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Full text of "Get that picture! The story of the news cameraman"

GET THAT PICTURE! THE 

STORY OF THE NEWS 

CAMERAMAN 

By A. J. EZICKSON 



In this vivid portrayal of the 
newspaper photographer and 
hi? profession, Mr. Ezickson has 
toid a complete story of a branch 
of modern journalism which has 
grown firmly and steadily within 
the past decade. The photogra- 
pher is the central character, his 
background is the teeming news- 
paper office, his field of action 
the world in which he cease- 
lessly works his camera to cap- 
ture the news. 

Sixteen years of daily contact 
with the news cameraman has 
given the author an intimate and 
thorough knowledge of the en- 
tire field of news photography. 
He has been "on top" of some of 
the biggest news stories that 
ever broke and has personally 
assigned many of the photog- 
raphers whose results have 
made picture history. Ever since 
his graduation from the Colum- 
bia University School of Journal- 
ism in 1922, Mr. Ezickson has 
been connected with nearly 

(Continued on Back Flap) 



From the collection of the 



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San Francisco, California 
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International News Photo 
A TRAGEDY OF THE SEAS 

Sweeping low out of a thick mist and rain, Mack Baron, International News 
photographer, made this first picture to be taken of the burning steamship 
Morro Castle off Asbury Park, N. J., in 1935, in which 134 passengers and 
members ot the crew perished. Note lifeboat with survivors in foreground 
waiting to be picked up by rescue vessel. Later other photographers ap- 
peared over the scene, but Baron and Pilot Bill Gulick had already landed 
at North Beach, Long Island, with the negatives which -were rushed by 
motorcycle to the New York office foi an outstanding picture beat. 



Get That Picture ! 

The Story of the News Cameraman 



00 

By 

A. J. EZICKSON 

of Wide World Photos 

00 



NATIONAL LIBRARY PRESS 



110 West 42nd Street New York, N. Y. 



Copyright, 1938, by 
NATIONAL LIBRARY PRESS 



PRINTED BY THEODOEE GAUS* SONS, INC., NEW YORK CITY 



CONTENTS 

Page 

CHAPTER I 
WHEN A BIG STORY BREAKS 9 



CHAPTER II 

THE CAMERA Is BORN AND BECOMES A GIANT 18 

CHAPTER III 

THE TRAIN, PLANE, PIGEON, WIRE AND RADIO 

CARRY THE PICTURE 33 

CHAPTER IV 
THE EDITOR SCANS THE PICTURE 49 

CHAPTER V 
THE ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS CAMERAMAN .... 67 

CHAPTER VI 
FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS CAMERAMAN. . 83 

CHAPTER VII 
THE CAMERAMAN ON THE JOB 104 

CHAPTER VIII 
THE CAMERAMAN COVERS THE DAILY EVENT . 121 



CONTENTS (continued) 

Page 

CHAPTER IX 
THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHER 138 



CHAPTER X 
THE WOMAN NEWS PHOTOGRAPHER 151 

CHAPTER XI 
THE AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHER GETS THE PICTURE. ... 168 

CHAPTER XII 
THE PUBLICITY MAN GETS THE PICTURE 174 

CHAPTER XIII 
THE MINIATURE CAMERA ON THE NEWS JOB 182 

CHAPTER XIV 
THE GREATEST PICTURE STORY OF ALL TIMES .... 193 



and 45 Illustrations 



GET THAT PICTURE! 



To 
FLO, 

My Wife 







- 



Pictures, Inc. 
STRIKE CASUALTY 

Patrolman C V. Satt (right), bloody and dust covered after being- showered 
with rocks and bottles in Denver, Colo., strike riot in 1935, is shown being 
defended by a comrade who rushed ahead of the line of fire to aid him. 








Pictures, Inc. 

MONEY-KING STRICKEN 

An alert cameraman snapped J. P. Morgan, the international financier, as he 

was removed from a train at Mill Neck, Long- Island, after suffering an 

attack of neuritis in July, 1936. Train employes and friends are seeking to 

make him quite comfortable on the stretcher. 



Chapter I. 
WHEN A BIG STORY BREAKS 

The picture editor was typing his nightly memorandum 
for the day editor a summary of stories which broke dur- 
ing his shift (watch for the return of the dirigible Akron to 
its hangar at Lakehurst, he specifically underlined), and 
others of lesser importance which needed watching for pic- 
ture possibilities. 

The caption writer had cleaned his desk top and was 
carefully filing the night's clippings. 

"What a night," he muttered, as he glanced toward the 
side windows as a heavy rain beat against the panes, and 
wondering how he was to reach home without rubbers and 
umbrella. 

He glanced at the clock. It was 1.45 a.m. 

The mail clerk had finished wrapping the batch of enve- 
lopes stuffed with photographs while the motorcyclist who 
was to take them to the train mail slot and then deliver his 
customary evening papers (this time, by subway as he had 
left his motorcycle at a garage), lolled at a nearby table 
waiting impatiently for the last trip of the night. 

The darkroom printer stood in the doorway of the dark- 
room exchanging light banter with one of the "squeegee" 
boys placing a few odd prints on the ferrotype machine to be 
dried and glossed. 

From the other end of the long room came the steady 
click of the teletype machines the endless stream of stories 
coming in and going out to the world's four corners. 

A few more minutes, and there would be an exodus of 
the night staff to the elevators, followed by a dash through 
the rain to the subways for the homeward rides. 



