Below is a six-year-old feature our newspapers carried on photographer Tyler Hicks of Westport, one of four New York Times journalists reported missing in Libya.
Myself and a staff photographer spent a few hours with Hicks in New York City. The occasion for the article was his recently published book, “Histories Are Mirrors: The Path of Conflict Through Afghanistan and Iraq.”
During the interview Hicks spoke about the risks of covering combat zones, recounting a close call in Afghanistan in November 2001 that caused him to pause briefly and consider his profession.
But soon he and his camera were back in the middle of the action.
“Once you’re away from it and safe again and look at the photos you took and impact those pictures have, it kind of wears off,” he said.
UPDATE:
Hicks and the four other missing journalists have been found.
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(Kerry Sherck/The Advocate)
By Brian Lockhart
Staff Writer
NEW YORK – Standing at West 114th Street and Amsterdam Avenue beside a slightly lost Tyler Hicks, searching for the office of a weight-loss researcher – Hicks’ assignment for The New York Times – it was hard to envision him as the Pulitzer Prize-nominated photojournalist who risked his life capturing gritty images of the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Stylishly dressed in a tweed jacket and scarf, Hicks looked like he would be more comfortable around Westport, where he grew up, rather than the foxholes, bombed-out villages and mountain trails where he has spent his time since Sept. 11, 2001.
The photo assignment in Manhattan for the Times’ science and business sections was a far cry from images of war-torn Middle Eastern countries collected in his just-published book, “Histories Are Mirrors: The Path of Conflict Through Afghanistan and Iraq.”
“I don’t feel above this kind of stuff. . . . It’s good to come back, regroup, rest and do some different photos,” said Hicks, 35.
For several years, he has immersed himself in regions of poverty and conflict, then returned to his American lifestyle.
“You get to the point where you go back and forth and jump right into your life at home, calling friends, going out, taking a little break,” he said. “You appreciate things more that you have and appreciate more the people around you.”
A graduate of Staples High School, Hicks majored in journalism at Boston University and spent his post-college years in the 1990s as many aspiring photographers do – building a resume through internships and jobs at small daily newspapers.
Landing at the Wilmington Morning Star in North Carolina, Hicks found himself more challenged than in some of the rural areas, where the biggest news was strawberry festivals and county fairs, but longed to join the ranks of international photojournalists.
“I would look at The Associated Press photos on the computer . . . from Africa and the Balkans,” he said. “I felt like I should be in those places, taking those kinds of pictures.”
He took a two-week working vacation to Kosovo to chronicle the conflict between the liberation army and southern Serbs. When he returned, the Morning Star ran a special page of his work, but he was denied a leave of absence to return overseas.
So he quit and went back to Kosovo for a year and a half, Hicks said. His free-lance photos were used by The Associated Press and published in European magazines.
Stints in Chechnya, Kenya and Ethiopia followed. Hicks cultivated a relationship with The New York Times and, in particular, Times reporter Ian Fisher, who contributed an essay on the Iraq war to Hick’s book.
Hours after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, Hicks headed to the smoldering ruins of the World Trade Center to take photos of the search for survivors, then turned his efforts on getting to Afghanistan.
The Bush administration had not yet retaliated against the Taliban regime and the al-Qaida terrorists it harbored, but Hicks saw the clouds of war gathering and the window of opportunity closing.
“There’s a period of time when you can get in, then the borders are closed off,” he said. “I basically just got on a plane and went.”
The shots he captured on the ground in late 2001 were published by the Times and Getty Images.
Photos from the first half of “Histories Are Mirrors” are from Hicks’ time with the Northern Alliance, which supported the U.S. effort to oust the Taliban. He tried to capture post-Taliban life in Afghanistan in and around Kabul.
When he returned to the United States in early 2002, Hicks became a New York Times staffer and was sent to Iraq to cover the buildup to the American invasion.
Much of his book, opening on the ruins of the World Trade Center and moving on to Afghanistan and Iraq, focuses on what Hicks describes as “the people affected by this conflict on their ground.”
“Every one of these countries people fear or are angry with, when you go there there’s normal life going on and good people . . . struggling to dig themselves out of these situations,” Hicks said.
Hicks is careful not to betray any feelings that might lead to questions about his objectivity.
“I can understand both sides.
. . . You have to imagine yourself in their shoes, whoever you’re photographing. It helps you understand the situation more, and the more you understand the situation, the better you are at taking pictures,” Hicks said. “I don’t go to these places as a soldier, a militant, a peace activist or humanitarian worker. My job is to take pictures.”
During a recent slide show at the Westport Public Library, Hicks said that, after spending so much time living among Afghanis and Iraqis, it was difficult when he was imbedded with American troops who bragged about shooting the enemy.
