Last week we buried one of my best friends.

Ken and I travelled together for the better part of two and a half years attending photography conventions and seminars all over the US. We spent countless hours talking while driving, sitting in a roadside diner, or late at night in a motel room somewhere along the way. 
We talked about everything; life, photography, relationships, our children, our toys.  Ken never shared the secrets behind his magic tricks with me saying “a good magician never gives himself up”.

A lot of our time on the road doubled as photo safaris where we’d find an old truck in a barn, a lighthouse, a grumpy old fisherman willing to let us take his picture. We spent hours sitting at the computer working up photographs we’d taken.

He’d tell me stories of hanging out of the back of a C-130 over Vietnam at night dropping flares to light up the countryside for the bombers that would follow. He told me of the accidental fire they’d started by dropping a flare onto a Vietnamese family’s grass hut, an event memorialized by painting a small grass hut on the side of their plane.

He told me of the huge explosion and fire set off by Viet Cong fighters that sneaked onto the air base in the jungle that destroyed two Air Force planes….just yards from the tent where he was sleeping.
He talked about working days on the Base in Germany, while working nights in a bowling alley for extra income for his family. We talked about the enormous heartbreak he endured when his first marriage ended, and the joy of meeting Sally and the romance and courtship that followed.

His job in the Air Force was to repair jet engines for B-52’s and P-80 Shooting Stars. Eventually, years of exposure to jet fuel on his hands forced the military to re-train him to work on landing guidance systems…a job he much preferred.

Ken would use his military credentials to get us onto bases all over to shoot the airplanes.  He would cover me so I could get a photograph not allowed by the military. We kept our hands on the dials of the camera when we were shooting in a prohibited area. Our plan was to quickly delete the photos if we were ever accosted by the military police if they ever appeared.

I have a few favorite memories from our travels:

We once spotted shrimp and oyster boats coming into port with the day’s catch, just as we were driving by.
Never knowing a stranger, Ken approached the rag tag crew of an oyster boat to inquire about trying an oyster “fresh off the boat”. The crew happily obliged. They even had hot sauce and crackers handy. I watched in amazement as Ken swallowed a raw oyster given to him by a rough character neither of us had ever met!

One time, we stopped for gas at a downtown gas station in a large city. As I gassed up the truck, Ken spotted a homeless man loading up the basket of his bicycle with aluminum cans. The bike was colorfully decorated with lot of items the man had found here and there.
Ken asked the man if he could ride his bicycle. Fearful of strangers, the man needed persuading, so Ken put the bite on him. Ken’s newfound friend finally agreed and before you knew it, Ken was riding up and down a busy metropolitan street on a bike adorned with flags, with front and rear baskets full of cans.

I vividly remember Ken’s reaction at finding Arbor Mist wine for $3 a bottle at a convenience store in a city while we took a break from the road. Ken promptly stocked up with several bottles. The cashier bagged our purchase in plastic bags. Later that day, we checked into the swanky hotel where we’d be attending the convention the following day.

While strolling through this obviously pricey hotel, Ken’s plastic bag containing his wine ripped open, which sent two bottles of Mist crashing to the lobby floor amidst shocked guests checking in.

I heard the crash from the elevator, and quickly pressed the floor button to close the doors, in an attempt to conceal my involvement with the wine accident. Later, in the room, Ken asked me why I didn’t stop to help. I feigned ignorance, telling him I didn’t see or hear crash that everyone else seemly heard. 

We had BBQ in Kansas City, spaghetti in Oklahoma City, saw Elvis in Memphis, had baked potatoes in Tupelo, burgers in Littlerock.

Rarely does a person like Ken come into your life.  They say friends are forever. I know that firsthand to be true.

-Mark

Kenneth Larry Strouth, 72, of Lubbock, died  Wednesday, July 9, 2008.  Ken was born on Jan. 27, 1937, in Dayton, Ohio, to William Walter and Dora (Hurt) Strouth.  Upon graduation from Rosevelt High School he joined the United States Air Force.  Ken served our country during Vietnam and the Korean Conflict.  Master Sergeant Strouth retired from Reese Air Force Base after 24 years of service. 

Having an interest in photography, for the next 28 years, Ken owned and operated Accent Photography.  He married Joyce B. Nall on July 7, 1979, in Lubbock. 

Ken loved to entertain people of all ages and spent many hours as "Snapshot" the clown.  He appeared with Joyce on her daytime children's TV show, the Sunshine Sally Show.  Snapshot was also the guest of honor at many children's birthday parties and church Vacation Bible Schools. 

Ken and Joyce loved to travel and spent many hours touring across the United States and into Canada on their motorcycle.  Also enjoying spending time in Ruidoso, N.M., Ken fished, golfed and played pool with a group of men that he named the "Sharp Shooters".  

Ken was a 32nd degree mason and also a member of the South Plains Photographers Association, where he also served as past president, Southcrest Baptist Church, South Plains Drifters, Hub City Wheels, Red Raider Road Riders and Lubbock Business Association.

Those family members left to cherish Ken's memories are his wife, Joyce; three children, Pamela Hankins and husband Chris of Escondido, Calif., Larry Kenneth Strouth of Durango, Colo., and Julie Aylor and husband L.T. of Arlington; a sister, Alyce Blumenstock of Dayton, Ohio; and a brother, Bob Strouth of Kitchner, Canada; 10 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren. Ken was preceded in death by two brothers.

Family and friends gathered to honor Ken, July 11, 2008 at Lake Ridge Chapel in Lubbock, Texas with the Rev. David Wilson officiating.  Masonic graveside with military honors followed in Resthaven Memorial Park.

The family suggests memorials to Vista Care Hospice, 1717 Norfolk Ave. #A, Lubbock, Tx. 79416.