For Tom and everyone who loved him, http://speedonthewater.com/commentar...-wire-act.html.

I can't believe that was 5 years ago.

Matt
Great story as always. Tom took some amazing pics over the years. If memory serves me,didn't an assistant of Tom's also get killed that day? Nice tribute!

The other person who died in the crash that day was a videographer named Mark Copeland. It was his first day on the job. He was so new, in fact, that almost none of the Powerboat magazine crew got to meet him.

I never met Mark Copeland, but I will never forget spending time with Tom Newby. Aside from his obvious photographic skills, he was a terrific guy.

R.i.p

I traveled on assignments with Tom a bunch. He had this rule for the road: We never hide in in our hotel rooms on a "down" day. We do whatever is cool to do in the area, especially if it's something we can't do at home in California. Down day in Panama City, we chartered a boat and caught our limits of kingfish. (We gave them to the deckhands.) Down day in Malta, Tom, Vicki and I headed out to see the ruins at Hagar Qim, a temple built in 2,700 B.C. Find the best sushi in Sarasota. Play blackjack in Las Vegas until the sun comes up—heck, we earned it after a "hard" day on Lake Mead.

That was just the way Tom rolled, a seriously fun guy. But when it came to work, he was just as serious.

A writer can make up a missed interview with a phone call. But a photographer can't make up a missed shot. Tom didn't miss, especially when he shot offshore racing.

On the product side and with lifestyle feature, Tom's images were all about making high-performance boating look like something everyone should want to do. He made us wear short-sleeve shirts in boats running 70-mph on 40-degree mornings. If we looked too serious, he'd get our attention from the helicopter, point to his teeth and smile. That meant we were supposed to smile.

Ever hear the expression, "We got bugs in our teeth?" Thanks to Tom, a lot of us at Powerboat really did.

Quick Tom story: We were shooting running shots off Sarasota one fall afternoon. I was running a 35-foot Formula Sun Sport. Tom wanted me to to run outside in the Gulf of Mexico, and I wouldn't because I thought it was too rough. (What Tom couldn't hear from the helicopter was the microwave oven bouncing around in the cabin, but I don't think it would have phased him. He was all about getting the shot.)

I wouldn't budge, so we did all of the shooting in one of the channels leading to the Gulf. Just beyond the channel, there was a regatta of tiny Sabot sail boats getting knocked around in the 3- to 5-foot seas.

That night at the bar—I could begin a million Tom stories with those words—Tom and I were arguing about the shoot. He couldn't believe I wouldn't run outside. I couldn't believe he was pushing me to go out there and then giving me crap about it because had I bought the boat back trashed it would have been my problem, not his.

Finally, he says, "Yeah, well, it wasn't too rough for the guys in the Sabots," and he starts laughing in his ridiculous cackle. And he keeps repeating it, and cackling, until he gets the whole bar and, yeah, me, laughing with him.

That's just how Tom was. Charismatic, funny and way big fun.