by Chris
When I think of John I have several memories that merge into a single, strong memory of the amazing, John Newman. My first memory is of John’s docile nature. I know him for his idiosyncrasy of strolling along with his hands clutched behind his back. Even though he had a hurt foot (we all know the story), he never complained and seemed to make the most of the time – walking, observing. and thinking. Thinking of what? Probably of his next great creation.
I admired John because of his knowledge and skill of photography. I often tried to snap a photo of him taking a photo – usually from behind so he didn’t know.
Another memory is of us all (Lara, Linda, John, and I) traveling to Great Yarmouth to take in the tourist parts of Pleasure Beach. After watching a pirate show at the Hippodrome Circus, my first time seeing a donkey attraction on the beach, and taking a long walk along the boardwalk, dinner time had come (or passed?). It was late and most restaurants had closed. We popped into a Chinese food restaurant with one server and several occupied tables. We were eventually given a table to sit at but came to find out that dinner would not be served to us because the restaurant was set to close for the night. Angered and disappointed we left and had to find another restaurant. Strangely, I began to have a craving for an Italian calzone. Without question, John popped us into his car and took directions from his outdated NavSat in search of a calzone. On the way he managed to drive over a bit of the roadway median but in the end he drove us to PizzaHut (of all places) and we were treated with that elusive meal. John truly went out of his way to please everyone he loved.
I also remember our adventure to capture photos of the street artist, latest work. Just before we arrived in England for Nat and Alicia’s wedding, Banksy hit thecountryside with various pieces of art. Our mission, with John at the helm, was to find the few pieces of art that hadn’t been removed or painted over. We bounced from site to site in Suffolk to find four of Banky’s work. It may not have been as exciting for John as it was for me, but he went along, because he was “Easy” like that.
These thoughts of John, among the countless others, are what bring me to the wonderful memories of John as the quiet observer with endless talents and a giving heart.