10 GET THAT PICTURE 

A sudden shout from the city editor seated at the desk 
at the farther end of the room. 

"The Akron's crashed!" 

Everyone converged toward his desk. 

The night editor turned toward the few remaining oper- 
ators. 

"Hold it," he shouted. "We're sending an EOS flash !" 

That flash, with the steady ringing of the bell at the 
receiving ends, was to announce to excited editors from 
coast to coast that a tragedy had befallen America's pride 
of the air. 

Everyone stretched neck to catch the words the city 
editor was scribbling on a pad. It was the message picked 
up at sea from the German tanker Phoebus and being 
phoned in by the Radiomarine Corporation of America. 

"Airship Akron with 77 men afloat off Barnegat Light- 
ship. Picked up some. Chief officer and three men. Can- 
not save all. 45 miles south of entrance to New York 
Harbor. Ten to 15 miles offshore." 

The flash was already spinning over the wires to all 
parts of the world. 

Every department was galvanized into action. 

The picture editor rushed to the phone. Calls were 
placed for correspondents at Asbury Park, Long Branch, 
Lakewood and Atlantic City. Then another for a pilot 
who had flown often for the syndicate on big stories. Still 
another for Holmes Airport. A plane must be chartered 
at once. 

While these were being plugged in, the general manager, 
the day editor, mat editor and three photographers were be- 
ing roused from their sleep by the ringing of the phones. 
All must be notified at once; not a second's time is to be 
lost. 

Then back to the files. The folder with a miscellany 
of Akron photographs. A fine shot of the giant dirigible 



GET THAT PICTURE II 

in the air, another in its hangar at Lakehurst, some interior 
views showing the control cabin, sleeping quarters, a scene 
along the catwalk, and others. In an instant the printer is 
making copies. The negative file is sought. Of the best 
ones a full service is ordered. 

The portraits of the two known commanding officers, 
Admiral William A. Moffett and Lieutenant Commander 
Herbert Wiley, are taken from the files and copied. 

Then back to the typewriter. Rush messages are sent 
to the managers of the various bureaus at Chicago, Cleve- 
land, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Atlanta. 

The message reads : "Service your lists best shots Akron 
and commanding officers Admiral Moffett and Commander 
Wiley. Keep close watch on casualty list and keep after 
shots officers and men from respective home towns in your 
vicinity." 

Every five or ten minutes a dash to the general desk. 
About 2 130 another message is received from the Phoebus 
identifying the rescued officer as Commander Wiley. Names 
of the three enlisted men are also given. 

A wireless is sent to the captain of the Phoebus request- 
ing pictures if any were taken of the rescue of the four sur- 
vivors and that such pictures will be picked up as soon as 
the ship docks. 

A phone call is placed for the bureau manager at Wash- 
ington. He is told to try to get all pictures available of the 
Akron's officers and men from the Navy Department files 
as soon as the offices there are opened in the morning. 

Over the wires flash a long list of the names and ad- 
dresses of the Akron's personnel. Messages are wired to 
the correspondents of the cities where the men had their 
homes asking for stock pictures of the men and new shots 
of the nearest of kin. 

A photographer who lived nearby rushes into the office 



12 GET THAT PICTURE 

and starts loading his plates. His case soon bulges with a 
complete outfit, loaded holders, flash bulbs, etcetra. 

"Get down to the Eureka Auto Company office. A car 
has been ordered for you to drive to Asbury Park," he is 
told. One of the boys accompanies him. The train sched- 
ules had been checked and there was no service to Asbury 
Park until morning. He must get down there without a 
moment's delay. Expense money is thrust into his hand, a 
cry of "good luck," and last minute instructions are hurled 
at him as he dashes for the elevator. He is to phone the 
office as soon as he arrives. 

The correspondent's calls are coming in. Jones at As- 
bury Park is advised to hire a good seaworthy boat and 
have it in readiness for the staff cameraman. Brown at 
Lakewood is instructed to get down to Lakehurst hangar 
in a rush and "shoot" pictures of the officers making rescue 
plans, also the families of the Akron crew (many of the 
men had their homes at Lakehurst), and also a shot of the 
empty hangar at Lakehurst, a sad reminder of the Akron's 
last voyage. 

The latest news bulletins announce that the Navy De- 
partment has ordered the new cruiser Portland and the 
destroyers Cole and Bernadou from the Brooklyn Navy 
Yard to scour the rough Atlantic waters for the missing 
crew. 

Pictures of the vessels are dragged from the files, copied 
and rushed through for service. 

The United Air, TWA and American Air Lines offices 
are phoned to learn if the early morning outgoing planes 
are flying. Looks doubtful, they reply. Weather is still 
bad. ' 

A new crew of printers and boys has arrived, as well as 
the day editor and another caption writer. Two photogra- 
phers come in are told to load plenty of holders; one is to 
go to Newark Airport to board a chartered plane, the other 



GET THAT PICTURE 13 

to Holmes Airport. They are to take off at the crack of 
dawn. 

Contact is made with the Coast Guard station at Staple- 
ton, Staten Island. Yes, a Coast Guard destroyer is leav- 
ing shortly, and will be able to accomodate one of the syndi- 
cate's photographers. A new arrival with loaded equipment 
is hurried there. 

More news bulletins come ticking over the wires. Naval 
planes from the Reserve Air Station at Floyd Bennett Field 
will shove off at the first light of dawn. Boats from the 
Beach Haven, Asbury Park and Atlantic City Coast Guard 
and life saving stations are being rushed out into the angry 
seas. 

