10-4 Magazine - For Today's Trucker

SAYING GOOD-BYE TO
STAN HOLTZMAN

PHOTOGRAPHER ~ AUTHOR ~ HISTORIAN ~ FRIEND

Saying “good-bye” is never easy. A few weeks ago, we had to say good-bye to Stan Holtzman after he passed away on November 5th, 2005 of complications from the many ailments he was struggling with. For almost seven years, Stan provided us with the monthly column “What Ever Happened To,” which highlighted what he loved – old trucks and the stories behind them. In fact, his whole life was dedicated to old trucks and the truckers that drove them.

Stan’s love of trucks can be traced all the way back to the 1950s when Montebello was the trucking hub of Southern California. Born and raised in East Los Angeles, at a time when trains and planes were on every child’s mind, Stan was the odd kid who liked trucks. At the early age of 12 years old, Stan would ride his bicycle all over Los Angeles taking pictures of trucks with his Kodak Brownie 620 camera. Of course, his talent and equipment improved over the years, which led him to write articles for magazines and publish four coffee-table picture books featuring trucks (old and new).

If it weren’t for a near-death accident in 1964 that left him unable to drive a big rig, Stan would have been a truck driver – and a damn good one, too! Stan settled for the title “Photographer” and lived his trucking life vicariously through all his trucking friends and his pictures. Donning his signature brown Fedora hat (which he wore partly to cover scars on his head but mostly because he thought it made him look like a cool movie star from the 1940s), Stan always marched to a different drummer. Over the years he was a truck salesman, a traffic cop, a security guard and a bus driver – but these were just “jobs” that enabled him to continue taking pictures.

If a truck rolled into town that Stan wanted to get a picture of, he’d drop everything (work included) to get the shot. And if the truck wasn’t just the way he wanted it, he would either make it so or not take the picture at all. He rarely ever shot a truck without a trailer or a load, and always made sure to “trim out” the windshield frame with chrome tape. He also liked to add a thin, tape pinstripe around the outside lip of the front fenders to help accentuate the edge. And if a truck wasn’t clean enough, Stan got out a bucket and hose and started washing it himself. Cattle trucks were his favorite, because they combined the Old West cowboys with modern technology. Many of his friends were (and some still are) bull haulers. Any time he got the chance to “ride along” with a bull hauler, he took it.

But even after all those years and after all that dedication and hard work, Stan was really never recognized for his efforts (the great ones rarely are). As odd as it sounds, Stan’s honesty and integrity cost him many jobs and major commercial photo accounts. He just refused to conform to a lying, cheating world. Plain and simple, it was the principle of the matter. If you wronged him, you were forever shunned and photos of your truck would never appear in any of his books or articles. But if he liked you and trusted you, you had a great friend who would do anything for you.

Stan was happily married for over 30 years until the love of his life, Marsha, passed away three years ago. Stan was devastated. He lived in a dark cloud for almost a year. But then he emerged and had a new-found excitement for his work again. Unfortunately, that is about the time his medical challenges began, and they only escalated from there. But, surprisingly, he fought hard to overcome these challenges and kept a pretty positive attitude all the while.

On March 8, 2004, Stan sent me a letter. I was surprised to find that he had written a poem about himself and wanted me to hold on to it and then print it after he died. In the letter he wrote: “I was lying in bed last week when this poem hit my mind. I quickly wrote it down before I forgot it. I don’t have any premonition of my impending demise, but I always say, tomorrow is promised to no one.” After reading the poem (and feeling a bit disturbed about the whole thing) I filed it away in my “Stan Holtzman Stuff” folder and tried to forget about it. Things like this are hard to accept, but after his passing, I felt so blessed that he had entrusted his Epitaph to me – that told me a lot about what Stan thought of our friendship.

At his memorial service, many people from the trucking industry came to pay their final respects, along with many family members whom most of us had never met. The funny thing was, Stan’s family had no idea of the popularity and love that the trucking industry had for him, and his trucking buddies had no idea that he had so many family members that also loved him so dearly. But that’s how Stan was – a very private person living a very public life.

