PORTFOLIO TWO • Fame and Fortune
There is one star on Texas’ flag but many in its firmament. The portraits showcase Texans who skyrocketed to celebrity or success.
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No.61
Walker Railey Look-alike by Geof Kern
Dallas, “The Sins of Walker Railey” January 1988
I’VE NEVER LIKED THIS PICTURE. IT IS powerful, it is dramatic, but it is not Walker Railey. The model who posed for it, Jerry Biggs, is an eerie dead ringer for the infamous Dallas preacher who >so many believe got away with the attempted murder of his wife, Peggy. Railey himself did not consent to pose for Texas Monthly. It troubles me that some people who see this picture believe that he did, despite the small type crediting the modeling agency. Although we live in an age when the manipulation of images is absurdly easy and increasingly common, people still tend to believe what they see with their own eyes—that’s why photography is such a powerful and nearly irrefutable medium. This photograph carries a journalistic message that undermines the intent of the article. In the minds of those who think that the picture is Walker Railey, it says that the man is sufficiently callous to sit in a studio in the shadow of a cross in order to get his picture in a magazine. In the minds of those who guess that it is not Railey, it poses a subtle question about what today’s standards of truth are. Lawrence Wright
No.62
Nurse and Convicted Baby Killer Genene Jones by Robert Latorre
Kerrville, “The Death Shift” August 1983
WHEN SHERIFF’S DEPUTIES USHERED Genene Jones into the small jailhouse room where Robert Latorre took this chilling portrait during the summer of 1983, she wasted no time trying to convince the photographer that she was not a baby killer. “I didn’t do it!” she blurted. Jones, a pediatric nurse, was in the Kerr County jail awaiting trial on charges of murdering fifteen-month-old Chelsea Ann McClellan with injections of a paralyzing drug—and she was under investigation for more than a dozen other mysterious emergencies in a pediatric intensive- care unit in San Antonio. To Latorre, who was allowed just ten minutes with the accused nurse, “the picture doesn’t lie. I took twelve exposures—and every one of them showed guilt written all over her face.” Two Texas juries agreed. Jones—whose duty hours at Bexar County Hospital had become known among doctors and nurses as “the death shift”—was later convicted of murder in the McClellan case and, in a second trial, for one of the San Antonio episodes, of injury to a child. Why did she do it? Testimony suggested that Jones was an inveterate thrill-seeker who craved the excitement of being at the center of “code-blue” emergencies. When her work didn’t provide enough crises naturally, Jones induced them herself by injecting patients with powerful drugs. After the publication of the Texas Monthly story and Jones’s trials, the case inspired two books and a TV movie. Jones, who received concurrent sentences of 99 and 60 years, remains in the Texas prison system today. Peter Elkind
No.63
Golf Legend Harvey Penick and Writer Bud Shrake by Michael O’Brien
Austin, “The Old Man and the Tee” December 1993
IN ONE BRILLIANT SNAP MICHAEL O’BRIEN captured an image as timeless as the game itself. The late golf legend Harvey Penick, the subject of a December 1993 profile, and Bud Shrake, who coauthored with Penick a best-selling series of golfing tips, seem eternally framed by Austin’s blue sky, green grass, and a surreal spill of range balls. Enfeebled by age, Penick had to pose seated. “Harvey was so sweet and humble, and Shrake was so caring and protective,” recalls O’Brien. “But the nicest touch of all was when they sat down and I realized the dramatic difference in their size.” Gary Cartwright
No.64
Lady Longhorn Cobi Kennedy by John Huet
Austin, “A Whole New Ball game” March 1994
