Hispanic Churches

I was on assignment one Sunday morning in a small church on our East Side. The story was about Hispanic churches and Spanish masses. I was looking for something powerful in a situation where few had come to the early service. And then magic. The light was perfect, the woman was praying and click! This is one of my favorite images from my past. Simple. Elegant. Done.

JENNIFER MATTHEWS-HOWELL/News-Sentinel
Hispanic parishioners of Salem United Methodist Church worship together Sunday morning with Pastor Samuel Fabila.

Bill Starkey

The reporter, Trisha, and I headed to Galt for a Lodi Living cover assignment. Apparently he was a folk artist from Oklahoma who had migrated to Galt. As a folk artist he hand crafted mandolins - his first being made from a cigar box.He used materials such as popsicle sticks, woks, human hair - everything he could get his hands on. It was one of those days where you'd like to just sit all day in his presence soaking up his history. Since the story was done in 2003, Mr. Starkey has since past. But I think of him often and have photos that have sentinmental emotions. One of the photos was on display at the Women in Photojournalism conference the following year.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
Eighty-eight-year-old folk artist Bill Starkey of Galt plays the mandolin in his garage.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
Folk artist Bill Starkey of Galt shows off one of his creations as he is reflected in mirrors his collected over the years in his garage.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
The worn hands of folk artist Bill Starkey of Galt holding his own creation of a mandolin.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
Bill Starkey of Galt holds one of his unfinished folk pieces in his garage. The 88-year-old folk artist has made musical instruments out of a variety of materials such as pigs' troughs, human hair and cement.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
Eighty-eight-year-old folk artist Bill Starkey plays the mandolin while tapping his foot along with the beat in his garage.

JENNIFER M. HOWELL/NEWS-SENTINEL
With a toothless grin, 88-year-old folk artist Bill Starkey of Galt stands with some of his instruments hanging in the bakground.

What the Duck

One day I stumbled onto What the Duck by Aaron Johnson. I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. It reminds me not to take myself so seriously. And on those days I'd like to wring someone's neck, I can chuckle that somewhere out there - there is a duck that feels the same way. Here are a few of my favorites strips.

Last dance with film on the job

JENNIFER MATTHEWS/News-Sentinel
California Highway Patrol Office Zakhary takes down information regarding a single motorcycle accident that occurred Sunday evening about 6:20 p.m. on Highway 12 at Tecklenburg Road near Lodi. EMS responded to a call reporting a person in the road. Apparently the driver of the 550 Four Honda motorcycle was not wearing a helmet and lost control of the bike. He was headed westbound at approximately 55-60 mph, says Zakhary. The victim was transferred to San Joaquin County General Hospital for injuries.

At this time I went by Matthews, my maiden name. On this particular night was the last time I used a film camera on the job. And it was actually a good thing. The flash mount on my camera had fallen apart earlier in the day at another assignment. I was in the office finishing up some work when the call came across the scanner. I was in a panic. I could not use my flash. But if I missed this what would be the consequences the next day. So I grabbed the 3200 black and white film. We still had chemicals, which was another good thing. Our small paper used color film but processed it at the local drugstore. And they were closed.
I drove out thinking, what on earth am I going to get. It is dark. I am way out in the country. I am SOL.
Then fate lent a hand. The patrol car lit the officer a bit as well as the bike. The officer had a flashlight the lit him. The victim had just been loaded up on scene and on his way to the hospital. So all that was left was the bike and officer.
I got back, processed, scanned the neg, and imaged. It was the best out of a really bad situation. That was October 24, 1999.

Welcome to my photojournalistic side

Because photojournalism is where I started in photography, I decided I should write about it and to give the world an insight to my daily life. Of course my heart also belongs to children's portraiture. My first camera came from my grandparents. It used 110 film. Do any of you know what that is anymore? :)
I vaguely remember taking photos for my grandmother around the ranch.
The first photo I remember just saying wow about was from my eighth grade trip to Washington DC from the Iwo Jima memorial. It was silhouetted against a beautiful sunset.
It wasn't until I reached the junior college level, needed an elective, and signed up for photography. I was to become a English major, but despised my instructor. No one earned higher than a D on the first paper. I dropped that class after the first exam.
At the end of the semester, the photo lab tech, whom most were afraid of, said I should call about an internship at the local paper, The Record.
Poor Jack. I laughed at him. I had one semester of black and white photography. I had been shooting windmills and broken bowls. But I called.
What was suppose to last the summer, ended up being a year and a half at the paper.
I credit my friend and mentor, Clifford, for his guidance throughout. And that closer is better. :)
I have now been at the Lodi News-Sentinel for nearly eight years. I am currently the Chief Photographer. And that is my photojournalism/photography career in a nut shell.
Photo lab - intern - photojournalist. Ta da. I hope enjoy the images you will see on this site and keep on clicking.

- A chic that clicks.