It was 60 years ago this year that the 8-year-old me stuck a cheap plastic camera through a gap in the fence under the flagstand at Daytona International Speedway and snapped a photo of Ken Miles and Lloyd Ruby sitting next to their Ford GT40 celebrating their victory in the 24 Hours of Daytona.

As a photographer, my job was to document the action, but I quickly realized that the real story was in the emotions playing out on the sidelines and in the stands. Marino’s determination, the crowd’s mixed feelings, and the team’s struggle all told a story that numbers and highlights could never fully capture.

At some point during the race, my editor caught me completely off guard. He handed me a 500mm lens—no small piece of glass in the film era—and casually instructed me to head up into the blimp to photograph the race-leading Porsche 935, driven by A.J. Foyt, Bob Wollek, and Derek Bell. Just like that, my perspective on Sebring was about to change—literally.

I never had the chance to ask about the hand signal and to this day I don't know if it was made in jest, a good natured ribbing of a buddy as he raced past on the racetrack or whether it was made out of some sort of simmering bad blood among teammate rivals.

Once the green flag flew, the race settled into its familiar rhythm—a mix of sprint-race intensity and long-distance patience. The story of the day belonged to the No. 01 Chip Ganassi Racing Lexus-Riley, a car carrying a lineup packed with star power: Scott Pruett, Memo Rojas, Dario Franchitti, and Juan Pablo Montoya.

In the years I spent covering NASA's shuttle launches, this particular one always stand out in my memory as one of those times when everything came together perfectly.

Back then, photographers had the freedom to wander in and out of garages, talk to anyone, and generally move around as long as we respected the space. So I stepped right in, introduced myself as a UPI photographer, and asked Petty if he’d mind if I got on the floor to make a few photos of him under the car. His reply was simple:“Knock yourself out.”

Over the years, my photography has grown through two distinct eras — the pre-2000 film years and the digital era beginning in 2001. To share that full creative journey, I’ve separated my work into two dedicated Instagram accounts: @35mmbcpix, home to my archival film photography, and @bcpix, where my digital archive lives and continues to evolve.

If you’re a motorsports fan with an appreciation for vintage style, then you’ll want to check out this gem from the shop BCPixPhotos on Etsy: the 2026 IMSA GTP Racing Calendar

Photography and My Life as a Freelance Photographer Since I picked up my first camera, a little plastic 127 roll film camera gifted to me by my dad back in the 1960s, I knew photography would be a part of my life. I've thought about it a lot over the years. I think it all comes down to the idea of capturing a moment in time. Freezing it allows me to examine and revisit it over and over again. This idea resonates with anyone who has ever looked back at a photograph and felt th

The story behind my photo of air Force One departing the 2004 Daytona 500 with President George Bush on board as race winner Dale Earnhardt Jr. passes by on the race track

When covering event for media outlets like these you were pretty much at the mercy of your employer as far as what film you were shooting to