A new flash announces that the Coast Guard destroyer 
Tucker has taken aboard Commander Wiley, two enlisted 
men and the body of the fourth from the Phoebus in a mid- 
ocean transfer and will head for New York. The ship will 
arrive at the Brooklyn Navy Yard hospital about noon. The 
Coast Guard is phoned. Yes, pictures of the transfer, two 
shots, are being developed aboard ship, comes the answer, 
and prints will be distributed to the newspapers and picture 
agencies on its arrival. 

Anxiety centers around the departure of the planes. 
Will they be able to take off? It is still raining, though not 
as heavy as it was earlier, and a fresh northeaster' still 
holds. As a thick gray dawn breaks, the flying fields report 
that in spite of a poor visibility and a strong wind, the 
planes will take off. 

News is still scant regarding the fate of the Akron's 
crew. The Phoebus and a score of other ships searching 
the vicinity of the crash report not a sign of any man, 
living or dead. One of the ships has sighted some floating 
wreckage but it is being pushed violently far out to sea. No 
doubt but that the heavy combers had torn the huge ship 



14 GET THAT PICTURE 

asunder into a thousand pieces and plunged the heavier parts 
into its depths. 

Wires have arrived from the bureau managers at Los 
Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta and Cleveland. Chicago is serv- 
icing its list three good shots of the Akron, also a closeup 
of Admiral Moffett and Commander Wiley. Cleveland is 
servicing two Akron views and Admiral Moffett; Los 
Angeles the same, and Atlanta is sending out two of the 
Akron alone. 

A general note to the picture editors of all the sub- 
scribers has been rushed over the wire calling their attention 
to several views of the Akron which had been serviced on a 
certain date. This procedure assists them in the search of 
their own files for pictures. 

Trains and airmail schedules are checked. The weather 
westward is good; the planes will take off. Packages of 
photographs for the nearby evening paper subscribers are 
given to a train porter or baggagemaster to deliver to the 
newspaper representatives on their arrival. Within an hour 
after their arrival, the photographs will have been scaled, 
retouched, rushed to the photoengraving department for the 
making of the cuts, then locked in on the page, mats and 
castings made and then to the presses for the early editions. 

Representatives of the air fields phone and announce 
that the planes with the photographers aboard are already 
in the air. The photographer at Asbury Park calls and 
says that his boat is ready and will take off in a few minutes. 

Motorcycle men are stationed at the airports to await 
the return of the flying cameramen. The minute the planes' 
wheels touch the ground these daring drivers will be rushing 
back with the undeveloped plates. 

The first phone call from one of the fields comes in about 
eleven. The photographer reports his plane had flown low 
over the scene and cruised around for a radius of many 
miles but had only seen a few bits of wreckage. He had 



GET THAT PICTURE 15 

also made shots of the coast guard and naval vessels plow- 
ing through the rough seas searching for wreckage and vic- 
tims. They are the first pictures in on the story, not much, 
to be truthful, but enough to illustrate it for the time being, 
and enough to set every man and machine in the syndicate 
at the highest pitch of action. 

The motorcylist dashes in with the holders. The editor 
turns them over to the waiting printer who locks himself in 
the small darkroom. Within five minutes they are out of 
the developer into the hypo. In a minute they are fixed, 
given a hasty wash, and the first negative is placed into a 
holder, given to the motorcycle man and rushed to the tele- 
photo station. It's case of first come, first served; a print 
is made and within fifteen minutes the wires to Chicago, 
Cleveland, Boston, San Francisco and Los Angeles are 
transmitting the picture onto a loaded drum in the receiving 
rooms at the respective stations. Managers of the bureaus 
will have messengers waiting for the finished films to rush 
them back to the offices for servicing. 

In the New York office, prints are being rushed from 
the other negatives, hurried through developing and fixing 
baths, given hasty washes, then onto the ferrotype machine 
where the pictures are dried and given a permanent gloss. 
Captions are pasted on hurriedly and then tossed over to the 
mail clerk for distribution to waiting boys to rush them to 
the evening papers and to the Pennsylvania and Grand 
Central stations for train portering. Others are rushed to 
Newark Airport to be air expressed on the earliest possible 
planes to faraway members. 

Washington in the meanwhile has advised that they are 
airexpressing a good layout of the officers of the ill-fated 
ship. A motorcycle man at Newark Airport awaits the 
arrival for speedy despatch back to the office. There a close- 
up of each officer is placed on the copying camera, two on 
one film, and within a few minutes are ready for servicing. 



1 6 GET THAT PICTURE 

The Lakewood correspondent phones that he is porter- 
ing a good batch of pictures he made at the Lakehurst 
hangar, also photographs of enlisted men given to him by 
their families. These are also met by a boy and rushed in 
for printing. 

At noon a battery of cameramen await the arrival of the 
Tucker at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Commander Wiley 
and two enlisted men are brought ashore on stretchers and 
the body of the fourth who died aboard the Phoebus is 
solemnly lowered. The photographers stay to make hos- 
pital shots while boys expedite the first pictures back to the 
offices. 

Through the entire morning and afternoon the office 
is a tumult of action. Every second counts to make the 
necessary planes and trains; hundreds of prints fall off the 
heated ferrotype machine to be snatched up, straightened 
out, captioned and shoved hastily into envelopes. Every 
man and boy has his place, his function. 

