Thirty-four years ago, I headed into the mountains of Northern California on a tip that there was a captivating character that might be perfect for a series of portraits I was preparing for a new gallery show. I met up with Gabby - that is what everyone called him because he resembled actor Gabby Hayes - alongside the mountain road that leads into Yosemite National Park and ran past the camper trailer he called home. He had just come back from a doctor's visit that his daughter had lovingly dragged him to, and he was in less than a good mood. He cussed and swore about how the day had gone for him. Still, he continued sharing bits and pieces of his life story with me. I offered to come back later. But "No, no, no," he said, we were going to do this now. Yet in between the outbursts, I came to realize that he was actually enjoying the attention.
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