When I was in the newspaper business I took pride in my photography. I could shoot traffic accident scenes, county fair animals, kids at play and football games; even decent mug shots. But I never mastered portraiture.

Several of my friends and acquaintances are professional photographers and create excellent portraits. Four of them post some of their work on Facebook.

This is the season for high school senior portraits and I am amazed at the quality and creativity of these photographers’ work. Numerous changes of wardrobe, multiple backgrounds, various poses; their photographs are works of art.

What a change from the 1960s!

I attended a small, rural (three small towns) high school and was one of 42 graduates in the Class of 1966. A professional photographer in an adjacent county seat town took school yearbook photos in exchange for the seniors having their photographs made at his studio. This photographer was one of the best in the area so this was a win-win situation for everyone.

Someone set a date — a Saturday — when my classmates gathered at the photo studio to have our portraits made.

Unlike today’s multiple wardrobes and poses, I had one sitting of several similar head and shoulder shots. This was in the day of black-and-white photos; any color prints had to be hand-painted with translucent colors. I wore a plaid sport coat, a white shirt and a very narrow mid-1960s tie for my poses.

This was also in the age of hair tonic and hair creams and I had slicked down my still thick hair with Brylcreem, the “a Little Dab’ll Do Ya!” stuff that hinted at — but never delivered — a good-looking gal with each tube.

It was an exciting day when the proofs arrived at school and we took them home for anxious mothers to view. I am the oldest of six kids so senior photo stuff was new for my parents.

We selected one pose for all the prints we ordered. Then we waited again. Finally, the finished photos arrived and we took them home to admiring parents.

The largest (and only colored) portrait we ordered was an 8×10. With six kids in the family my mother probably figured that beyond the expense she didn’t have enough wall space to hang larger portraits of her entire brood.

Mom had already purchased a frame and proudly (I hope) hung my 8×10 senior portrait on the living room wall.

At this time in my life I was suffering from a bad case of acne. Most teens from our small towns didn’t see dermatologists for facial blemishes in those days. The only medication I recall using was a tube of Clearasil to cover up the major zits.

Back in the days before Photoshop professional photographers retouched negatives the old (and more difficult) way. In my case, the touch-up work involved zit removal. If I must say so myself, the absence of pimples did improve my appearance.

A short time after my mother hung my new senior photo on the wall my baby sister, then about three-years-old, strolled into the living room.

After examining the new portrait on the wall, Baby Sister said, “Your new picture is pretty… but you’re not.”

When you grow up in a six-kid family you develop a thick skin. Baby sister’s reaction was blunt but accurate. No offense was taken but I have never let her forget how “my heart was broken” by her comment.

Over the next 14 years Mom’s living room wall prominently displayed five more senior pictures. These were replaced when grandchildren came along.

After our mother passed away three years ago, my siblings and I gathered to empty her house and we discovered that Mom had carefully tucked away each of those senior photos.

I admire the creativity of the modern photographers who have given so much more life to senior portraits. Years from now today’s graduates will be able to look back and see their high school lives from several different perspectives.

My now 56-year-old senior portrait reminds me of that often-worn plaid sport coat, white shirt and narrow tie and of how thick and slick my hair was back then.