Later in the afternoon the other flying cameraman 
phones on his arrival that he had made some shots of a part 
of a dirigible sticking up out of the water off Beach Haven 
on the Jersey coast. He had not known at the time that he 
was "shooting" another tragedy of the search; the small 
dirigible J3 had been torn by the squall and plunged into the 
ocean within sight of hundreds of horrified spectators who 
had lined the shore. The J3 had been ordered from its 
hangar at Lakehurst to join in the search for the Akron. 

Another thrilling chapter in the history of news photog- 
raphy is written by the photographer who had taken off in 
a small boat from Asbury Park. 

Pitched from the peaks of mountainous waves into swirl- 
ing gullies, his tiny craft had been beaten and lashed by the 
waves, threatening to swamp and sink it scores of times. Icy 
waters soaked them to the skins, but he and the skipper kept 
on going with never a thought to imminent disaster. His rigid 



GET THAT PICTURE 17 

fingers still clenched the dripping camera case. The credo 
of the newspaper photographer was fixed in his mind; get 
the picture. That is all that mattered. For hours they 
kept on, scanning the seas in every direction. Waves beat 
the craft mercilessly; a wall of water had crashed the wind- 
shield glass of the open ship into their faces. With blood 
flowing from many cuts, their bodies stiff from cold, and 
soaked through and through, the skipper and cameraman 
were forced to return as darkness slowly crept in. From the 
hotel room he made his report, he was grieved because he 
could find no wreckage to photograph. 

Even the flying Knights of the Camera were unaware of 
the dangers involved in their jobs. Their land planes had 
flown over a large stretch of open sea, through rain and fog 
and mist with only a clearing of weather now and again. It 
would have been foolhardy, even with a seaplane. A sudden 
plunge, and it would have been the end. But the search 
had to go on. The pictures must be taken. 

At the close of the day, a haggard, weary force of 
editors, printers and boys slumped into chairs for a few 
brief moments of rest and a hasty gulping of coffee and 
sandwiches. 

Over a desk stacked with a jumble of papers, clippings, 
photographs and messages, the picture editor scanned a 
wire just received from one of the subscribers. 

"Great work. Beat competitors by half hour on first 
pictures of Akron disaster/' 

He smiled. A scoop. Well, it was worth it. Just then 
the city editor bent over his shoulder with news copy in his 
hand. 

The picture editor was up in a flash. 

"Hey, Jack," he yelled, in the direction of a weary 
cameraman. "Get going, quick. There's a five alarm fire 
on the East River waterfront." 

The Akron disaster was already past history. 



Chapter II. 

THE CAMERA IS BORN AND BECOMES A 
GIANT 

THE picture age is here. Everywhere the man with the 
camera abounds, from the northernmost settlement in 
Alaska down to the tip of Cape Horn. A story of either 
paramount news importance or one with slight feature in- 
terest is covered by the ubiquitous photographer. His lens 
is trained on the passing event, and history is recorded 
with the unfailing eye of the camera. It is the truthful, 
impartial observer. 

The scientist revels in its judgment; the artist thrills 
in its revelations of lights and shadows; the newspaperman 
marvels in its power to portray the event. 

The sweeping beauty of a moon in eclipse is focused 
and caught on the gelatine of a film; the grandeur of the 
Alps buried in snow is a brilliant spectacle of light and 
shadow; a ship is hurled against the rocks; an earthquake 
tumbles the works of man into hideous ruins ; a mother and 
child seek safety in flight from raging flood waters; maidens 
dance beneath a May pole or Magyars strew flowers at a 
holy feast; all the joys and sorrows that beset the world 
are in a flash ensnared by the tiny lens, never to escape. 

The click of the camera is heard around the world. 

Little did Louis Jacques Daguerre struggling with his 
plates and acids in his tiny Paris laboratory in 1839 realize 
that one day his invention would be as mighty as the pen, 
and mightier than the sword. 

For years it remained the toddling infant. A daguerro- 
type manual of 1840 explained that the most rapid ex- 
posure for a white subject in direct Summer sunlight was 



GET THAT PICTURE 19 

four minutes. A vivid contrast to the present day's 
i/2oooth of a second for news work and i/i,ooo,oooth 
of a second in the scientific laboratory! 

Daguerreotype exposures were so long that street scenes 
showed no people; traffic and pedestrians did not remain 
still enough for the lens to record the image. 

Another pioneer in England helped pave the way. While 
Daguerre was working on the method of taking pictures on a 
silver coppered plate, Henry Fox Talbot experimented with 
making pictures on paper. He took fine drawing paper, 
soaked it in a solution of salt and then silver nitrate. This 
process published in 1839 was the only practical one then 
for making direct copies. 

Steadily through the years the technique and the 
methods of reproduction improved. But it was a slow 
and cumbersome process. Still lifes and portraits were the 
vogue. The ladies and gentlemen of the mid-Victorian 
era flocked to the studios to have their likenesses captured 
between frames of gilt and velvet. 

The quality of the photographs was good, but painfully 
slow. It took hours to develop the plates; a longer time 
to fix and dry. Scientists labored on to improve the sensi- 
tizing and developing processes; the subject with his or her 
head held into immobility by a rack hidden from view of 
the camera sat in the chair for what seemed hours long 
while the perspiring photographer fingered his huge plates, 
focused and refocused behind his large black cloth. 

