Bang bang bang. I’ve always been comfortable around guns. When my dad was young, he was a ranch hand. The gun for him was just another tool. My father taught me how to shoot a gun. How to clean it. How to respect it, and so on. So I’ve always been comfortable, no problem. But there have been a few situations where guns have made me very uncomfortable. I’ll explain.
My very first ever trip as a fashion photographer, I was hired at the last minute to do a photographic shoot in a part of the world that was really unstable (the photographer the magazine hired, backed out at the last minute). Because I was so young and eager, I took the trip. When I got to where I was going, I realized why the original photographer backed out. Man, it was like the Wild West where I was going. Now, I promise not to talk about the whole trip, mention where I was, but I can tell you this: Our host had a big house, big enough to house each of my crew members. In each room there was a closet and in these closets was an automatic rifle, loaded and ready to go. Just had the safety on. The makeup artist came to my room and said, “Hey, look what I found in my room.” It was a huge assault rifle I’d never seen before. And things got worse from there, but I won’t go into it.
Another trip I was on, the producer had a 9 millimeter automatic in his possession (God only knows why he carried this thing around). Anyway, the producer thought it would be a good idea to throw our empty beer cans into the water and teach the model how to fire an automatic handgun. She fired a couple rounds, hit a can, jumped up and down waving the gun screaming, “I hit it, I hit it.” She had been waving the gun under my jaw. I thought I was gonna have to go check my shorts, and yes, she was blond.
One time, I was visiting some family friends. I came to the front door and a little kid had a 45 mm old time hand gun pointed at me, and he was saying bang bang bang. The thing was loaded. You could see the bullets in the revolver chamber.
But the worst, by far, was the trip I did to West Africa. It was a small country called Togo, Africa. When we arrived, the fashion editor said, I’ll be by the pool. You get the clothes and the equipment. I thought, Great, this is gonna be a fun triup. Well, I went to get my baggage, it was not there. Then a few armed guards came and got me and put me in a military jeep, and when I say armed, they weren’t lightly armed. These guys were ready for war. Anyway, they drove me to the other side of the runway with all my equipment. The soldiers put me in a waiting room. There was one other guy in the waiting room and he was shaking like crazy. The guy was definitely scared. Finally, my name was called and I was escorted to another room. Now, what’s next is like a scene from a movie. I went into this dark room with a long table and my equipment and our clothes on the table. There was one bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Below the light bulb was a general. There were colonels on either side of him and more guys with assault rifles. The whole thing was like a scene from a movie. Then the general said to me, in a perfect Oxford English accent, “What are you doing here?” I said, “We’re just doing a fashion shoot. We’ll be here for like a week.” Then the general said, “Stay at the hotel, around the pool, and don’t leave the grounds, and if you photograph the presidential palace, you will be shot on sight. I thought, “Charming.” I said to him, “I’ll tell my boss.” Later that week, there was a military coup. We were rushed through the airport and got on the plane with just our hands in our pockets. All of our equipment, all of our clothes were left at the hotel. I thought I’d never see that stuff again. I couldn’t believe it, but it all cleared customs in Paris and we got it back.
The gentleman working here at the moment is from Ghana Africa and he remembers the military coup in Togo. Ironic right? Anyway, now you can see why I’m nervous around guns sometimes. I have a few other stories but I won’t get into it.
Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice
