Doug Wood
George Douglas Wood, 87, Phelan, CA passed away on December 12, 2009 in hospital in Los Angeles after a long illness from kidney failure caused by earlier cancer treatments.
He was born in Long Beach, CA on December 4, 1922, son of the late Charles and Grace May (Bridgford) Wood. His wife of 35 years, Kay, died in 1970. He is survived by his daughters, Sharon and Lori. His son Michael passed in 1975 and his son Terry passed in 2011.
Doug was a graduate of the renowned three-year photography course at Fremont High School in Los Angeles. Eight graduates went on to work at LIFE magazine. Doug and 6 of his fellow graduates joined the army. After enlisting in the U.S. Army in July 1942 he became a motion picture photographer and covered the WWII battles and campaigns in Normandy, Northern France, Ardennes, Rhineland and Central Europe. For his service he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal, European African Middle Eastern Campaign Medal, American Campaign Medal, Good Conduct Medal and 1 Bronze Service Arrowhead. He was given an Honorable Discharge on October 31, 1945
After his military service he was employed as a Air Force civilian employee at Lookout Mountain Laboratory (LML) in Los Angeles. LML was the single agency responsible for all the documentary photography coverage of the atomic bomb testing by the United States. He was Chief of Motion Picture Production until he retired in 1977. He developed a unique system to achieve photography of fighter aircraft bombing results during the Vietnam War. For this he was awarded the Air Force’s highest civilian award, the Exceptional Civilian Service Award.
He was featured in the 2000 film, “Shooting War” Produced by Steven Spielberg and presented by Tom Hanks this documentary tells how war photographers faced the horrors that looked both in Europe and in the Pacific during World War II.
A memorial service was held at the Standard Hotel in Los Angeles on January 10, 2010 where his daughter, Sharon, read the following tribute:
“My dad was my hero. He made me the person I am today – he taught me to be honorable, to help others and that I can do anything I want, be anyone I want to be. He instilled in me a lifelong love of learning and of appreciating a job well done. Some of my earliest memories are of being his helper. My dad traveled a lot but when he was home, he always had projects, repairs or something to build for the house. The year I was 10, his project was building a cabin in Idlewild with his great friend Hal. The walls were framed, and the ridge beams needed to be installed – Hal wasn’t available – so I was the designated helper. We raised those 4 x 10 beams with a pulley – just me and my dad on 12′ ladders. He’d pull up one side, then I would hold the beam steady while he pulled the other side. Then we would switch sides, back and forth until it was up. He never thought I couldn’t do it.
My dad was a great story teller – he had incredible recall – names, places, dates – stories his friends, of WWII, Vietnam, traveling to exotic locals, of Lookout Mountain – the nuclear blasts, the space shots, the airplanes – you never had to worry about awkward silences with my dad.
My dad loved this family, his job, his friends. As many of you know my dad learned to take photographs in high school – he and 4 of his friends joined the army together, took pictures all through the war and then went to work at the same place where they worked together all their adult lives. He had more true long time friendships than anyone I ever knew.
My dad was the ultimate recycler, he would see value in any old piece of junk – you could never tell my dad you were throwing something away. Jesus Christ, he’d say, are you nuts? do you know how much that cost? we can find something to do with it. If you could see his place in Victorville, you would know how much he practiced what he preached. And he definitely passed his recycling gene on to my brother Terry. He can rest easy knowing his treasures are safe in Terry’ hands.
My dad was one of the bravest people I ever met – he wouldn’t complain, he wouldn’t brag – he would just do it. Whether it was walking into a minefield to bring his wounded friend out or fighting a horrible cancer. You have to do it he’d say – there’s no one else.
During this last fight he would always say, I survived that deadly cancer – I got an extra 15 years so I can’t complain now – but it was a horrible losing fight and the only small comfort we have now is that he doesn’t have any more pain.
My dad wanted to be cremated and our family has talked about where to spread his ashes – it will probably be on his beautiful property in Idaho, he loved it there, but Pick a Part would probably be his 2nd choice.
My dad was my friend and my hero and there will never be another quite like him. I’ll miss him forever.”