So massive was the equipment used in the early days of 
its growth, that a journeying photographer was forced to 
use a wagon for carrying it. Besides his huge camera and 
plates, there was his glass, collodion, silver nitrate, devel- 
oper, fixative, etc. After flowing his plates with collodion, 
he exposed his subjects from ten to thirty seconds, then 
hurried into a dark compartment for developing. The en- 
tire operation required meticulous handling and care. 



20 GET THAT PICTURE 

During this entire period, the use of the photograph 
for newspaper purposes was unknown. The illustrated 
weeklies such as Leslie's and Harper's in this country, and 
the London Illustrated News and others abroad, used steel 
and copper engravings. The only means of reproduction 
for the black and white dailies were the wood cut and line 
drawing, crude but effective. 

Joseph Pulitzer, the dynamic and enterprising publisher 
of the New York World, realized the value of the news- 
paper illustration as a circulation builder, and he was the 
first to make extensive use of woodcuts. 

The artist's conception of an outstanding personality 
and event was etched on a slab of chalk mounted on a piece 
of wood. Lead was poured into the lines of the sketch 
and the newsprint took the resulting impression. 

Other leading publishers followed suit, and toward the 
end of the century the competition was keen in the publica- 
tion of woodcuts and line drawings. 

The discovery of the halftone engraving process by 
Frederick Eugene Ives, a photographer employed by Cor- 
nell University in 1879, opened the way for the use of the 
photograph as a newspaper reproduction. Still many years 
passed before the perfection of engraving processes en- 
abled the newspaper to publish the first crude news photo- 
graph. It was a slow, uphill climb, but the young giant 
was on his way. 

The first man to write pictorial history in the term of 
news was Matthew Brady, a commercial photographer 
with fine studios in New York and Washington. The Civil 
War was his field of action. His photographs of the con- 
flict, as well as those made by his large staff of assistants, 
are his fine contribution to history. 

After securing official permission to accompany the 
Union Army, he got into action just before the battle of 



GET THAT PICTURE 21 

Bull Run, fought on July 21, 1861. A staff of twenty men, 
employed by him, was hurried into other sectors. 

Operators worked in pairs, one manipulating the camera, 
the other in the dark tent which was mounted on a horse- 
drawn wagon. The huge camera, with its 8 x 10 plates, 
poised on tripod, was then trained on the battlefield, gen- 
erally after the firing had died down and the ground was 
strewn with bodies. The bulky, slow-speed box could 
not catch soldiers charging or engaged in hand to hand 
fighting, as the World War cameras later portrayed, but 
still the job was almost as dangerous. 

Working as they did, they were openly exposed to enemy 
fire as the slow wet plate caught the scene for perpetuity. 
Fragments of shell often shattered their cameras. 

One of Brady's assistants, J. F. Coonley, was taking/ 
a picture of a Union bridge when a body of Confederate 
cavalry surprised him at his work. They opened fire but 
Coonley completed his job, then dashed for the engine 
and train assigned to him for the task. 

One of Brady's scenes, called "Harvest of Death," 
showing the bodies of soldiers strewn on the battlefield, 
was widely circulated and attracted considerable attention. 
On seeing this and other war photographs taken at the 
time, Oliver Wendell Holmes, the famous poet, remarked: 
"The sight of these pictures is a commentary on civilization 
such as a savage might well triumph to show its mission- 



aries." 



The photograph was already impressing mankind in 
its revulsion to the bestial savagery of war. 

At a later date, the World War pictorial record was to 
be shown to the world to reveal horror and brutality where 
the magic of the word had failed to impress. The lens 
had stripped warfare of its glamor. 

It was unfortunate that the newspaper was unequipped 
to reproduce these war scenes. It is true that thousands 



22 GET THAT PICTURE 

of prints were distributed for sale (Brady had to realize 
some return for the thousands of dollars he invested in 
this venture), and that many found their way into the 
illustrated weeklies, but the moral effect would have been 
the greater had the avid readers of the dailies, scanning 
the latest war news, seen these stark portrayals of the 
fighting fronts. 

Many of Brady's pictures were made in duplicate and 
triplicate. 

But his venture, the first into the realm of big news, 
was a financial failure. One of his creditors acquired one 
of the sets of negatives. He placed another set in storage, 
but in 1873 he was forced to auction these when he was 
unable to pay his storage bill. The War Department was 
the purchaser. 

Only through the untiring efforts of General Banjamin 
F. Butler and James A. Garfield, later President, was Brady 
given national recognition and an appropriation of $25,000 
was finally voted as payment for his collection. 

At the present time there are in the care of the Army 
Pictorial Service, a branch of the Signal Corps of the 
United States Army. There are over 6,000 negatives in the 
files. 

The duplicate set was virtually forgotten for many 
years. Carelessly handled, many of the plates were cracked 
and broken. Finally rediscovered, they were reproduced 
in a ten-volume publication in 1911, called the "Photographic 
History of the Civil War." 

The news photographer had for the first time carved a 
niche in history's hall of fame. Brady, the commercial 
photographer, is remembered as the news photographer. 

For a long period following the close of the Civil War, 
there was little improvement in photography, although 
much research was done in the laboratories. It was the age 
of the familiar tintypes. 



GET THAT PICTURE 23 

The photographer still coated his glass with collodion, 
obtained by dissolving nitro-cotton in a mixture of ether 
and alcohol, immersed it in a solution of silver nitrate and 
then placed in the camera still wet. After the exposure, 
it had to be developed and fixed on the spot. 

