He who carried film in his socks

I'm pretty sure we've all been asked the question, "If you could sit down and have a conversation with anyone in the world, living or dead, who would it be?" (or something very similar). Ever since my 2001 fall semester of graduate school at Michigan State University, I've unequivocally answered: Larry Burrows.

Larry Burrows was a photographer for LIFE magazine from 1945 until his death in 1971, three months short of his forty-fifth birthday. While he did not like being called a war photographer, he had a knack for capturing the exquisitely poignant, yet often painful images of the Vietnam War. The following passage is published in "Requiem: By the Photographers Who Died in Vietnam and Indochina," likely the most cherished of all the books I own:

"He had been photographing in Calcutta when he heard that the South Vietnamese were poised to invade Laos. He flew back to the war he knew best and did what he always did: went to the front to find the action. Just before he died, Burrows behaved in a characteristic manner, risking his life to rescue a Vietnamese soldier from a burning personnel carrier. The next morning, in bad weather, Burrows and Kent Potter of UPI, Kiezaburo Shimamoto of Newsweek, and Henri Huet of AP were aboard a helicopter headed into Laos. The pilot lost his way, flew over enemy gun positions, and was shot down. LIFE managing editor Ralph Graves called Burrows 'the single bravest and most dedicated photographer I know of.'"

One of my favorite professors at MSU had the opportunity to work alongside Larry during the Vietnam War. To hear about Mr. Burrows first-hand, especially from McWhirter (the aforementioned professor), was amazing, albeit heart-wrenching for the most part. His passion was reporting, but that never got in the way of his humanity. He carried countless soldiers off of the fields, did his best to lay cover when necessary and never compromised what it was in his heart to do - keep America informed - openly, honestly and accurately. His actions always reflected those of a man far more interested in the preservation of life and LIBERTY - whether or not it would prove to be his own.

For me, the most memorable of Burrows' photo essays was published in the April 16, 1965 issue of LIFE magazine. I proudly own an original copy. “One Ride With Yankee Papa 13” was a fourteen-page, black-and-white spread that followed a mission of seventeen helicopters, four of which were shot down. A great deal of blood was shed and life lost.

One of the last photos is captioned, “In a supply shack, the tragic and frustrating mission over, Crew Chief James Farley weeps.” I cry every single time I look at it.

I’ve always envisioned Burrows as a quirky, Jeff Goldblum sort of look-alike, with more compassion for humankind than anyone I’ve met thus far. He is, indeed, the one person I would request to meet above all others if given the chance, and I would do my best to NOT ask him what it was like in Vietnam. His pictures have shown me enough - both what I didn't want to see and what I had to see.

And yes, he was known by his peers as "the man who carried film in his socks."

The photo above was copied from http://www.art.com