If a celebrity, diplomat, foreign leader or national politician passed through Boston in the mid-20th century, there’s a good chance Frederick G.S. Clow was there, taking their photograph. In eight decades as a photographer, Clow has generated a stockpile of images that includes the likes of Martin Luther King, Ella Fitzgerald, Winston Churchill and nearly every member of the Kennedy family. Clow forged long-standing friendships with some of them. Ted Kennedy, in particular, was a friend of Clow’s for years.

Clow’s images capture the person behind the celebrity—the tilted smile of Martin Luther King, the surprise on the face of Eleanor Roosevelt sitting in the backseat as Clow slides in the car, camera in hand. His portfolio, in a sense, serves as photographic evidence of the personal and professional rapports he developed, captured in hundreds of negatives. Each photograph he turns through has a story. Sitting in his kitchen, I asked if he is glad he chose the life of a photographer. The answer was an emphatic yes.

Clow’s career in photography began in 1949. An 18-year-old Clow was working here and there as a wannabe stringer for a handful of Boston publications. He received a tip on what time Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru would be leaving his Boston hotel room. Clow went therewith his camera, and took a photo of Nehru and his sister on their visit, wearing traditional dress. That was the first photo Clow sold. His payout: $5 (the modern equivalent of $65, adjusting for inflation). “The Boston Post [initially] said, ‘Thanks for your interest, but we’re not interested.’ But then on my way out, the society editor said, ‘Put [the photo] up right away.’”

When Clow enlisted in the U.S. Army Air Corps Reserve in 1950, he found a spot taking photographs. He was later hired as a photographer for the Massachusetts Democratic State Committee. When then-President Harry Truman visited Boston in 1952 with House Majority Leader John McCormack, Massachusetts Gov. Paul Dever, Archbishop Richard Cushing and then-Rep. John F. Kennedy, a 22-year-old Clow was there, quietly taking photos in the back.

Clow's career is one of journalistic independence. Clow sold his images to Newsweek, Time magazine, UPI and over a dozen other publications in Boston and Cape Cod. It wasn’t until he moved to Nantucket that he landed a job as a full-time photographer, at The Inquirer and Mirror. “I’m independent as hell,” Clow said. “I don’t have to answer to anyone and I own my own negatives.”

He was at the right place and the right time at Logan Airport for the arrival of Pope John Paul II in 1979. At the time, Clow told the photography editor for UPI he wanted to photograph the Pope for the Boston-based news agency, only to later say he changed his mind and would sell the image elsewhere. “[The editor] went ballistic,” Clow said.

Clow turned that philosophy of independence into a lengthy career, taking photographs of Eleanor Roosevelt, Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan. By the 1990s, Clow had become a well known fixture at political fundraisers. At one campaign fundraiser on Nantucket for Bill Clinton, Clow was able to sneak past a gauntlet of Secret Service agents. “I guess they knew me,” he said. Clow was later stopped by Hillary Clinton during her 2008 presidential campaign. She shouted to Clow, “Nantucket!” before taking Clow by the hand.

Clow moved to Nantucket in 1968, buying a house on Lyon Street, where he still lives. Several years earlier, Clow had been at the Kennedy Compound in Hyannis taking photos of the family on their lawn—something Clow would do over and over again for decades. On that trip, Clow took the ferry to Nantucket. The island had a quiet, isolated feeling that reminded him of his mother’s hometown in Nova Scotia. “I walked up Main Street and said this is where I want to be forever,” Clow said. “I said as I looked up Main Street that this is where I want to live and this is where I want to die.” Clow, now 93 years old, said he has started to think of a long-term plan for his photographs. When asked about donating images to an institution or museum, Clow half-jokingly said he would donate for cash. “I’m a realist,” he said. “The good lord has put me on Nantucket, so it was meant to be."