The spurt came when silver bromide came into use as a 
sensitizing agent and dry plates came into usage with the 
work of Bennett in 1879. 

In 1880, George Eastman put his dry plate on the 
market. Eight years later he introduced to the public the 
first camera which did not have to be supported by a table 
or tripod. It was his famous Kodak. The camera was 
able to take 100 exposures on bromide paper, but the 
purchaser was forced to return the camera with the ex- 
posed paper to Eastman's Rochester plant to be unloaded 
and developed. The paper was later replaced by celluloid, 
followed by his "daylight loading cartridges." The 
camera's compactness and reasonable cost appealed to the 
public. 

The man on the street was now beginning to learn and 
enjoy the art of photography. 

Pictures in newspapers were in demand. Pulitzer filled 
his morning and evening World with the crude woodcuts and 
line cuts made from drawings. William Randolph Hearst 
did the same with his morning and evening Journal. The 
battle of the rival giants was on. Circulation figures leaped 
ahead. The Spanish-American War boosted the use 
of pictures and the circulation of the rival papers leaped 
forward. 

It was not until the turn of the century when photo- 
engraving was introduced that the first photographs were 
used as newspaper illustrations. The woodcuts and linecuts 
were discarded and the first crude photographs made their 
appearance in the dailies. 

The illustrated weeklies thrived. The enterprise of 



24 GET THAT PICTURE 

Robert J. Collier accounted for the immediate success of a 
new weekly he started about the time of the outbreak of the 
Spanish-American War. He sent James Henry Hare, 
soldier of fortune, war correspondent and photographer, 
to Cuba to cover the short-lived conflict. One of his war 
pictures, the shattered battleship Maine in the harbor of 
Havana, won world acclaim. 

Pictures had helped Collier to fame and fortune. 

In the early i9Oo's, the first picture syndicates were 
started, first Bain's, then American Press, followed by 
Underwood and Underwood and others. In those years 
the press photographer used a variety of 8 x 10 cameras, 
bulky and tricky to manipulate. The Graphic and Graflex 
with their fast lenses and shutters had yet to make their 
appearance. 

While Pulitzer and Hearst tilted swords and lifted 
news photographs to front page importance, it remained 
for the genius of English journalism, the late Lord North- 
cliffe to create the first illustrated daily tabloid, the Daily 
Mirror. It proved to be the greatest stimulant to news 
photography, as was later indicated by the mad scramble 
of other English publishers to follow suit. 

In 1903, Lord Northcliffe or known then as Alfred 
Harmsworth before he was knighted, had started the 
Mirror as a women's newspaper. It was written and 
edited by women. The venture was Northcliffe's first fail- 
ure and cost him $500,000. He decided to change it into 
a pictorial tabloid, the first of its kind. The people liked 
pictures. The great success of the Illustrated London 
News and the Graphic, both weeklies, attested to that. 

The London Daily Graphic had been using line drawings 
with moderate success. Northcliffe decided that news pho- 
tographs would win the readers. And it did. 

In went a staff of young men, vigorous and enterprising. 
Photographic and developing departments were started, 




International News Photo 

DEATH TAKES A FLING IN WALL STREET 

The scene at Broad end Wall Streets, in the heart of New York's financial 
district, on September 16, 1920, following: the terrific explosion which killed 
thirty persons and injured more than 300. The blast shattered windows for 
blocks around and threw the financial district into a panic. It was believed 
to have been caused by a time bomb left in a one-horse truck in front of 
the United States Assay Office, across from the J. P. Morgan Building-. 




^ Wide World Photos 

HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE 

Desperately clinging- to the rigging- of their wrecked whaler, the Sohlagen, 
are five members of its crew. Below them are the swirling- waters of the 
South Atlantic which is pounding the craft to pieces as it' lies on the jagged 
rocks of Robben Island off the Cape of Good Hope. Six of the crew lost 
their lives. These five survivors were taken off by means of breeches-buoy 
shortly after this remarkable photograph was taken. 



r friP|j 
* * : < 




New York Daily News from Acme 

BONUS MARCHERS AND POLICE CLASH 

A tense and dramatic scene as bonus veterans, armed with sticks, pipes 
and rocks, grimly fight Washington, D. C., police on an open lot within a 
stone's throw of the nation's Capitol. Five policemen and more than a dozen 
veterans were injured in this fray which took place in summer of 1932. 
Joseph Costa, New York Daily News photographer, braved flying rocks, to 
make this remarkable picture. 




International Newspictures 
PIER COLLAPSE 

The cameraman snapped this remarkable picture the instant this Sydney, 
Australia, pier collapsed, throwing many persons into the water. A boat 
carrying 300 hikers from Newcastle, New South "Wales, had arrived at* 
Sydney. About 30 young persons jumped on to the wharf. The pier gave 
way under their weight. Many had narrow escapes from drowning. 



GET THAT PICTURE 25 

and a staff of photographers were assigned to cover stories 
throughout Great Britain. He engaged correspondent- 
photographers in all parts of the world to rush their first 
and best material to him. 

When the change was made, the Mirror's circulation 
had dropped to 20,000. The new paper, now called the 
Illustrated Mirror, started with a circulation of 60,000 
which soon increased to 100,000. 

Special trains were hired to rush the plates back to 
London; the Mirror bloomed with photographic beats. To 
the four corners of the world went his camera correspond- 
ents. One of them accompanied Colonel Theodore Roose- 
velt on his African hunting trip, and the American pub- 
lishers kept the cables humming with requests for prints. 

