The Portrait That Found Me: How My Great-Grandfather’s Image Sparked My Mission

Some moments change everything. They shift your perspective, reaffirm your purpose, and set you on a path you never expected. For me, that moment came in the form of a portrait—an old, weathered image of my great-grandfather, Guy Stabler.

This portrait has always been in my life. It hangs in my parents’ home, my sister’s home, and even at the Twelve Clans Hospital in Winnebago. It has always been around me. But when it came to me—when it was returned to me in the most unexpected way—it was different. It was profound. And it became the moment that ignited FOCUS by Savannah.

The Journey That Led Me to It

In the fall of 2023, my dad and I took a trip to the Angel DeCora Museum. I wanted to show him around, to walk him through the deep history stored there. One piece in particular caught our attention—a massive clay cast of a water spirit. My dad stared at it for a long time before saying, “I helped make this.”

The museum curator was surprised.

“You did?”

“Yeah,” my dad said. “But this is a copy.”

And he was right. The original was at the public museum.

In the 1970s, my dad had been part of a team that created this cast from an ancient carving at Hole in the Rock on the Omaha Indian Reservation. The original carving had been deteriorating due to time, weather, and vandalism. To preserve it, my dad and others hiked up to the bluff and made a clay imprint before it disappeared forever.

This moment in the museum set off a series of events.

After rediscovering his role in creating the cast, my dad went searching for the original negatives of photos taken during that process. Once he found them, we had them digitized. The museum was interested in preserving this history, and they purchased prints of the images to add to their collection.

This experience reinforced something I already knew deep down: history is fragile. Without photographs, without records, stories can be lost.

And then, as if the universe wanted to make sure I truly understood, something even bigger happened.

The Moment the Portrait Came to Me

A few weeks later, I visited the Sioux City Public Museum, where I met Steve Hansen. In conversation, I mentioned that my dad had helped create the water spirit cast. To my surprise, Steve knew my dad. This connection might have seemed small at the time, but it would end up leading me to one of the most important moments of my life.

A couple of months later, I ran into Steve again at a meeting. After the meeting, he approached me and said,

“Hey, I have something I’d like you to take a look at. A piece of art. I’d love to get your thoughts on it.”

I had no idea what he was about to show me.

Steve pulled out an old portrait. A face I recognized immediately.

“Do you know who this is?” he asked.

I stared at it.

“I know he’s a relative,” I said, “but I’m not sure exactly what the relationship is. I’d have to ask my dad. But where did you get this?”

Steve thought for a moment.

“To be honest, I don’t remember exactly. I’ve had it for a long time. I think it was in an old art gallery or framing gallery and was left behind. It’s just been tucked away in my collection ever since. But when I met you, something clicked. I realized this photo was connected to your family.”

I was in shock.

I looked closer at the portrait. The name Ricehill was on it—a familiar name in my family. The print had the markings of a limited edition photograph, something my dad had once created.

I was still trying to process everything when Steve said,

“Well, it’s yours now.”

And that’s when I lost it.

I started crying.

This portrait, over 150 years old, had somehow found its way back to me through a chain of events that I could have never planned. I immediately called my dad. He was on his way into town, so I sent him a photo.

When he saw it, he was stunned.

“How in the heck do you have this?”

That’s when I learned the full story.

Years ago, my dad had created prints of this portrait in different color variations. The one I had received was the yellow version. He explained how he had worked on these prints, how they had been shared with family, and how—somewhere along the way—one had been lost. And now, through an unbelievable sequence of events, it had come back to me.

Why This Moment Changed Everything

This portrait showed me the power of photography—not just as an art form, but as a way to preserve history.

It showed me that photographs don’t just capture a moment—they can live on for centuries. They can find their way home. They can carry stories across generations.

Whenever I feel lost, when I question what I’m doing or why I do it, I look at that portrait.

It reminds me that I was given the tools to keep our history alive. It reminds me that this work—capturing images, preserving stories—is not just about photography. It’s about legacy.

That is why I started FOCUS by Savannah.

I run a photography business, but FOCUS by Savannah is different. It’s a project where I use my skills to give back—to create images that honor our people, our culture, and our stories. One of the most meaningful projects within FOCUS by Savannah is the Ribbon Skirt Showcase, where I collaborate with talented individuals to create powerful portraits of Native people wearing ribbon skirts, a symbol of resilience, identity, and culture.

This is the one event where session fees are waived. It’s about storytelling. It’s about preserving history. It’s about showcasing talent—not just my own, but the artistry of those who create the ribbon skirts, the people who wear them, and the culture they represent.

If you’re interested in learning more, becoming a participant in the upcoming Ribbon Skirt Showcase, or donating to support the project, you can find more details here:

Focus by Savannah

Every year, I want to revisit this story. I want to remind myself why I do this.

Because sometimes, a portrait isn’t just a picture.

Sometimes, it’s a calling.