Photographers' lives an inspiration - even after death

There is no doubt Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros lived to get the once-in-a-lifetime shot.

They were probably still hunting for it when they died.   

Both photojournalists were killed April 20 in Misrata, Libya.

The best information available indicates they were killed by a rocket propelled grenade (the Russian words for rocket propelled grenade actually mean "anti-tank grenade launcher." If the device is intended to destroy a tank, one can only imagine what it would do to a human being). The circumstances of their deaths remain unclear.

When the daily news is peppered with stories of people who die for no reason, what's so special about these men?

When I first heard about their deaths, I was tempted not to pay very much attention. As a journalist, I should care. After thinking about their deaths, I realized I wanted to find out more. 

Hetherington did documentary work and special projects. Hondros took pictures for Getty Images, a company that supplies news photos and other images. 

Some would say the two men acted in a cavalier manner by taking the risk of being in a war zone when they could have been happily photographing children or ice cream cones in New York.

They chose to visit Libya and they knew what could happen.

What is their story to you?

You should care because if Hetherington and Hondros (and other journalists, both reporters and photographers) did not want to share the ugliness of war, did not want to bring a jolting visual to your day, you would not know what is going on in the world.

Without knowing who they were, you may have already viewed one of Hondros' photos or seen part of Hetherington's documentary ("Restrepo") and shuddered or were changed because of it.

If this is the case, then these two men--one was 40 and one was 41--have already directly affected your life.     

I was initially interested in their deaths because I enjoy photography (although my main camera right now is a point and shoot), and have taken some classes at Richland.

I also found their stories to be inspirational because Hetherington and Hondros died doing something they love. The adrenaline rush they felt while documenting the Libyan conflict is something I seek in life.

They were killed tragically. The nanometer of brightness is that they died doing their life's work.       

Along with the Associated Press story announcing their deaths, one of Hondros' images appeared in the Dallas Morning News. Judging by the caption, the picture must have been taken the same day he died. He was clicking up until the last minute. No doubt Hetherington was doing the same.

This devotion and commitment also piqued my interest. The two were recognized war photographers.

They probably carried the unending devotion to portraying their subjects and sharing what they saw with others wherever they went.    

While doing research for this story, I read a comment about Hetherington on a message board saying that he was a "nice bloke." While I know nothing about him, all the messages that have been left online seem to indicate that he was a decent "bloke."            

On the site washingtonpost.com, I viewed some pictures that Hondros took just before his death. The images spotlight Libyan rebels.

The photos are dramatic, pleading, and show that he was just a breath away from the fighting. In the midst of war his pictures created a crystal-clear image.      

For my part, I will think of them next time I pull out my small camera from Comp USA.

Maybe, in some small way, I can push the envelope, just like them. 

Or, more appropriately, smash it with a tank.