If pictures tell a thousand words, then about three volumes of encyclopedias surrounded Wiley Price as he packed up his office at The St. Louis American on Friday. His retirement on Dec. 31 after more than four decades of service as the staff photojournalist — and for many, the face of The St. Louis American — marks the end of an era.
“Wiley has been a beloved colleague and an integral part of The American’s mission,” said Publisher Donald M. Suggs. “We are deeply appreciative of his many years of service as a tireless photojournalist. He has served both this newsroom and the community so well.”
The Missouri Photojournalism and St. Louis Media Hall of Fame inductee started as a freelancer with The American in 1979 under the tutelage of late Executive Editor Bennie G. Rodgers. By 1982, he was the full-time staff photographer.
“He worked for a weekly, but I saw him every day,” said retired photojournalist Odell Mitchell Jr., who worked for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “Every time I would pop up at a news event, Wiley was already there shooting,” Mitchell said.
Price also worked for the Suburban Journals and The Associated Press, but the vast majority of his award-winning career has been with The American.
“The time has flown by,” Price said as he reflected on his tenure. “It feels like a nanosecond.”
The piles that he prepared to box up and take home reflected the advancements in technology within his field over the decades. On his desk were slick black-and-white images he developed in his darkroom when the office was at 4144 Lindell. Color images and burned CDs represented the 4242 Lindell days. There were also the orange and silver external hard drives that held the final assignments that he edited and filed at 2315 Pine, The American’s current location.
“Anyone can pick up a camera and take a photo,” said Tim Parker, who worked alongside Price at the Suburban Journals. “But Wiley could pick up a camera and make a photo. He brought being a good person to the job — and that’s something technology can’t replace.”
At the top of one stack was an 8-by-10 image of a funeral procession that curled at the edges. It was black-and-white, but the casket glistened to the point where it felt like it was in color. Flowers and people surrounded it. The image was from the 1987 funeral of Bishop P.L. Scott, founding pastor of Lively Stone Church of God.
“It looked like it was made of solid gold,” Price said. “I remember thinking, ‘I will never shoot another funeral like this.’ And of all the funerals I shot, I never did.”
Immediately beneath that image was a distraught little girl lying on the ground with her head on the curb. She had been hit by a car in the parking lot of the Walgreens on Lindell. Price had his camera with him as he stopped in to make a purchase and captured the image of the girl.
“She wasn’t really hurt,” Price said. “She was just overwhelmed by all of the fuss that was being made by the adults around her as they waited for the police to come. It amazes me sometimes when I think about how many times I just happened to be in the right place at the right moment to make a picture.”
Perhaps the most well-known of those moments lay flat on the floor. The massive 24-by-26 image featured a man in the middle of a prayer circle. “I’m a photojournalist for a Black newspaper, do you know how many times I’ve taken a picture of preachers praying over someone,” Price said. “What makes this picture stand out is who they are praying for.”
That man was then-U.S. Sen. Barack Obama. He was in St. Louis for the national convention of the African Methodist Episcopal Church as part of his 2008 presidential campaign. Obama ran on hope — and a prayer — and went on to become the first Black president of the United States. Price’s image went viral before the language existed to describe what that meant. A reprint hangs in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, D.C.
Over the years he photographed every U.S. president from Jimmy Carter to Joe Biden. Obama’s photo holds a special place with Price, but it is not among his personal favorites — which are too vast to narrow down. “If you are a photographer and your best image is of a celebrity, then chances are you are probably not a very good photographer,” Price said.
A career well served
Price’s work extended beyond photography. His camera allowed him to be a relentless practitioner of community service.
“The community has been served completely through the eyes of Wiley Price,” said St. Louis American Contributing Editor Fred Sweets. “I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of the work he’s done for The American.”
Sweets, who also worked for The Post-Dispatch, Washington Post and Los Angeles Times, said Price has documented history over his four-plus decades.
“He would work a scene and get different angles,” Parker said. “He built relationships with people in the community. Wiley would walk around — that’s the type of reporting he did. Other photographers would just stand and point their camera.”
From Ferguson in 2014 to the tornado that devastated historically Black St. Louis neighborhoods on May 16, 2025, Price was on the front lines.
“The killing of Mike Brown Jr. in Ferguson and the Ferguson Uprising really stands out to me,” Price said. “That historical moment brought news stations from across the country to St. Louis.”
He was also there for all the moments in between the major news milestones. The times when Black people needed to see themselves reflected in a manner that countered the narratives that reduced its community to stereotypes and statistics.
As he packed away his final box, the moment was bittersweet.
“I have so many emotions right now,” Price said. “I’ve never imagined myself not doing this.”
He has a sense of peace knowing that he is leaving on his own terms and with his legacy established.
He spent decades moving from protests to press conferences, from sidelines to sanctuaries. The record he leaves behind ensures that the story of Black St. Louis — in moments of joy, grief and resilience — will endure long after his final assignment.
“His pictures weren’t just snapshots,” Mitchell said. “They told a story about the community. They helped tell the story that was being reported. But they also told their own story.”