Atlanta for a formal portrait session to commemorate Savannah and Tommy’s engagement.
She dressed in a ruby red ball gown that seemed to glow when it fell upon her ivory skin. Heavy satin fabric draped elegantly to the floor, spaghetti straps criss crossed in the back, and when the long red ribbon was laced up through the twenty-four satin loops, the bodice fit like a glove. I stood speechless. My mind drifted back in time to the many milestones I had shared with my daughter, and the many dresses she had worn to mark occasions.
She made her original grand entrance in late August of 1993. I watched as a nurse plopped her down on the delivery room scales — a 7-pound-13 ounce angel who was the answer to three years of hopeful prayers. Savannah didn’t cry or fuss. Instead, her big blue eyes looked curiously around the room, as if she was trying to understand what all the fuss was about and perhaps even evaluating the competency of the medical staff. The following morning, we made the trip from the hospital in Creve Coeur, Missouri to our home in O’Fallon, Illinois. For her inaugural car ride, Savannah wore a pale pink smocked gown embellished with embroidered flowers, and a matching pink diaper cover — a gift from my Uncle Edwin and Aunt Monteen. The ensemble was of minor importance to me. What was most important was that the precious baby we had prayed for was finally home.
Four months later, we stood beside a river inside Our Lady of The Woods Church in Chicago. Bill and his parents looked on, and I held tightly to my little angel. She was not upset nor startled by the three splashes of water as the priest baptized her in the name of the Father, the Son, and The Holy Spirit. She seemed to understand and appreciate the sanctity of the occasion. The altar was adorned with twelve elegant, snow covered Christmas trees, and Savannah was adorned in an elegant white heirloom christening gown with a matching bonnet. She looked like an angel, but what was most important was that she was washed in the blood and welcomed into a community of believers who promised to love and guide her throughout her life.
Three more years passed, and I found myself struggling to keep pace with my vivacious little girl as she sprinted eagerly toward Santa’s Castle at the center of Northpointe Mall. Joyfully, she ran to the mall Santa, gripping a rolled-up “list” in her tiny hand. Savannah had chosen to wear a festive cotton dress decorated with Christmas Teddy Bears, lace pantaloons, ivory tights and black patent leather shoes. She was neither afraid nor shy. She demonstrated bravery and grace — attributes she still carries with her every day. I remember watching her converse with St. Nick himself — even putting in a good word for her little brother who was not feeling quite so social.
The memories continued to play in my mind like a favorite movie.
Six-year-old Savannah and five-year-old Jake skipped up the steps of Pinelake Country Day School in Mississippi for “picture day.” My precious baby girl posed in her blue and white gingham dress with wide-lace trim on the bottom, lace-trimmed socks, white leather shoes, and a huge matching bow atop her head. She was thrilled that she and Jake could be in the photo together, and he had generously (and surprisingly) agreed to wear his denim overalls with a matching blue gingham shirt and cap to match his big sister. When I picked them up from school later that day however, I immediately knew that something was wrong — there was dirt on her dress and knees, bark mulch in her shoes and the big hair bow was askew. Some kid on the playground had been mean to her little brother, and even though she was wearing her “pretty” dress, she had intervened. Generally a pacifist, Savannah’s actions were surely warranted. The bully’s actions must have been particularly egregious, and her sisterly justice came swiftly and decisively. Savannah’s compass points to true north — always has.
Time marched on, and by the time she was in middle school, we lived in Georgia. Halloween approached and she and her best friend Kris debated the appropriate role of thirteen year olds on Halloween. They knew they were technically too old to trick or treat, but the “children” inside weren’t ready to surrender their youth. As they teetered precariously on the threshold between childhood and adulthood, they devised a compromise. Kris dressed as Austin Powers. Savannah dressed as a goddess in a white toga with gold Roman sandals and a golden wreath encircling her head. They did not trick or treat, but they roamed carefree through the neighborhood, laughing, running and enjoying those last unburdened days of their youth.
