Golden Camera Man

By Michael Bromka

In Carlsbad, Newell Crouch was known as “The Man with the Golden Camera.” Locals stopped by his studio to see a gold-plated camera, then on impulse got their picture taken. In the studio, he offered an array of backdrops. At his home on Beta Street there were landscaped settings. Gold was a gimmick, but his service and skills were real.

The name “Newell” is uncommon. “I don’t know,” he said. “Blame my mother. It’s a doorpost, and I’ve lived up to it. In Texas, I spent my earliest years in towns arrayed near Lubbock. I was born in New Home, bathed in Sweetwater, and dressed in Plainview. At age nine, I moved with my folks to Artesia for my schooling.

“After graduating, I worked at J.C. Penny’s. The Korean Conflict erupted. Basic training at Fort Lewis, WA, might’ve had me next embark for Korea,” he said.

“But Russian staging rescripted my future. In East Germany, the U.S.S.R. was sniffing toward invasion. America sent men to ward against—Company D of the 4th Engineers. Their mission was to wire Rhine River crossings with explosives. If the Russians rolled westward, they would blow all those bridges.

I volunteered as a cook. The Army trained me in Fort Benning, GA. Within nine months, I rose from buck private to staff sergeant.”

From her home in Carlsbad, Newell’s fiancée Leota wrote to him every day. He reciprocated thrice weekly. Another NCO took note and said, “You don’t smoke, drink, or chase women? Hah! You virtue boys always end up the wildest before long.” Close to the end of his hitch, however, he apologized to Newell.

“You stuck true to your values, and I respect that.”

Newell mustered out of the Army and married Leota. Via the G.I. Bill, he enrolled at Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara, CA, to study photography. Leota worked full-time for an accountant. Nightly after classes, he worked in a burger joint. They spelled each other caring for their infant son, Jerrel.

“We were poor but didn’t know it. You don’t miss what you’ve never had. We were rich in love,” he said.

Brooks required each student to buy a sophisticated camera and a tripod. “In other programs across America, students shared limited equipment. Mostly, they made do with book learning. Our professors—famous auteurs—had us learning hands-on.”

After two years in Santa Barbara, Newell and Leota moved to Carlsbad. She kept working in accounting and passed her state CPA exam. Newell opened his first studio on Church Street across from what’s now P.R. Leyva. Within two years, he moved to a bigger studio on South Canyon Street.

Newell wasn’t well known like his studio rivals, Bob Nymeyer and Dale Sedrick. He caught up by artistic finesse, costuming, and staging. He bought sundry sizes of cap-and-gowns. He had both indoor and outdoor settings.

In the backyard of his Beta Street home were roses, tulips, and a variety of bright flowers. Newell had aged wood, a wagon wheel, and hay bales simulating a ranch or farm. An eight-foot-tall tableau of lava rock trickled water to a small blue pool, as in the South Pacific. Wrought iron plus garden furniture suggested a royal estate.

CHS seniors flocked to have their portraits made. Late in his working life, Newell’s photos filled 70 percent of the CHS yearbook. His rivals split the leftovers.

By then, Newell had been elected NM State President of the Professional Photographers of America. He organized a statewide convention in Carlsbad, with a day set aside for a tour of Carlsbad Caverns. When a famous keynote speaker flew in, the Rotary plus Chamber of Commerce rolled out a red carpet flanked by gold-jacketed greeters. She was bedazzled. Never had she enjoyed such an enthusiastic convention!

Newell’s life suffered four crushing setbacks. First, his and Leota’s son—then in his thirties—died of cancer. After 42 years of marriage, Leota succumbed to cancer too. Known as a devoted husband, Newell eventually met and wed his second wife, widow Marcella Pierce McLin.

She owned a modest home on Orchard Lane. Looking to combine households on Beta Street, they moved their joint furniture and goods into that house and the garage.

They also bought a fifth-wheel trailer and towed it to Brantley Lake for a camping “shakedown.” That night, vandals burned down their Beta Street home. Newell’s lifelong Bible study led him to contemplate Job in the Old Testament.

Forging onward, Newell resettled into Marcella’s home, with long summer stretches at lovely Priest Gulch Campground in Colorado.

Upon their arrival, they found its population oddly divided into two rival cliques. Over time, Newell used his cooking skills to coaxingly dissolve disunity. Whether over Belgian waffles for breakfast or filet mignon at supper, Newell and Marcella hosted selected invitees of both cliques to meals they prepared at their own expense. Always a prayer of thanks and contrition reminded guests what they all had in common. Rancor gave way to camaraderie.

Newell had 15 years of marital bliss with Marcella before she too died of cancer. Now his contemplation of Job returned. At age 97, he has cochlear implants to enhance hearing. He no longer drives. But he continues to marvel at the joy he has felt, often with the help of others.

SE NM Veterans Transport Network has delivered him to medical appointments in Artesia, Roswell, Lubbock, and Albuquerque.

“Always, they are cordial and professional. They carry us vets, asking no pay. I’m so grateful for their help!”

The program needs volunteer drivers with clean safety records. Please phone Nobert Rempe at 575 361-0175 to learn more.

If cajoled, Newell Crouch will recite by heart from the Gospel of Matthew. Even at age 97, Newell yearns to serve God. He knows that despite devastating setbacks, he’s been made whole again and again.

“Lord, just like Job, I give thanks and ask to continue to serve. You’ve brought me back over and over. I’m grateful for how you’ve restored me. So, let’s hold off on the 6,000 camels. Your generosity and grace suffice.