Tim Ridout

   His name is Tim Ridout, He was a very good friend of mine. On a cold Michigan winter morning last week, I got a text from my dad – “Tim passed away”.  It didn’t take me long to make several phone calls to confirm the bad news, pacing around in circles in my garage, mad; Tim had a heart attack and passed away at his pizza shop. I first met Tim at the pizza shop perhaps 6, 7 years ago, that was before he owned the shop. I’d either go in to get food, or stick my head in and say “Hi!” during my smoke break from the pub next door. I remember that I’d keep popping in there and ask him if he stocked up on Alfredo sauce yet just to start a conversation, as it was a discontinued item, and according to him I was the only one that ever ordered it. Through all the small chats and our invention of the “Australian Stromboli”, our friendship grew. Over the years, we talked about lots of stuff. Come to find out we have lots of interests in common; food, photography, making models, music, cars, racing etc. He took photos for a lot of local races and wrote articles for the VSCDA magazine. I was also fortunate enough to tag along on one of his shoots, (I was his “lens caddy”, that’s how I got in; true story.) at Gingermans. There were lots of stories involved too, like the story about how Ted Nugent sat down next to him in a bar, and years later the two meet again when he was delivering pizza to the PBS station. Another good story was when he saw Pablo Escobar through his telephoto lens, I probably don’t want to give out too much info on that one. Eventually, it got to the point that when I had friends in from out-of-town, we’d stop in the pub to get ‘A’ drink, and I’d say alright let’s get outta here I want you to meet my friend Tim. He is always welcoming to everyone, my friends always became our friends. One time my friend Joe stopped in town, we were hanging out at the shop after a full day of work till 4 o’clock in the morning, even the police stopped by and asked if everything is alright since they seldom saw the lights on that late at night. Another night I tried to make a pizza myself, but I didn’t use the screen or oil the pan, so there he was sitting there shaking his head behind the counter, while my anti gravity pizza cling tightly to the pan. I’m going to miss the guy, even though he shoots canon cameras.

  It deeply saddens me that, the next time I call the pizza shop, Tim no longer is on the other side saying “Big Rounds, How can I help you?”

  Last Friday we had a fund-raiser at Big Rounds, “Free food and donations welcome”, to raise funds for the cost of the funeral, and other expenses so that the shop can be passed on to his family. Having his own pizza shop was Tim’s life long dream, his family is eager to keep the business and his dream alive, and last I knew it was looking alright for them. Being a photography blog, we’re going to see some photos from the ‘fund (or fun) raising party’. Coincidentally, I bought my Nikkormat EL with me that I traded Tim for a couple of years ago, it was a lot of fun, workers, family, friends, lots of people and love.

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Film - 549

Tim and me at the VSCDA Gingerman’s Racetrack.

  Tim, I’ll continue to go in your shop to sweep the floor or wash your windows from time to time for absolutely no reason, just like before.

P.S. I can make a pizza from scratch now, you can stop shaking your head, at least for a little bit.

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13 thoughts on “Tim Ridout

  1. Tim must have been a great friend. So sorry to hear of your loss. There are times in our lives when we connect with special people and do not realize how much they made our lives, our lives, until they are gone. Keep Tim close to your sole. Whenever you think of him, let him know I feel Alfredo sauce on pizza ain’t all that bad either. 🙂

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