As a gifted athlete Savannah spent much of her high school years dressed in a soccer uniform — cleats, shin guards and either the royal blue NASA uniform or the purple jersey of The Cartersville High School Hurricanes. Tough as nails as a striker, she out ran, out maneuvered and even out pushed her opponents. Soccer is a contact sport. Onlookers may have been surprised to learn Savannah had a softer side though — her “girly girl alter ego.” On five occasions, she relinquished her soccer uniform and donned formal prom dresses — my favorite being the blue mermaid gown she wore to her first prom. The dress had a rhinestone bodice, thin spaghetti straps and blue tiered crepe ruffles cascading down to the floor. She loved the gown and was a sight to behold, but that evening, she learned that stepping up high into a prom bus while wearing a form-fitting mermaid dress was a near impossibility. But true to her nature, Savannah laughed generously at herself as a pair of handsome upperclassmen had to lift her on and off the bus.
The highlight reel of Savannah’s life rolls on. At seventeen, I see her dressed in white cap and gown — a heavy Valedictorian medal hanging by a purple and gold ribbon around her neck. Bravely, with the poise of an experienced public speaker, she addressed a stadium full of onlookers as her father and I dabbed away proud tears. She encouraged her peers and all attendees to make their lives a long gift to their fellow man through volunteerism and community service.
I blinked, and before I knew it, I stood beside her on historic Grant Field at Bobby Dodd Stadium in November of 2014 — the coldest, windiest November ever. She bundled herself in a winter white wool coat, boots, tights and a gold wool scarf. Notwithstanding the extreme cold, she stood on the field, honored to be recognized by her classmates as a Ms. Georgia Tech Finalist, an honor bestowed upon her from her classmates, who found her to be a worthy representative of Georgia Tech.
After graduation, she traded her casual college attire for a business suit and pumps. As a savvy businesswoman, she is just getting started. So much lies ahead of her.
I am jolted back to the present watching her twirl in the full-skirted cranberry dress. “We gotta get downtown!” I said, my voice a bit choked up from visiting the memories in the far corners of my mind’s eye.
We loaded up, navigated through the usual crazy traffic, parked and headed up the elevator to the helipad above Ventanas. The photo I had planned was to be of the newly engaged couple dancing atop a skyscraper at blue hour — a thousand city lights twinkling behind them, but ahh the best laid plans... We set up and were ready to shoot by 8:15 p.m. The sun hit the horizon at 8:46, and so the “blue hour” arrived around 9 p.m. Even though the sun was glaring, my good friend and photographer, Randy, suggested we go ahead and begin shooting, and I am thankful for that wise counsel. Determined to get some unstaged, unscripted photos capturing the couple’s joy and happiness, we asked Savannah and Tommy to pretend we were not there. “Dance, talk, tell secrets and enjoy the moment,” we urged. As they danced, Randy and I clicked shot after shot. When the city lights began to come on, I pulled out my Photix strobe, 48” modifier and mounted them on a light stand. At that exact moment, a fierce wind kicked up from nowhere. Randy struggled to hold on to the light stand, and I managed to get exactly three clicks off before we had to abort the operation — strong winds and soft boxes don’t mix. I worried one of us might actually be blown off the helipad.
My plans were almost totally ruined, but luckily, I had followed Randy’s advice and taken a series of sunset images. As we packed up our gear, the wind whipped and howled, blowing wildly at Savannah’s hair and dress. The situation was discouraging, but always the optimist, she responded with her hardy, signature belly laugh. We sprinted for the stairs and made it safely inside.
And now, as I reminisce about the life and experiences of my beautiful little girl, I remember the dresses she wore in each stage of her life — not that the dresses and attire have any real significance. They don’t. They are mere touchstones of something greater. The dresses, the shoes, the costumes and the uniforms — they were decorations wrapped around the most glorious soul I have ever known. The light inside my little Savannah shines more brightly than the most ornate or fancy clothes she has ever, or will ever, own.
So this one formal engagement photo of Savannah and Tommy dancing on a skyscraper rooftop in Atlanta is my favorite photo of 2020. It represents all things I love about my precious Savannah — her patience, her kindness, her curiosity, her poise, and her fiercely protective nature of those she loves. It reminds me that Savannah loves big, and generously. She shows compassion and understanding to all around her. She is always willing to help anyone in need, and she ends every phone call to family with a sincere, “I love you.”
I’m not sure how it happened — I turned around one day and my little girl was grown, twirling around in a crimson dress and about to announce her engagement to the world. Maybe that’s why the photo means so much to me this year; because it not only captures a mere moment in time, but somehow, it also captured a lifetime of love and my daughter’s sparkling personality and soul.