Thirty years ago, I met Russell Autrey, and that friendship has brought me laughter, insight and opportunity.

My husband was transferred to the Houston area, and we settled in Pecan Grove. Our eldest was in third grade, and someone told me Nick’s picture was on the front page of the local newspaper, The Herald-Coaster.

I found the address of the office and headed to Rosenberg to purchase a few copies. Sure enough, there was a beautiful picture of Nick on the front, in color, as he attended an outdoor program.

The photographer’s name was Russell Autrey. I’d run into him from time to time, and Russell was friendly and remembered my name.

When our youngest started school, I joined this newspaper, and that’s where this 30-year friendship with one of the best photographers in the state of Texas began.

Early in the mornings, Russell would Photoshop pictures, sipping on coffee, while I sorted mail next to him. While he worked, he shared stories about the places he’d been and the people he’d met. He’d also share tips on how to take better photos.

He’d drain his coffee cup and head out the door. In an hour, he’d come back with a beautiful picture for that day’s newspaper.

Sometimes it was of happy children at school. Other times, he’d capture people as they were getting ready for work or going about the business of life. But he got a picture every single day without fail.

Every once in a while, we’d come up with an off-beat idea and, together, compile an interesting feature, complete with Russell’s fabulous photos.

Then I traded a newspaper career for a teaching one, and Russell and his wife, Kathy, moved to the Bolivar Peninsula. I kept up with Russell through his gorgeous photographs on Facebook, his pen-and-ink drawings and his creative children’s books.

Last year, he called and said he wanted to publish a book to benefit the historic lighthouse on the peninsula. The lighthouse is in dire need of repair, and the families that own it established a foundation to restore the magnificent structure.

Russell had five years’ worth of photos to fill the book, but he needed stories. He asked me to team up with him again. We decided to interview people who grew up on the peninsula or who had fond memories of the lighthouse.

Our biggest hurdle was the pandemic. People weren’t going out in public, and that included me. I’d retired, and the plans I had for volunteering and traveling had evaporated. I’d become a hermit and because of the isolation, I’d lost a bit of self-confidence.

Russell wouldn’t take “no” for an answer and insisted we write the book together. I called the people Russell told me to call, and they were so talkative and friendly, I found myself looking forward to interviewing more people.

Months after starting, Russell’s idea became a reality. The lighthouse’s non-profit foundation hosted a book signing on the grounds of the lighthouse recently to celebrate the book’s publication.

As we signed books, Russell visited with every single person. His genuine friendliness put everyone at ease, and he had a story and warm welcome for all.

He saw the importance in that lighthouse, her history and her hidden beauty. That’s the secret of why Russell is so loved by so many – he not only sees the beauty in an ordinary scene, he sees the “special” in an ordinary day, an ordinary bird and especially in ordinary people like me.

Thank you, buddy, for getting me out of my pajama pants and back on the highway of life.

So, when do we start book 2?

This column was originally published in  The Fort Bend Herald.