Some 34 years ago, I met Jim and his bride Judy, standing on the stage of an Athens, GA community theatre. They were doctors of some highly intellectual science and came to see a tap show my intended, Gail, was producing, directing, choreographing, and writing for the amusement of all those involved and for the community at large. Judy wanted to join the dance troupe and Jim just wanted to help in any way he could. I put him to work creating stage props and helping build the sets. Later, he would be the photographer at our wedding. Even later we would share the joy of our respective offsprings’ births, just six weeks apart.

Through the years, our vacations on Hatteras and Thanksgiving meals would forge a friendship that was like no other for the four of us. Art shows and ballet productions would be yet more symbolic rejoiners of our mutual respect and admiration.

We laughed together at so many celebrations. We cried together at just a few losses. We stood together in his first bout with cancer. Surviving the year-long ordeal of the cure, he became just that much more a hero to me.

For 16 years, Jim was in remission. But just this past March, we all noticed what we did not recognize as the second onset of the disease. Through the year, between many visits to Johns Hopkins, Jim managed to help my son Tyler marry and I helped with his daughter Erika’s wedding. We stood together in those moments, proud, satisfied, and a little weepy.

Jim died peacefully on Wednesday evening, December 23.

For those of you who were greeted by him at the bi-annual Stockley Gardens Arts Festival, there will be one less smile among our “show sherpas.” And one of my biggest fans will no longer be there to pack paintings, stuff the tent into the van, and share an after-show festivity at the No Frill Grill.

Our loss is huge. But one of the endearing qualities of Jim’s life was that he loved well. And that will never leave us. And I have a thousand images he captured on film to remind me of the eye behind the camera and the soul of goodness which shined through it.

2023 Shillelagh Road

Chesapeake, Virginia 23323

E-Mail: info@tombarnesfineart.com