12/23/2025
When do you know you’ve made it as a photographer?
A major magazine cover? Maybe.
A Fortune 500 ad campaign? Sure.
Getting the call to photograph the Hill family Christmas card?
Now you’re talking!
The assignment, hatched over a round of disc golf this fall, came from my friend, Mason Hill, whose family’s annual Christmas cards command prime refrigerator real estate across northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin.
These are not your standard smiling-family-in-field holiday cards. The Hills specialize in the gloriously off-beat.
Classics include: “Life is What You Bake of It,” featuring a platter of gingerbread cookies, each with a cheerful Hill family face Photoshopped on. On the reverse side, cookie carnage and expressions of pain and horror. Dad’s gingerbread leg is crumbled at the knee, his daughter’s and sons’ cookies by turns decapitated or limbless, while Santa’s white-gloved hand reaches for mom, the last unscathed gingerbread of the batch. Or my favorite, “Deck the Hills,” a montage of each Hill being decked in the face, noses bent or cheeks smooshed by a fist of unknown origin. The unsmiling family poses for a group photo on the back, clad in Christmas PJs and draped in holly, each of them black-eyed and bruised.
This year’s theme, Mason explained, would put their youngest in the spotlight: Hark! (The Harris Angel Sings).
On a Sunday morning, the Hills rolled into my studio with their A-game—and a trunkful of rock-band gear. Harris ditched his coat, strapped on angel wings and a fuzzy halo, the dropped for a quick set of pushups at his dad’s urging to get his guns camera ready.
As you can see, he was a natural at the mic—a convincing heavenly heartthrob. Not surprising. Fifteen Christmases as a Hill prepares you for this sort of moment.
Once we nailed the cover shot, we pivoted to the B-side concept: a rock n’ roll band portrait of The Reconciled Sinners.
At this point, I was informed there was a hard stop—the Packers were about to kick off. I was secretly relieved (for time and insurance reasons) that we’d already scrapped the original plan of flying Harris over the family in a harness.
Maybe next year.