By Rhode Dueñas
Fascinated by an interaction with a woman while covering an event, Annie Rice found the focus of her master’s project. While at the University of Missouri, Rice made a micro-documentary following three families, each of whom had a missing loved one.
Marianne lost her daughter.
Her daughter had been missing for 25 years, and her cancer had come back.
“There was always this rain cloud over her and her life, and yet she kept fighting through the circumstances,” Rice said emotionally.
Marianne didn’t give up.
Rice didn’t either. Inspired by the people she has photographed, Rice is a compassionate photojournalist who continues to put her heart into her work. At the same time, she can’t help feeling the pressure and stress from the people in her images.
“At the end of the day, you’re still human,” Rice said.
Mateo Rosiles, who worked with Rice at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal, said he was inspired by her passion to continue his education.
“She started talking about her project one day, and I was kind of inspired,” Rosiles said.
After hearing about Rice leaving for a teaching opportunity at Texas Tech University, he knew she was made for it.
“I knew she loved to teach because, of course, she was like my mentor,” Rosiles said.
Before inspiring others, Rice herself was inspired to pursue her career by her grandfather Neil Hurd or Poppa.
As a child, Rice would travel to the city best known for Mardi Gras, New Orleans, to visit her grandparents.
Neil Hurd was a wedding photographer in New Orleans for 30 years. Rice would go into the studio and play computer games while her grandparents worked with clients, she said. Her Nana was like Poppa’s assistant to her; she’d see them work together in the studio.
“I remember seeing all the different printed portraits of all the brides,” Rice said.
With so many cameras around her, Rice recalled always having one in her hands as a kid.
“He would get me those disposable cameras that you get at Walgreens and would make me photograph what I wanted,” Rice said.
Before entering the digital age, Rice had access to a dark room to develop photos with her Poppa. She didn’t realize the uniqueness of being around her grandfather until the eighth grade when she received her first point-and-shoot camera.
The uniqueness of Poppa’s profession finally settled in while she was in high school. Described as a capital “P” for a professional camera, Rice was gifted her first DSLR, she said.
Within time, Rice began looking for photography programs across the country. Poppa eagerly wanted her to attend Brooks Institute, formerly known as Brooks Institute of Photography, in Ventura, California. Brooks Institute closed its doors in 2016. The school focused on the art of photography; Rice wanted a more traditional college experience.
“Mizzou was, you know, much more,” Rice said.
She wanted to move as far as possible after graduating high school, Mizzou was 14 hours away from her home. Poppa supported her throughout the hunt for a program that fit her needs; he joined Rice on her college visits to Mizzou, she said.
Several years later, Poppa continues to be her number-one fan. Every year for Christmas, all he wants her to do is print him photos of what she’s taken, Rice said.
Poppa and the rest of her family have supported her endeavor to be a photojournalist, even though none of them knew what it meant, Rice said.
Rice had fears about pursuing photojournalism because it wasn’t secure. It was an arts field that came with potential instability. Even when knowing the risks of pursuing photojournalism, her family supported her.
“Maybe they saw something within the photos I was taking or just saw the joy of how much I really loved it,” Rice said.
Rice’s perspective on storytelling changed as she began to work on her master’s program at Mizzou. Her project was a micro-documentary titled “Still, the Emptiness.” The project included some research as well, Rice said.
“Still, the Emptiness” focused on families in Missouri who were missing loved ones. The work captures the experience of what it’s like to have a family member go missing.
“What do you do when someone you love is just gone,” Rice questioned.
The documentary followed three families. One family had a brother go missing, another was missing their son for five years, and a mother was missing her daughter for 25 years. All families were dealing and grieving in different timelines.
During her time working on the project, Rice built a connection with the families that continued for years after the project concluded.
The first family – the missing brother – had the body found. After Rice received the news, her response takeaway was, “At least you have something as opposed to always wondering.”
The woman who inspired her project, Marianne, didn’t get the closure she needed.
“Unfortunately, my last source passed away from cancer earlier this year,” Rice said.
Since her first interaction with Marianne, they worked together for four years. In need of a front-page photo for the day, Rice looked through the calendar of events that the town had. The event was a vigil for victims of violent crime and prayers for missing people, Rice said.
There, she heard Marianne’s story – a story that stuck with her.
“She wrote – she was obsessed with writing journals about her daughter,” Rice said.
Marianne wanted her daughter, Angie, to have something to read as a way of catching up on everything she’s missed.
“She was missing for 25 years, so just boxes and boxes and boxes of spirals,” Rice said.
Rice witnessed Marianne organize a nonprofit focused on creating a support system for victims of violent crime.
Rice kept things professional; however, it took a toll on her. She emphasized the hardships of seeing her sources struggle to cope with their missing loved ones. After hearing the news of Marianne’s death, she had a realization.
The real story should have been a story about her, Rice said. Her daughter went missing; she had cancer, the list went on.
The experience of filming the micro-documentary has allowed her to talk to her students about balancing the professional and human sides of the career. Her time at Mizzou prepared her for what was in store for her within the industry.
In 2018, after graduating with her master’s from Mizzou, Rice interned with the Associated Press (AP). She covered heavy topics in Chicago for about eight months. It was one of those moments where I made it, Rice said.
She questioned her worth as imposter syndrome began to consume her. Rice eventually questioned AP.
“What do you want me to do,” Rice asked AP.
Whatever you want, Rice recalled being told. She was stunned by the freedom and trust she received while with AP. Determined not to let AP down, she got straight to work.
Because it was Chicago, Rice was photographing a lot of gun violence visuals.
On Saturday, July 7, 2018, a protest in Chicago shut down the Dan Ryan Expressway.
The images Rice captured would be featured on platforms like the Washington Post, the New York Times and CBS News.
One image features a Black woman in a green shirt smiling with her arms waving in the air, surrounded by fellow protestors on the expressway.
Seeing her images on multiple platforms was “career-affirming.” The amount of work, grind, sweat and tears paid off and made her believe she earned her place, Rice said.
After her internship, Rice stayed in touch with her editors. One editor, Charlie Arbogast, became her “wackedoo mentor.”
From AP to the Corpus Christi Caller-Times to the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal (A-J), Rice arrived in Lubbock, Texas, in 2022. Eager to be closer to her now-husband, Stephen Garcia, Rice applied for the vacant staff photographer position at the A-J.
“Her photos showed how talented she was,” Garcia said.
Garcia is a fan of good photography; he thought Rice was really good at it when he first started getting to know her, he said. With a vacant position at the A-J, Garcia thought it was meant to be. The Caller-Times and A-J are both owned by Gannett; this made the transition easy. After encouraging Rice to apply, she officially started in February 2022 as a lead photographer and photo editor.
The images she captured throughout her time with the A-J portrayed human emotion in unexplainable ways.
Her sports stills of Texas Tech University Athletics convey the passion she has as a female in sports photography.
One still showcases young Texas Tech Basketball fans making nervous gestures at a game. The boy to the left, wearing a scarlet red jersey, is closing his eyes and covering his mouth with his Tech hat. The other is clenching his fists and teeth while wearing a white jersey.
“She’s definitely got to cover a lot of big moments in Texas Tech sports the past few years,” Garcia said.
Now, Rice teaches at Texas Tech University. She’s a lecturer at the College of Media and Communication.
“She always wanted to encourage younger photographers and sort of give tips,” Garcia said.
Rice has used her professional experience to teach her students and serve as a reminder that “at the end of the day, you’re still human.”
I always thought it was going to be my twilight, Rice said about teaching.
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