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By Steve Maslowski

When Glenn Titus asked me to write about my father for the Legends section of Outdoors Unlimited, I thought it might be a nice chance to cast a bit of flattery on the memory of the ol’ man, deceased in 2006 at age 93. Now, several weeks later, I am still not quite sure what to write. You see, I worked as a wildlife photographer with Dad for many years, and even after he retired saw him almost daily when he came to the office to correspond with friends and attend to minor tasks. Perhaps familiarity dulls even the glow of legends, because in memory Dad is very much more human than hero. Still, if the reader doesn’t mind, I will present a few firsthand, somewhat subjective observations.

Karl Maslowski was the son of an immigrant gardener who died young, leaving Karl to provide for his mother and sister. While working full time, he finished high school at night and taught himself about nature, photography and communication. By his mid-20s, his talents, energy and drive allowed him to become a self-employed wildlife photographer working in both still and motion picture formats. Over the next half-century this self-taught, self-directed man earned accolades including: an honorary doctorate from Miami University of Ohio, the Arthur Allen award from the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology, the Jade of Chiefs award from OWAA and a very large handful of first-place medals in all sorts of competitions for documentary films. In addition, he personally lectured nationwide to an audience estimated at well over a million, including members of the National Geographic and National Audubon societies.

He was an unwitting pioneer in wildlife photography. By chance his career started in the 1930s when color motion picture film first appeared in the commercial market. He often remarked that he would get a standing ovation for a movie if it had “a red bird, a yellow bird and a blue bird all in the same show.” He was the right man at the right time.

The flip side of this was that the world eventually changed beyond Karl’s interests, capabilities or beliefs (I’m not certain which it was). Karl took a lot of still photos with old contraptions like the Speed Graffix and who knows what, and eventually worked his way up to the Hassleblad, using it even before the Apollo moon astronauts employed one to take their astounding photos of Earth. But then 35 mm cameras entered the stage. He refused to use them. Perhaps they just had too many small buttons, or seemed too toy-like after the big things he used. The transition from 16 mm film to video was out of the question.

Karl was a writer, although he had no particular aspirations to be one. He simply had the urge and confidence to communicate (a writer has to have something to say, and a confidence that what he says is of interest to others). He wrote a weekly nature column for the Cincinnati Enquirer for 50 years, invariably composing the 800 words in two hours on Saturday morning using two fingers on an old typewriter with a worn-out ribbon. He was careless with grammar and structure, yet the text jumped off the page with fresh but folksy similes and metaphors.

Karl was indeed part of what Tom Brokaw called The Greatest Generation. When World War II broke out, he was old enough to avoid service but volunteered nonetheless (despite my mother’s protests). After basic training he was stationed in Colorado, where he became impatient over the menial, meaningless tasks assigned to him and wrote to his commanding officer – Ronald Reagan! – requesting a more productive assignment. Off to Europe he went, serving as a combat cameraman. He said his hair turned gray the first time he saw anti-aircraft fire heading his way. Talk of fallen comrades brought tears to his eyes, even years later. Interestingly, Karl quickly forgave the Germans, but never the Japanese. Perhaps this was a hidden barrier to ever using a Nikon.

Karl seemed impervious to the elements. I never knew him to complain about cold feet, cold hands, or cold anything. Even in the worst of weather, he was a tough, tough old horse.

Behind every successful man is a smart woman. My mother knew the nuances of grammar and had a friendship with math, and made it possible for Dad to concentrate on what he did best.  Dad, on the other hand, made a complex project such as creating a documentary seem easy. Perhaps it was for him. He always had something he wanted to say,

Dad was not motivated by ego. He had a genuine concern for and love of wildlife and the out of doors. That is, his vocation was his avocation, too. On workdays he took pictures of wild animals. On days off he hunted and fished.

The fact that he had lots of friends – including many quite a lot younger – provided Dad with a great deal of strength, physically and mentally, that kept him hale, hearty and independent. It seems awards and acclaims are nice, and may linger briefly in memory and history, but other matters ultimately have greater personal importance.

