The Story

In the mid 70’s, rumors of an alleged affair between broadcaster Barbara Walters and then Senator, Edward Brooke were flying around the Nation’s Capitol. These stories were, as far as anyone could prove, merely rumors. Though these rumors were well circulated and it was considered ‘common knowledge’ there was no hard evidence.

A Washington restaurant, “Los Gitanos” (The Gypsies) offered exceptional, traditional Spanish food, delightful Flamenco entertainment, a great ‘hangout’ bar and a convenient but obscure location. Partly due to the out of the way location, in the basement of a residential hotel in Georgetown, the dark, romantic restaurant became a popular after work and evening destination for politicos and the diplomatic and finance communities. It also attracted a variety of “spooks” gathering intel for any of two dozen countries from Iran to Venezuela.

I was friends with the owners and took on the task of maintaining the photographs on their “Wall of Fame,” in the entry foyer.

With a patron’s permission I would shoot a few candids of them and/or their party and the (cheaply) framed prints went up on the wall the next evening. When the patron made a return visit they could see their photo on the wall and if they wanted, take it home when they departed. Most people were delighted, some were shy and others politely refused, after all, this was a place where a lot of people went to ‘not’ be seen.

I always honored these requests, and the privacy of the patrons.

One evening I was operating primarily on autopilot, moving among tables, asking, shooting and moving on. I didn’t quite connect who I was looking at when I started with my “good evening, if you would like a photograph …” spiel at their table..

I not only received an impolite refusal, I got a ‘dressing down’ from Ms. Walters that I carry with me to this day. It wasn’t just a polite no, it was spat out through gritted teeth. It was emphatic and angry, bordering on vicious and not just a little scary. It’s probably a contributing factor in my choice not to pursue a life among the paparazzi.

Like most recalcitrant children, however, you should never tell me no, it just makes me more determined. Out came the long lens and I got my shot(s) from across the room.

Here’s where the ethical dilemma horned in. I was free to use any of the images that I took for the restaurant in whatever manner I chose. I also knew that I had, probably the only existing ‘documentation’ that could turn rumors and speculation into fact. If I ever had a “National Enquirer” moment, this was it.

Regina Vega, one of the owners, a client, and friend, asked me to please keep it quiet for the good of their business, specifically, her word to those patrons whom I mentioned would rather remain invisible.

Being an honorable person, I did so.

The ‘story’ eventually stopped being a story, and Los Gitanos is, alas, no more.

Dear Ms. Walters and Sen. Brooke — You’re Welcome

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