“They talk how ‘it’s cool I blew a kid’s head off.’ It’s hard to go back and forth,” Hicks told the audience. But, after he spent time with the soldiers, he could sympathize with them, too.
He talked about following a platoon that suffered a 15 percent casualty rate during this year’s standoff in Najaf, Iraq.
“If I was working with those guys and was a regular soldier
. . . I don’t know what I’d say” about the enemy, Hicks told the library crowd.
In the Afghanistan section of his book, his photos show the capture, harassment and execution of a wounded Taliban soldier in November 2001. Other photos, taken almost a year later, are of an Afghan bride preparing for her ceremony at a beauty salon, a reopened movie theater and a laughing boy perched on a swing in a crumbling building.
The Iraqi photos begin with an October 2002 rally of men for Saddam Hussein at a Baghdad stadium and a two-page spread of images showing how the dictator’s visage permeated everyday life, from paintings to banners to sculptures to watches – Hicks wears one as a souvenir.
Other images of Iraq show jockeys preparing for a horse race days before the American invasion; bombs falling on Baghdad; Iraqis watching Saddam address the nation from hiding; a boy recovering after his legs were blown off; the charred body of an Iraqi soldier; Iraqis celebrating the arrival of American troops; Iraqi soldiers celebrating the destruction of a U.S. tank; the ruins of Saddam’s palaces; exhumed remains from a mass grave of Saddam’s victims; a photo of a late-night raid by soldiers looking for insurgents; a U.S. soldier peering through a crack in a wall, looking for snipers; others ducking gun fire; a soldier fighting back tears after two of his comrades were killed in Najaf; a crowd of men throwing handfuls of dirt on the casket of Saddam’s son, Mustafa; and an Iraqi boy swimming in a Baghdad fountain.
In an essay for “Histories Are Mirrors,” John F. Burns, the Times’ Baghdad bureau chief, writes about Hicks’ “instinct, coupled with the kind of obsession that so often separates the achievement of excellence from the merely ordinary.”
Burns says that photos Hicks took in October 2002 show Iraqi prisoners being freed from Saddam’s infamous Abu Ghraib prison. One shot shows the body of a prisoner who was crushed in the exodus.
“With men dying before him at the moment of their liberation, Tyler made images that stand as a metaphor for man’s struggle for freedom,” Burns wrote.
Asked whether he came close to being killed, Hicks said, “there were some incidents that I wouldn’t want to repeat again.”
One such incident occurred Nov. 22, 2001, in Afghanistan. He was with Northern Alliance soldiers who were ambushed by Taliban fighters and had to take cover in a trench.
“The soldier next to me peered out to see what was going on. He was shot in the chest, slumped back down and died in front of me and the other soldiers,” Hicks said.
There is a photo in the book of the soldier, Amin, lying against the dirt wall, blood pouring from his mouth, down his beard and onto his camouflage shirt. Hicks and the other soldiers remained under cover for about two hours in the foxhole.
“Your instinct’s to run, but that wasn’t an option. What’s much worse is having to wait and having the time to think. . . . It’s very unsettling,” Hicks said. “That day made me think a lot about the risks we take . . . and made me think maybe I should slow it down.”
But the next day, Hicks immersed himself in the action again.
“Once you’re away from it and safe again and look at the photos you took and impact those pictures have, it kind of wears off,” he said.
Hicks said he never thought much about doing a book because, with the United States mired in Iraq and the country’s future in question, it has no ending.
His publisher, Umbrage Editions, helped him to understand “you don’t have to have an end and this is the time to make sure these pictures are seen.”
The photos, culled from his work for The New York Times and his private archives, are “not only in the newspaper for one day,” he said. “Hopefully, people will pick up this book years from now.”
For the next few months, he will remain in New York City working for the Times and watching events in Iraq. Insurgents have made it too dangerous for photojournalists to work among the people, he said. Instead he must stay with the American military, wrapped in body armor.
He hopes to return soon, even if he must remain with American forces.
“I’ll cover the story on whatever level I can,” Hicks said.
He also is considering turning his lens on the lives of Americans.
“It’s harder to see things in your own country and recognize issues you’re used to,” Hicks said. “I’d like to get more involved in doing those here in the city or in the United States.”
As a box construction/artist,I used a Tyler Hicks Getty photo from the New York Times in 2001 taken of an old woman and an infant in Sherbertoo Afghanistan, in a construction I made in 2002. It is called Afghan Pieta, and had imbedded in the box a miniature music box that winds up and plays Brhams Lullaby.I want to gice Mr. Hicks credit for this amazingly moving photo. People weep when confronted by the picture and the music together behind the shutters of this box.
Thank you. A very powerful interview with Tyler Hicks. I admire his courage and ability to see so clearly both sides of complicated issues. How many of us do that? I hope he will be found alive and well.