Remembering Carol Ivie Remembering Carol Ivie (June 15, 2005)

Staff members share their memories of the Almanac's longtime photographer

Carol Ivie worked at the Almanac for 29 years. Some of us old-timers have known and worked with her from those early days. This week, members of our editorial staff are sharing their memories of Carol and what it was like to work with her.

10,000 photos

Twenty-nine years. That's about 1,500 issues of the Almanac. And probably 10,000 or more Carol Ivie photos published in the Almanac during the years she was on the staff.

Nearly all the photos involved separate "shoots," as we call them --going out to a location to shoot many pictures, of which only one might be chosen for publication.

That involved contact with a lot of people.

And that was only part of her job. With our conversion to digital photography, Carol was spending maybe a third to half of her time on the computer, managing files, handling the multitude of e-mail photos, and working on our photo archive.

As managing editor I worked with Carol for 17 of those 29 years, contacting her nearly every day, and often on weekends and holidays. She was pleasant, dependable and cooperative, willing to take on new challenges, including the new technology.

If you want to know more about Carol's role at the Almanac and in the community, read Jane Knoerle's story on Page 5 of the June 8 issue of the Almanac.

Carol will be greatly missed by me, others on the Almanac staff, and hundreds of people in the community. -- Richard Hine

Chronicling the school scene

Carol photographed and I chronicled the school scene together for decades -- graduation, back-to-school reports, changing superintendents, the ongoing era of school construction and, of course, student activities.

She took a genuine interest in capturing in photos the content of cover story projects we shared, such as the Boys & Girls Club update for the Almanac's Holiday Fund and the recent "Building Community" in the Portola Valley schools.

I especially treasure Carol's gift to me. She guided and encouraged me, a novice, into discovering the mystery and magic of taking photos. -- Marjorie Mader

No press pass needed

One of the greatest disappointments of my professional career is that I have never been asked to produce a press pass. I've covered any number of stories where access was limited to emergency personnel and the press -- a big Woodside wildfire, a manhunt for a sex offender in Atherton, a fatality on the Caltrain tracks -- and never once has any official demanded my credentials.

That's because, on all those stories, Carol Ivie was the photographer. Carol was instantly recognizable to everyone. Sheriff's deputies, town officials, firefighters, paramedics, bystanders, you name it, everyone knew her and was glad to see her. No laminated ID could compare with the sight of Carol and her camera bag arriving on the scene.

Of course, we covered many more mundane things than crimes and fires. Carol and I often found ourselves unexpectedly tramping through mud, hiking down gullies, dodging poison oak and clambering across creeks in pursuit of a story.

Carol loved to be outdoors, and I'd often forget she wasn't as spry as she used to be, because nothing ever seemed to stop her. Every now and again I'd see Carol as our interview subjects did. They'd slow their steps, pointedly avoid low-hanging branches or offer to give her a hand across some obstacle. She'd usually politely decline, although when she needed help she was always gracious and matter-of-fact about accepting it.

Carol always got the job done, and invariably, by the end of an excursion any preconceptions our subjects may have had about her would have evaporated. -- Andrea Gemmet

A real jock

As a reporter who dragged Carol out to stories all over the county, I tended to forget her age. She made it easy. She was always a good sport and she didn't balk at much of anything.

When we went to a dog run a few weeks ago, she was the one getting down with the canines, covered with Newfoundland slobber, while I hung back. And I remember wading around in the mud with her at a Woodside High School football game in 1996. After the team lost, Carol caught a shot of the dejected quarterback that became one of my favorite Almanac covers.

I especially valued Carol when doing a sports story. I may have been the one conducting the interview, but Carol was the real jock. She always asked better questions than I did. -- Rebecca Wallace

Comfortable conversation

Carol enjoyed companionship. When headed to a photo shoot, going in the same car rather than separately was her preference and mine, when we were in good moods and had no other appointments to keep.

Casual conversation is one of my challenges, but Carol made it comfortable with her sense of humor and willingness to talk about her own experiences and opinions.

Putting aside the infirmities of age, Carol persevered, whether in confronting the eternal mystery of a computer -- having grown up in an era of pencil and paper -- or quietly and carefully finding her footing in wet grass or crossing an algae-coated sluice to get close enough for a wildlife shot. -- David Boyce

Hold the cilantro

Carol and I started our careers at the Almanac when we were both at the half-century mark. We knew all about running a house and raising kids and welcomed the new challenge of working for a community newspaper.

We operated as a team. I did the interviews, she took the pictures. Through the years we did bridal and fashion sections, countless homes and gardens, and food sections.

We checked out the newest restaurants, where Carol's dinner would get cold while she photographed the food. She was a picky eater, but was game to try almost anything -- except cilantro. If there was a hint of cilantro in a dish, she wouldn't touch it. On the other hand, she loved chocolate.

Carol never lost the qualities that came from growing up in a small town during the Depression. She had lived in near-poverty and, later, in wealth; neither changed her. She remained a modest, self-effacing woman who always put the needs of others above her own. -- Jane Knoerle

Through different lenses

I always looked forward to times when Carol and I could drive together to assignments, particularly to the Woodside hills or the far reaches of Portola Valley, because on those occasions we could talk at length, without the distraction of work.

During those long excursions, I heard stories of Carol's childhood, and learned about the breadth of her interests and curiosity.

Her interest in photography, I came to believe, had its roots in that curiosity. She wanted to learn about things both animate and inanimate by seeing them at various angles, through different lenses. And the excitement she displayed when she came back from an assignment or a vacation with fabulous images was reflective, I think, of her sense that those sweet-eyed grandkids -- or the stunning Alaska landscape, or the sunlit wildflowers -- had revealed themselves to her in just the right way. -- Renee Batti

More than expected

About six years ago, back when I was writing fairly regularly for the newsroom, Carol suggested we do a cover story on Stan Drake, who'd been teaching/coaching kids at Phillips Brooks School for more than 20 years.

This was the first time I worked with Carol. I interviewed Stan and Carol took a variety of shots of him alone and with kids in the gym. After she was done, she simply set her camera down and listened to the interview, because she liked him so much.

I was surprised by this, as I expected her to simply do what she was required to do and leave. It was refreshing that she had retained interest beyond her own tasks. -- Bill Rayburn

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