It just occurred to me that it was fifty years ago this morning that Edward Weston died.
Brett, my father, and I had returned from a photo trip the night before and were at my family home in Berkeley. Having been away for a week, Brett called down to Carmel to check on his dad. His brother Chandler answered the phone and gave the sad news; Edward had passed away half an hour earlier.
I remember the day vividly, as Brett's friends from the Berkeley area dropped by to pay their respects. And, the next morning at 4:00, Brett was on his way home to Carmel.
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