Sunday, September 18, 2011

Gus remembers Greer Cavagnaro

Clellie had a friend, Greer Cavagnaro and every June 11 I think of him and remember him. In fact, I'm here today - in one piece; thanks to Greer.

Greer was a professional photographer and worked for Jules Pierlow Photography, in Clayton. Jules Pierlow was the premier society photographer in the St. Louis area. I suppose at one point I met him, but it's Greer I remember. My first job was a a "sidelight" boy for Greer. I went to weddings with him and stood, as directed (usually), with a flashgun on a pole or handle of some type, and my job was to aim it at the group or person being photographed. It provided extra light and reduced shadows.

Greer taught me about darkroom work and I often developed film and printed pictures in his professional lab in his mother's home at 8 Aberdeen Place in St. Louis. And later in the studio and lab that Greer and his partner, Neil Sauer, had in Gaslight Square.

From time-to-time, when there were too many weddings booked on a Saturday, Greer would send me to take the pictures at the beginning on the wedding, and he'd arrive in time to finish. I remember that the family always wanted to know when the "real" photographer would show up, not the kid with a big camera.

We used 4x5 Speed Graphics - the old "press" camera. Greer had fashioned a square aluminum bracket to hold the Speed Graphic and with a Leica 35mm camera on top. People always asked how we expected to get good (large) photographs with that tiny camera. Little did they know.

Greer also took me camping and taught me to shoot a muzzle-loading rifle - the old black-powder type. It was probably he who gave me the 4-gauge, flintlock, elephant gun.

Thanks to Greer, I'm here. Greer had a VW Beetle in the 1950s and had installed military aircraft-type, wide-web, quick-release seat belts. I thought they were "neat", so I installed one, too, but only on the driver's side. Looking back, pretty stupid, right? One evening I rolled my 1949 Ford sedan out in north St. Louis County and, thanks to my seat belt, I stayed in the car as it sailed off the highway into a cornfield and rolled three times. I was alone and, to this day, remember exactly how and why the crash happened.

Greer was a great mentor and friend. I'll always remember, too, advice from him that I didn't take. After I had enlisted in the USAF in 1959 and finished boot camp in San Antonio, Texas, I was transferred to Lowry AFB in Denver. Greer advised me to get a motorcycle and spend my week-ends in the mountains. Sure wish I had!