MARK CURRY

Los Angeles International Airport

Los Angeles, CA

October 26, 2000

Photo credit: Mark Curry

It was about 9:20 on a Thursday night at the United terminal at LAX. I was headed to Vegas, but my plane was delayed and a friend was waiting with me at the gate. (This was pre-9/11, when people did that sort of thing.)

We were people-watching to pass the time, convinced that someone we knew would eventually walk by. Within minutes, an airport shuttle cart drove up and stopped right in front of us. Actor and comedian Mark Curry, from the 90’s sitcom Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper, stepped off. He was tall, dressed in all black, and wearing sunglasses—looking like a big shot. He hurried toward his gate, so I didn’t follow.

But he came back. This time, he was headed toward the escalator going down. I grabbed my camera and, as he passed, I politely said, “Excuse me.”

He flippantly waved his hand above his head without looking at me, said, “Hi,” to the air, and after a few more steps, he started down the escalator. It felt dismissive, so I let him go. I have standards.

Once on the escalator, however, he turned around and waved me over to follow him. I happily rushed over and down the escalator stairs to meet him. Over his shoulder and not looking at me, he asked my name. “Rebecca,” I said, and started my pitch. “So, this is a little weird, but I have this celebrity photo album…” He still wasn’t looking at me. “It’s just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities.” I touched his shoulder, hoping to break his aloof composure. “Will you take my picture?” I asked. The guy in front of him started to laugh, and I could see Mark replay my comment in his mind.

“Wait, you want me to take a picture of you?” he asked. He immediately came alive, made eye contact, and said, “Okay! Cool!! I’ve never heard that before.” 

Once we reached the ground floor, I handed him my camera. He glanced around our bland location, scouting for a good scene, and then he said, “How about over here by the baggage claim sign?” “Whatever you think,” I said. “You’re the artist.” That taunted him to get more creative. He looked around, then said, “Oh, or there. Get up there,” pointing to the area between the two escalators. Jumping up was a challenge, as both of the handrails I was using to stabilize myself were in motion. My hands were constantly being thrust forward, so it took a couple of tries, but I made it.

He took the photo, and I hopped down, but he wasn’t finished. “Run back up the escalator,” he directed. But as we walked closer to scout the new location, he dropped my 35mm camera. “Oh! I’m sorry,” he said. As I picked it up, we both saw that the back had opened slightly. We discussed how the film may have been exposed, but he encouragingly said, “Well, it didn’t open too much.” I closed the camera, hoping just one of these pictures would survive, but in my head, I reasoned that either way, it is all part of the story.

I handed the camera back to my director and ran up the escalator until he yelled, “There! Now! Turn around.” I turned around and casually rode back down while he snapped a photo.

A woman followed me off the escalator and kindly asked, “Would you like me to take a picture of the two of you?” “No. She just wants me to take one of her,” he laughed.

Then he leaned in and whispered, “I got her in the shot, too.” So sneaky, Mr. Curry.

I thanked him, and we started to head to our respective gates, but I quickly realized I didn’t know how to get back upstairs. Once stoic, this kind, playful man spent a few minutes helping me find an elevator. I thanked him again, and we continued our separate ways.

That’s the most fun I’ve ever had in an airport.

Days later, after I picked up the film from the developer, I was happy to find the first photo, but the second was missing. “It was an overexposed negative,” the tech said. I asked him to please print it anyway—and make two copies.

These accidental, colorful photos say more about the moment than anything we could have planned. So grateful you made time for some pre-flight folly, Mark. Thanks for hangin’ with me!

Overexposed negative credit: Mark Curry