Steve Maslowski is a freelance photographer who works with motion pictures, video and stills. An OWAA member since 1975, Maslowski makes his home in Cincinnati.

Photos: upper right, Karl H. Maslowski; center left, Maslowski in about 1948 (photo by Al Kain); Maslowski in Bulgari, Italy, in February 1944. All photos courtesy of Steve Maslowski.

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By George H. Harrison

For many of you, he wasn’t the household name of most of our OWAA legends. That’s because Clayt Dovey was a quiet and very humble man. Yet, he was a man of enormous achievement, both in our craft and in the service to his country and his community of Johnstown, Pa.

Clayt’s influence on outdoor people ranged far and wide. Though he listened a lot and lectured very little from my observations, his greatest contribution to OWAA was to ask the right questions.

As a longtime member of OWAA and the Pennsyl-vania Outdoors Writers Association, Clayt and his soulmate Adele produced “Clayt and Adele Dovey Outdoors,” a television show on NBC affiliate WJAC (western Pennsylvania) that ran for 20 years. Reportedly, they were the first husband and wife team in the U.S. to film and produce a regularly scheduled outdoor television show on a major television network affiliate. Clayt also wrote an outdoor column for the Johnstown Tribune-Democrat and hosted an outdoor show for WJAC Radio for more than 20 years.

During that time, I remember hearing many wild and woolly stories of the Doveys’ hunting and fishing adventures around the world for the production of these shows. If ever there was a storyteller, it was Clayt Dovey. Like their trip to Cuba as the first outdoor journalists to enter the country under the Castro regime. Whether he embellished them (don’t many of us?), or not, the stories always turned out to be so funny my stomach hurt from laughter.

Many of these great sagas were declassified around a fine dinner table at the best restaurants in each of the OWAA Conference communities, wherever they were located. Three couples, the Doveys, Bashlines and Harrisons, formed “The Royal Order of the Silver Chalice,” complete with silver goblets that we faithfully brought to every conference. Each couple took turns paying for the dinners, which were always outrageously expensive (to stick it to the couple paying). These events were among my greatest memories of OWAA conferences. Each of us tried to outdo the others with the most outrageous tales. Oh, for want of a sound recorder!

Outdoor communication was an avocation for Clayt. He served his country with distinguished honor. In World War II, he flew 75 missions in B-17s and A-20s out of Italy as a bombardier/navigator. Reaching the rank of captain, Clayt received the Distinguished Flying Cross and Air Metal with six Oak Leaf Clusters. He graduated magna cum laude from Gettysburg (Pa.) College, belonged to Phi Kappa Psi fraternity and was a Phi Beta Kappa inductee.

His day jobs included business interests in several corporations, four decades as a bank executive and service to many community charities and foundations. For this, he received numerous community and national awards for business achievement and volunteer service.

Clayt was a cornerstone member of the Professional Outdoor Media Association, inspired by his daughter, Laurie Lee Dovey. “What amazed me about my dad,” Laurie Lee told me, “was his humility. In a world where ego is a big part of our game, Clayt had none,” she said. “I never knew a man more honest, nor with more intellect … I wish I had 1/10th of my dad’s smarts,” she confessed.

Perhaps Clayt Dovey’s greatest asset was his love for life. You could never be around him without immediately recognizing it. There was always a twinkle in his eye. Even after a debilitating stroke, Clayt still fished and hunted with the aid of supports needed to achieve accuracy. His most precious possessions were his family, friends and a series of adorable pug dogs. Because I was one of those friends, I consider myself fortunate to have spent time with, and had my life enriched by, this legend. ◊

George H. Harrison, of Hubertus, Wis., is a freelance writer/photographer and book author. He has received the Ham Brown, Jade of Chiefs and Out-standing Board Member awards since joining OWAA 45 years ago.