The enterprise of the Mirror in despatching a camera- 
man post-haste to the scene of the Messina, Italy, earth- 
quake, proved to be of financial benefit as well. 

The speed with which the photographer hastened to 
the scene and back to London enabled Northcliffe to sell 
duplicate sets of photographs all throughout Europe, even 
including Italian newspapers. He made an $8,000 profit 
on the picture beat. During the Turkish-Italian war, the 
Mirror flourished with photographic scoops. 

In the beginning it was difficult to secure well trained 
cameramen. The field was new and Northcliffe paid those 
he hired salaries that were considered fabulous in compari- 
son with the pay of the average news reporter. Youth saw 
an adventurous and well-paying career in news photography 
and flocked to its standards. 

Northcliffe insisted on good, clean pictures. He was 
a stern censor and allowed no photographs to be published 
that he thought would shock the good taste of the readers. 

An illustration of this was shown in the coverage of the 
Jeffries-Johnson championship fight at Carson City, Nevada. 
The Mirror was spending thousands to have the photo- 



26 GET THAT PICTURE 

graphs rushed back to England, and special editions were 
to be run off. Northcliffe was shown the proof sheets just 
before the paper went to press. 

"Don't print one of those photographs," he shouted to 
the editor. "It is likely to prove offensive to our decent 
women readers." 

The fight pictures were never published. 

For many years Northcliffe tried to interest American 
publishers in the daily tabloid, but the response was cold. 
The American reader likes his full-sized newspaper, he 
was told. The opinion was emphatic that the tabloid would 
never flourish on American soil. 

It remained for many years to pass before Joseph 
Medill Patterson and Robert R. McCormick, publishers of 
the Chicago Tribune, were to start a newspaper which 
later enjoyed the largest circulation in the Western Hemi- 
sphere, the New York Daily News. 

Prior to its appearance as the Illustrated Daily News 
on June 26, 1919, the use of news pictures throughout the 
United States was making a slow but sure progress. Camera 
equipment and photographic facilities were being constantly 
improved. The reflex cameras, such as the Graflex, had 
made their appearance. The lea with its 4 x 6 plates 
was a handy camera enjoyed by the early news photogra- 
phers. The shutter speeds were being constantly pushed 
upward. Pictures could be taken under all conditions. 

Hearst had already made his name as a pioneer of news 
pictures and encouraged his editors in the fast shipment 
of pictures for first publication. He had astounded the staid 
conservatives by chartering a special train to rush the 
Jeffries-Johnson pictures from Carson City, Nevada, to his 
San Francisco publication and beat the opposition by so 
many hours that they could not use them. 

In 1913 the late Adolph Ochs, publisher of the New 
York Times, while abroad, investigated German develop- 



GET THAT PICTURE 27 

ments in rotogravure. He ordered two presses to be ship- 
ped to this country. 

Early in 1914, the first rotogravure supplement in the 
United States made its appearance in the New York Times. 
It contained reproductions of paintings for the Altman 
collection. From that day on, the Sunday circulation, then 
lagging far behind the daily totals, had gained a solid 
100,000, and rotogravure was on its way. 

Under the able management of the late William Henry 
Field, the Illustrated Daily News, later changed to The 
News, New York's Picture Newspaper, advanced steadily 
in prestige and circulation. After a short lapse when the 
circulation dropped, the first 100,000 was reached in De- 
cember, 1919, climbing steadily upward, until in December, 
1925, the daily issue averaged more than one million. 

When the short lapse of a decreasing circulation oc- 
curred, the "I told you so's" beamed. Of course, the tabloid 
could not take hold in America. But the newspaper was 
then on spindly, toddling legs. It was seeking a way out 
of the experimental stage. When the novelty wore off, and 
the paper was being published on its merits, the public 
realized that it had been founded as a lasting institution, and 
the circulation leaped ahead. 

The subway riders enjoyed its handy size, as well as 
its pictures and features, and the News out of its experi- 
mental stage had come to stay. 

The managing editor was Philip Payne, a robust New 
Jersey newspaperman, with a keen sense for the news in 
pictures; the photographers, almost as many in number 
as the reporters, covered the local events with their trusty 
leas. Continual experimentation went on; the darkrooms 
were improved, close attention was given to the quality 
and make-up of the pictures; the News developed a photo- 
engraving process of its own which in fine results had no 
equal. 



28 GET THAT PICTURE 

At the close of 1921, the News, together with its parent 
paper, the Chicago Tribune, started the Pacific and Atlantic 
Photo Syndicate, and within a short while 1500 photogra- 
pher-correspondents the world over were sending in their 
masterpieces of news and features. 

Other picture syndicates had already made their start; 
Hearst with his International News Photos, the New York 
Times with the Wide World Photos, starting in 1919 
with a staff of six to emerge soon with hundreds of corres- 
pondents in every corner of the world; the Newspaper 
Enterprise Association, started by the Scripps-Howard 
combination, later to become the Acme News Photos and 
another leader in the picture-gathering business. In 1926, 
the Associated Press, then primarily a news gathering 
organization, turned its attention to the importance of 
news pictures and inaugurated the Associated Press Photos. 

