Sunday Evening Appointments

~Shared by Chris Barnett and Reinhold Gras~

We didn’t know how much our lives would be touched by the big guy who came in to our shop to speak with us about framing his photography.  Though it wasn’t long that we began to think of him as our friend as well as our customer,  almost all of the time we had with Chip over the years had to do with meeting to discuss framing, and signing his large prints.  

Chips’s beautiful large silver prints were carefully printed and mounted by Steve Rifkin and his team, then crated and sent to us.  Then we’d wait for Chip to propose a day or time that worked for him.  Given Chip’s busy life, these dates almost always took place outside of regular business hours, a late afternoon on a Sunday or in the evening after our crew had cleared out.  Often he’d combine it with other reasons to be in the city, plans with Max or Val, business, or passing through on his way to his escape and photograph on the way to Sea Ranch.  It was kind of an inside joke with Reinhold and I:  if Chip said he’d make it Sterling at 6:00, we knew we would see him at 7:30.  And then when he’d arrive, he’d come in the door all business, finishing up texts and phone calls while saying—I’ll be in and out of here real quick, promise!  Inevitably, though, as we unpacked his prints, and I’d get a scrap piece of mat board for Chip to warm up his signing arm, and we’d inspect the prints before he did, before long, we were sharing about our lives.  Hours sometimes would go by, and in them we shared so much with each other:  confidences about the trials, tribulations, and rewards of our close relationships;  his hopes, dreams, pride in and love for his kids;  our immigration struggles and my activism around them;  art and photography certainly;  and then his cancer diagnosis and how he was living with it, something we as long term HIV survivors felt we could relate to.  Chip, as we all know, was amazing throughout the course of his life with cancer.  In fact, Chip was just amazing throughout his life—so huge and generous and full of heart, brimming with life, dreams, plans for work yet to be done, futures for which to be present.  And to us, he was just extremely genuine and kind.

Even after the stroke, Chip was such a force that I thought if anyone can transcend these challenges, it would be him.  I really believed he would.  His voice and energy resonates with us even now.  What Reinhold and I would give now for a call from him, say, at 8PM on a Sunday night with the update, “Hey, I’m just in San Jose, I should be there in about 45 minutes!  Sorry to keep you waiting!!”  

We miss you so much, Chip, but are so deeply grateful that you graced our lives!