Two guerrilla fighters in their hideout in the mountains of Morazon province, El Slavador, 1980
"The reason that so many photographers loved Jocelyne is that she loved photographers. They were her heroes (sometimes but temporarily the fallen kind) and she was their champion. This made it so much easier to work with her than any other agent I ever had because she understood the hurdles that we often encountered. I remember coming back from a job in Canada. As I threw my bags onto my bed the phone rang - this was before cell phones - and it was Jocelyne telling me to get a cab back to the airport to cover a developing story in Bogota, Colombia. Because she knew what a pain in the neck that was, and how tired I would be, I willingly did it.
But my fondest memory of her was when I was an editor, or more accurately when I wasn't an editor. I had just been fired from Life Magazine, and one of the things being fired gives you is a sharply focused realization as to who your friends are Ð and who they aren't. She called me up almost immediately and invited me to dinner, "Just the two of us Ð we'll talk about old times." I arrived at the door of her apartment on 77th Street, which still had pinned to it the drawing of her cat Mattina that I had done many years before. The door opened, and inside was a group of about twenty people, most of them photographers, all welcoming me, each photographer giving me a print of their work. She had organized this as a way of saying to me "even though you feel wretched now, you are still a part of our community." For that alone I will always love her."