Did you see kid, what did I tell you? God is a photographer.
I write it down and I swear I hear the gritty voice of the Skinny Lerke in my head. God is a photographer, he said to himself every time he got some difficult photo. El Flaco had those catchphrases, like a detective from an old series, that made him so, so lovable. “The bird is in the nest”, was for when the character we were waiting for in a guard appeared, and the “I’m going to get you good”, for when he rehearsed a congratulations. In truth, El Flaco was, above all, a kind of character of those that are no longer available, the last samurai of a journalism with steel codes that he had no days or hours when it came to getting news. Until I had that army green vest that was never taken out, the one that photographers used before, that came with a hundred thousand pockets to store lenses for the camera, cigarettes, pens, or to do some mischief. It was quite an experience to see him become a judge and a party, when it occurred to him to judge a tycoon whom he had to photograph as “garca”, and witness his sentence: he would wear some trinket in his impregnable vest as if he were Robin Hood, which he then gave away to the first child he came across.
This is how Lerke lived his 67 years. On the one hand, he was a legend of photojournalism, the only one of his guild who was in El Calafate the day he died. Nestor Kirchner, last to see Jose Luis Cabezas alive, the professional who taught me and so many others the meaning of what we do and how we should do it. But on the other hand, he was -and he never stopped being- a boy who had fun with childish things like stealing a flowerpot, jumping from a helicopter into the sea in Pinamar, joining wagon after wagon to build a train track in his house, walking their dogs, or fall asleep watching Law and Order with Latino dubbing.
Those two sides of his humanity were revealed to me on the first day of my first season on the coast. I was 24 years old and I had to share more than a month in a room with my assigned partner, El Flaco, who was 60 and had 28 seasons under his belt. By that time, I had made some note or coverage with him, but being stuck 24 hours a day – sharing breakfast, lunch, dinner, room, car and work – for more than 30 days was another matter. Deep down, I didn’t know who the photographer was and if I was going to get along or not.
But on the first night that mystery was revealed. It was December 31, 2016, and a kind Pedro Marinovic -at that time just the owner of the inn where we stayed that season, today a friend of both- saw that recently arrived uneven couple with no plans for the night and took pity. He invited us to share New Year’s Eve dinner with his family, even though we had literally just met him. We hadn’t even gotten to the first course when Skinny got up from the table and started a shouting match with some distant relative or friend of Pedro’s. I don’t remember the exact words, but the man made some comment about the deserted wasteland that was Pinamar in the years after the assassination of Cabezas, and the Skinny exploded. He didn’t care about looking bad with the host, who was going to put us up for the whole month, the fact that we were surrounded by people from Pinamares or anything. It had been a very casual comment, with no malicious intent, and most likely anyone would have been distracted, but not Skinny. In that precise moment, watching him defend his position with such passion as he flicked a cigarette out of his vest, he captivated me.
That season, the first of two we shared, was a whirlwind of emotions. It was 20 years since the crime of whoever his partner was, and Lerke was going through the situation. The fact that in that January of 1997 he covered Pinamar for Caras, had been the last to see him alive at the infamous Andreani party. In fact, El Flaco was going to return in Cabezas’ car but since he wanted to stay a while longer in the end, he left in another way. That carambola that ended up saving him by a miracle weighed, two decades later, on his back like an anvil.
That season I saw Skinny tear secretly, and that he was a tough nut to crack who had raised six children with an early widowhood in tow. El Flaco was a damn professional, but this subject was beyond him. “As long as I’m alive I’m going to chase them”he said about the murderers of Cabezas.
That is why El Flaco did not hesitate to fully push the pedal – in addition to being a great photographer, he had a past as a clandestine pilot that he brought up when necessary – when he escaped us alberto gomez. “La Liebre” was the commissioner who cleared the area for the Cabezas crime, and we had received the information that, twenty years later, he was resting in a family house in Valeria del Mar. After a week on guard duty, being Every day eight hours in a car under the coastal sun, Gomez left home in a car with several passengers. Or so we thought: it was a distraction maneuver by the family, who had seen us, while the retired policeman escaped to the other side. When Lerke – always Lerke – realized the trick, he stepped on the accelerator as if he were a formula one driver. He swore that we exceeded 200 kilometers per hour, while dodging cars left and right. If we don’t kill each other, it’s because Skinny was right about God’s true profession. “Did you see kid, what did I tell you?” He sentenced after Gómez accepted an interview – the only one he gave since 1997, which was later distinguished by Adepa – as long as we stopped harassing him at the door of his house.
There are a thousand more anecdotes with El Flaco, as have all those who were lucky enough to work with him. Gabriel Michi remember one, from when they were persecuting the then president Menem in Pinamar. Lerke, in the adrenaline rush of the moment, lost the keys to the car that the Editorial had rented. But nothing stopped Skinny when it came to taking a photo, and con the camera broke the car door and then the dashboardand started the car playing with the cables, like in the movies.
Mariana Abiuso shared another. They found a character they were looking for, but in a delicate and complex circumstance for the protagonist of the note. When she appeared, Skinny triggered her camera, but the girl’s father, who happened to be present, pounced on Lerke and Abiuso. He pushed her, and he punched Skinny in the face. When the photographer recovered, he looked at the journalist very seriously and forbade her to tell about the attack. “We have the photo, ready. If we count that he hit us, the note will be that, and the guy is the father ”, Told him. He abiuso tells that this was the first thing that Flaco taught him, but not the only one.
#ChauFlacoLerke pic.twitter.com/6nX9qB6hU7
— Marina Abiuso (@mabiuso) December 27, 2022
The last time I saw him, in his hospital bed, El Flaco captivated me again. On the window, next to you, Lerke had stacked up old ARGRA credentials of histhe association of photojournalists, along with photos with his family.
We lost that guy today. A photographer who was a teacher for several generations, but also a close friend. We are going to miss you very much, dear Flaquito. Oh, and if you were right in one of those, take a selfie with God. Then you show it to me.
