5 minute read
Person of Interest
Armed with only a camera, Tom Kliber braved electrocution and freezing temperatures to capture some of the most striking images of this club ever recorded.
By Past Commodore James L. Ramsey
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Tom with his trusty Nikon, bundled up and ready for a winter shoot at sunset.
In the pre-dawn dark, at an hour when most of us are blissfully cocooned in our beds, a lone figure could often be found walking the shoreline of the lake, his feet intuitively probing the invisible ground, guiding him to a position only he knew was correct. Once there, he would plant his tripod in the darkness, attach his camera and wait patiently for the magic to happen.
That was his word for it: “The Magic.” Because that’s what the experience was for him. Always special, and never quite the same each time.
And then it would happen. As the glow began to emerge over the horizon, he would make a few expert adjustments to his equipment and get ready. His artist’s eye would tell him when the moment was right. And then it was. As the intensity of the dawn grew, images began to emerge: first the sky, then the lake, then shrubs and trees, and finally hard objects like the clubhouse and boats in the harbor. All bathed in the first light of day and captured indelibly with the click of his shutter.
Tom Kliber never held an official membership at the Grosse Pointe Yacht Club. But he was a welcome presence here just the same -- a quiet, humble man with a camera never too far from his grasp. He was the son of Past Commodore Ralph and Alice Kliber, and he loved being here with them, spending quality time aboard Balance Sheet, their Chris Craft Roamer, watching the birds and waving to the boaters. His affection for the Club was found in his prolific photographs of the place, which adorned the covers of Grosse Pointer magazine on innumerable occasions, including this one. His framed work also enhances the walls of the Club Fitness Center. His devotion was such that many thought of him as our official Club photographer.
But he wasn’t. There was much more to Tom Kliber than many of us realized. We didn’t know, for example, that he was an attorney who practiced civil law alongside his father in the family firm. Tom earned his degree in jurisprudence from the University of Detroit after graduating from Villanova University. His high school years were spent at Austin Prep School.
Health problems, particularly asthma, inhibited much of Tom’s life. As a result, he was unable to follow the robust career of a photo journalist, and he lived most of his life at his parents’ home in Grosse Pointe Woods until he passed away there in February of this year.
Tom’s adversities made him a better man. They taught him patience – an essential mandate for a photographer.
Tom Kliber at Cape Cod with famed U.S. Coast Guard vessel #CG36500 that helped save the lives of 32 sailors from a sinking oil tanker. It was featured in the book, The Final Hours.
They also made him scholarly, reflective and spiritual – all commendable human attributes, as affirmed by his sister, member Elizabeth “Beth” Kliber.
A second negative event taught Tom another trademark of dedicated photographers: courage. As a young boy, he experienced the terror of a lightning bolt that blasted through the Kliber house, just missing him and his mother and setting the house next door on fire. But rather than live in fear of electrical storms, Tom studied the phenomenon, conquered his trepidation and came to see lightning as the awesome, beautiful thing that it is. After that, whenever the weather forecast predicted an electrical show in the heavens, Tom would grab his camera and fearlessly head for the action. Some of his most dramatic work, in fact, captures incredible arcs of electricity over the GPYC clubhouse. Quite a feat for someone who was almost electrocuted by a high-voltage firebolt.
Tom’s artistry wasn’t confined to Grosse Pointe, either. His work as a nature photographer also won him coveted awards and the respect of his fellow artists around the region. He traveled widely to photograph whatever captured his interest, be it a brilliant field of poppies in Northern Michigan, the misty seascapes of Cape Cod or the crystal-blue glaciers of Iceland. Wherever he went with his camera, Tom was always his usual humble self: “God creates the beauty,” he said. “I just put a box around it.”
Perhaps Tom’s finest quality was his devotion to his parents. Ralph and Alice Kliber were loved and respected GPYC members for many years, and as age took over and their health began to decline, Tom stepped up to care for them. As sister Beth puts it, “It meant taking a pause in his life for a while, but he was happy to do it, even if it meant pushing a wheelchair. He said it was an honor to care for them, and they enjoyed each other’s company a great deal;
Tom Kliber continued
there was a lot of laughter and gin rummy games. He made it possible for them to spend time at the Club with their friends and to be by the water. Because of him, my mother was blessed to live to 100.”
The next time you see a flash of lightning in the sky or watch a sunrise over Lake St. Clair, think of Tom Kliber. You know his spirit is out there somewhere, waiting for the magic to happen -- and when it does, he will put a box around it, forever.
The Nauset Lighthouse (Eastham, Mass.) stands proudly in one of Tom’s photographs, sending a powerful beam to push back the darkness. Tom’s artistic eye was not confined to architecture. Here he finds a cardinal who may have arrived a bit ahead of spring.
The Fort Gratiot Lighthouse in Port Huron, silhouetted against a bolt of lightning.
