I was in charge of assembling photos for a church directory, photos I collected from various members, when I encountered a serious problem.
A man who went to my church told me he had dropped off a roll of film at a downtown photo shop that included several pictures I needed. Since The News & Observer, where I worked, was downtown, would I mind picking them up?
No, I wouldn’t mind, I told him.
The roll also contained some vacation pictures of his family, he said, and I could give them to him the next Sunday, at church.
I picked up the pictures and on my way back to my office I began thumbing through them, looking for the church photos I needed. I looked at his vacation photos too — his kids playing on the beach, mostly. But not entirely. One of the pictures, taken in a bedroom, was a frontal view of his wife sitting in bed. She was naked from the waist up.
Now what was I supposed to do.
If I left the nude photo in the packet, gave it to him, and said nothing, it would probably end my friendship with him and, of course, his wife. They would have been too embarrassed to speak to me again — and I didn’t want that.
I could destroy the nudie and return everything else. That would be risky, I thought. Very risky. If he remembered taking it, he might think I kept it. A fellow could get shot over a misunderstanding like that. Besides, what about the negative?
I could destroy the picture and the negative. Even more dangerous. He might conclude that not only did I keep the nude photo of his wife, I kept the negative too, so I could make more.
So, what to do?
I looked at the picture again — not her body — her face. She looked a little goofy, intoxicated maybe. Maybe she didn’t know her picture was being taken. Maybe he was intoxicated too and wouldn’t remember. Maybe he wasn’t even in the room, maybe the picture was taken by one of their children.
My conclusion, or maybe it was it just my hope:
He didn’t know about the photo, because he didn’t take it or he was drunk and didn’t remember it. Even if he took the picture, and remembered taking it, he might conclude that the photo shop hadn’t printed it because, well, you know. So I burned the photo and returned everything else, including the negative.
He said never said a word.
Coming Friday: A Navy Game