AS ONE OF THE COUNTRY’S PREMIER sports photographers, John Huet knows the pressure of getting the perfect shot at the perfect time. But even he didn’t know how good his timing was when he came to Lubbock via California to photograph women basketball players for the March 1994 issue. “Because the availability of some of the Texas Tech players changed, we flew in late Sunday night instead of on Monday,” says Huet, who calls Boston home. “When we woke up the next morning, we learned that we had missed one of the worst earthquakes in Southern California history by about six hours.” Fortunately, no close calls threatened the Texas project, which took Huet from Lubbock and Levelland to Austin, where he netted this photo of Lady Longhorn Cobi Kennedy, hands clutching her shorts, legs dripping with sweat. “The whole reason I did that shot was to emphasize the tattoo,” says Huet, “but that pose is one that any basketball player can identify with.” Best known for his vital, impassioned photos of street players, the veteran photographer admitted that women’s basketball was, for him, a brand-new game. “I didn’t want to treat the women any differently than I treated men,” he says. “I used black and white because I didn’t want the shots to have a bright, happy color. These girls work hard and they sweat, and I wanted the photos to reflect that.” Brian D. Sweany/p>
No.65
Houston Rocket Hakeem Olajuwon by Arthur Meyerson
Houston, “The Texas Twenty” September 1994
HOW DOES ARTHUR MEYERSON DESCRIBE SEVEN-FOOT, 255-pound Hakeem Olajuwon, Houston’s “Eighth Wonder of the World”? “Hakeem was like a kid in a candy store walking around the studio,” the photographer says. “I thought that he would just do the shoot and leave, but he stayed and wanted to look at all the photographs I had taken that were hanging in the studio.” Even though this September 1994 “Texas Twenty” portrait was the first time the two had worked together (Meyerson has since photographed Olajuwon for other projects, including his autobiography), the session came off without a hitch. “The photo almost has the feel of a piece of African sculpture, with a sense of dignity and pride,” says Meyerson. “There’s nothing there that signifies that this man is a basketball player, but when I looked through the viewfinder, I knew we had something special.” Meyerson’s work wasn’t done, however, when the shoot was over. That night at the Summit, Olajuwon was named the NBA’s most valuable player, so Meyerson rushed to frame a photo he had taken in Hong Kong that the Rockets star had admired earlier that day. In return for his generosity, Meyerson snagged courtside tickets to the Rockets playoff series. Not bad for a day’s work. Brian D. Sweany
No.66
Football Star Roger Staubach by Kent Kirkley
Dallas, “The Aging of the All-American Boy” October 1977
THE GAZE AND BODY LANGUAGE CONVEY the grudge. In 1977 I jumped at the chanceto write a profile of Roger Staubach, but months earlier, another Texas Monthly writer had pronounced the Dallas Cowboys quarterback the state’s “best wimp.” “I had nothing to do with that,” I assured his publicist. “I’m a fan!” Still, when I reached training camp, Staubach let me know this was not coverage he much desired. He was a perfect gentleman, though, and one day after practice he let his guard down. “I just don’t understand where they got that word,” he said. “To me a wimp is some skinny little guy that wears glasses—you know, an accountant. Somebody like Woody Allen.” I winced inwardly, knowing that I would use the line, and that he would not forgive or forget.
I winced again when I heard that the magazine had assigned a Dallas photographer to pose the clean-cut Staubach waving an American flag. “I was not a sports fan at all,” Kent Kirkley recalls. “I knew
a little about him because my ex-wife’s brother had gone to the Naval Academy with him—but not enough. I did some portrait shots, stalling, then finally got out the flag and broached the subject. He was very polite but indicated that was not what he wanted to do. Now what? I noticed a big bandage on his elbow. He’d gotten a bad abrasion at practice. That detail”—which affords the photo its subtle flair—“was the only thing that identified him as a football player.” Jan Reid
No.67
Heavyweight Contender George Foreman by Don Glentzer
Houston, “How George Foreman Finally Beat Muhammad Ali” September 1989
ASSIGNED TO SHOOT A STORY ON GEORGE FOREMAN’s comeback attempt, Houston photographer Don Glentzer arrived at the boxer’s no-frills gymnasium with a thirty- by forty-foot American flag. The flag had become the forty-year-old’s personal symbol, and he gladly posed in front of it. However, Foreman refused to remove his shirt because he was 35 pounds overweight, and when the photographer asked him to look menacing, Foreman’s reaction was to smile. “He’s basically a teddy bear,” says Glentzer, who after the shoot donated the huge flag to brighten up the combination gym and neighborhood youth center. Gary Cartwright
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