I was honored to have read Stan’s Epitaph at his memorial service, which no one even knew existed. It’s a rare treat when someone leaves behind their own words, and this was no exception. After reading the poem, I asked those in attendance to jot down any thoughts they had about Stan, as I might use them in this tribute. Many did, but when I got back to the office, I was overwhelmed with letters, faxes and e-mails from people wanting to say their final respects. So, for the rest of this tribute, I will print excerpts from some of the many letters I received. Thank you to all that took the time to send me your thoughts. Somewhere, right now, Stan is looking down on us all and saying, “Finally, I get some respect! It took you guys long enough!” But that’s just Stan. ~ Daniel Linss

• In 1967, I learned that trucks have beauty, history and personality. And like fine wine, trucks improve with age. In 1967, I learned that trucking can be noble. Owners, drivers, manufacturers and their dealers should strive for nobility. To betray this charge, the otherwise Kings of the Highway will fade into the junk pile of history. In 1967, I met Stan Holtzman. ~ Bill Mortimer

• Stan was one of the primary instigators in the creation of Old Time Trucks magazine. He repeatedly said, “Start your own magazine!! I’ll help.” When I did, Stan enthusiastically put his pictures where his mouth was and contributed photos and articles for almost every issue. He was not only a great truck photographer, he was also a good friend. We will miss him dreadfully. ~ Shirley Sponholtz

• “What you saw was what you got.” Stan was a free spirit who was liked and loved by all who knew him. ~ Howard Holtzman

• “Stanley” was a true legend in our time. Thanks for 45 years of countless pictures and priceless memories. From Grimes Canyon to The Grapevine, we will cherish all the laughter and smiles that we shared together as friends and “family.” Thank you for dedicating your life to something we all love - trucks! ~ The Berg Family

• Stan was the true definition of a one-of-a-kind individual. He was unique in every possible way and absolutely wonderful in every way. It’s nice to know he had so many friends through his longtime love affair with trucks. When Stan lost his beloved wife Marsha, all the rest of us lost Stan. Through the huge legacy he left behind, we’ll all have him forever. ~ Marsha Conrad (Stan’s sister)

• Even knowing all the health challenges Stan had been facing, I still found it hard to except the news of his passing. We have always touched bases to discuss all the important matters pertaining to the world of bull hauling. Our conversations often required hip-boots, even when we were on the phone. Try reminiscing about the who, when and the where’s of the old bull haulers, and if you can absorb all that history and come out “smelling like a rose” instead of a bucket full of “male bovine exhaust residue” (as Stan liked to call it), then you drank your coffee further uptown then we did! Stan has documented the history of western trucking through the lens of his camera, preserving the time when trucking was mostly blood, sweat and tears. Nothing too fancy, just equipment needed to get the job done. Thanks Stan, for paving the way. ~ Jim Rowe

• To say that Stan was interested in trucks would be a huge understatement. He loved old cars, hearses and ambulances and saw beauty in rust. Stan received many awards for his work but none could be found around his home. He had offers from galleries to show his work but he generally shied away from the spotlight. Stan spoke words in pictures. Photography takes an instant out of time and holds it still, never to be replaced. Stan will never be replaced, and may he be infamous for eternity. ~ Rudy Peyakov

• Uncle Stan has provided me with so many wonderful memories, but the best is his ability to make me laugh. Everyone I introduced him to - of which had nothing to do with the trucking industry - all responded the same: they loved his humor and fearlessness to speak from his core. My last few memories of Uncle Stan included having him over to our home earlier this year with barbeque ribs in tow, and meeting up with him at his place. We would just hang out and often go to dinner at Sir George’s Smorgasbord in Arcadia - where, you guessed it, Uncle Stan loaded up on those ribs! And while I missed saying goodbye to Uncle Stan by just 20 minutes, when I arrived he was laying so peacefully. I knew he was free of his body and the problems it dealt him. I like to think he was greeted by the two souls he was deeply devoted to - his forever soulmate and wife (my aunt) Marsha and his beloved cat Schmutzy. ~ Liz Wilson

• When I found out that Stan had passed, I burst out in tears, and have been hardly unable to stop since. I don’t know if they are for him or me. My co-workers keep stopping and starring at this old man crying for what seems to be no reason at all. I’ve even heard them ask, “Is he drunk?” I am so blessed to have run in the wind with Stan Holtzman for all of these years! He shall always be here in what’s left of my heart - he meant that much to me. And yes, I told him that I loved him, and that all those who knew him and of him, did as well - just for being him. He’ll never walk alone. ~ Philip Wolff