The success of the Daily News boomed the news pic- 
ture as a powerful circulation builder, and picture tabloids 
sprung up in all parts of the country. Even those pub- 
lishers who had been loathe to change format and policy 
swung with the demand and opened their pages to news 
photographs. They built their own photo-engraving plants, 
subscribed to one of the large syndicates, hired a staff of 
photographers, built darkrooms and bought equipment. 
Many publishers, to get the best results possible, subscribed 
to all the leading syndicates so that they could reap the 
benefits of periodical scoops. Still others added the roto- 
gravure supplement to their Sunday editions. 

With competition keen, and demand intensified, the 
keynote of the syndicates and newspapers became Speed, 
more Speed. The newspapers employed their own staff 
of cameramen to cover local news; the syndicates opened 
bureaus in the key cities, staff photographers were on the 
job from coast to coast. Able, free-lance photographers 
in the smaller cities and outlying districts were encouraged 



GET THAT PICTURE 29 

by the syndicate to send in their material, and were well 
paid for their efforts. 

Hundreds of the smaller dailies, weeklies and semi- 
weeklies contracted for the mat services built up by the 
syndicates. For a nominal price, the picture page, in 
matrix form, would be received by the smaller newspaper, 
all prepared for only the casting. 

Within a short time after its occurrence, a major news 
story would have its pictorial reproduction scanned over 
the breakfast table of every resident from Maine to Cali- 
fornia. 

Mrs. Vincent Astor at a Newport horse show or bask- 
ing in the Palm Beach sun; the Prince of Wales attending 
an official function or jumping the hurdles on his favorite 
horse; the ascetic Mahatma Ghandi in his simple linen 
cloth and Billy Sunday storming at the unregenerate, be- 
came as fully familiar in every expression of look and eye 
as the local deacon or groceryman. 

Cables and wires were speeding the news; the ships 
and planes and trains were bringing the pictures. 

Chartering planes to expedite the news picture became 
an everyday occurrence; even with the first airmail and 
later expansion of routes, the syndicates turned to the fast- 
est means of conveyance to get the first picture in on a big 
story. 

Photographic laboratories turned scientific experiments 
into successes to meet the ever increasing demand for better 
and speedier products. Larger and faster lenses were built 
to cope with poor light conditions and stop the speediest 
action. Fast emulsion plates were put on the market. Pan- 
chromatic and infra-red negatives were manufactured to 
overcome atmospheric conditions. Development of acces- 
sory equipment, as light meters,, range finders, filters and 
synchronizers, were reaching their highest peak. 

The trend of equipment was toward compactness and 



30 GET THAT PICTURE 

simplification. The three-foot spread pan with the dan- 
gerous magnesium powder evolved into the safe and handy 
photo flash bulb; the bulky 8 x 10 negatives decreased in 
size, first to 6 x 8|, then to 5 x 7, still smaller to 4 x 6, 
then to 4 x 5, and finally down to 3J x 4. Huge cameras 
were discarded in favor of a sturdy and compact Graphic 
and Graflex, and then the miniature Contax and Leica to 
snap the intimate and informal. 

The newspaper photographer has also developed 
through the years into a staunch and reliable pillar of the 
press. In the beginning he was ofttimes ignored and avoided 
by the reporter, and looked down upon as a nuisance and 
interloper. True, the early type was often rude and brusque, 
but the rudeness and brusqueness was born of necessity 
and the flare-up of the underdog. He had to push himself 
into unwanted places and situations. The public was aloof 
to the cameraman and the notables felt it was a breach of 
decorum to pose for him. 

Today the photographer is on the same plane with the 
reporter. On most stories the men plan together, work as 
one unit. The publisher has seen fit that the newspaper's 
photographic staff is given as much care and attention as 
his reportorial force. Through grit and courage, loyalty 
and self-sacrifice, the Knight of the Camera has gained 
his deserved laurels. 

The constant desire to get the first and best possible 
pictures on a story has led to many startling changes in 
transportation. Planes and trains were chartered fre- 
quently, and even speedboat and dog-sled and motorcycle 
were used to bring in the first pack of negatives. 

The following illustration of coverage on a big story 
is typical of the many of the time. 

Gunnar Kasson had made front page history with his 
dash across the frozen Alaskan snows with dog team bear- 



GET THAT PICTURE 31 

ing serum to diphtheria-stricken Nome. It saved thousands 
of lives. 

The pictures of the arrival made by a Nome photo- 
grapher-correspondent for a big syndicate were turned over 
to a Captain Hegness who rushed 870 miles from Nome 
to Nenana in a record trip by dog-sled, traveling 18 hours 
a day. At Nenana, Hegness boarded a train leaving for 
Seward, 400 miles distant. At Seward, the steamship 
Alaska was waiting, steam up, and a bundle of plates was 
turned over to the captain. In Seattle, 1300 miles south, 
the coast representative of the syndicate, started north with 
a seaplane. At Cape Jazon, 300 miles north of Seattle, 
he put out in a speedboat and received the plates, heavily 
wrapped in oilcloth, as they were lowered over the side 
of the ship. Fifteen minutes later, he was speeding back 
to Seattle, arriving there 15 hours before the steamship 
Alaska. From Seattle the pictures were printed and dis- 
tributed. A southbound plane was chartered to fly the pic- 
tures to the California members, another was started east 
with prints and negatives for the Central and Eastern 
bureaus and subscribers. It was a grand scoop. 

As speed became more and more essential, experiments 
were being conducted in many quarters to transmit picture 
by wire, utilizing the telephonic and telegraphic wires. In 
1921, the New York World successfully transmitted the 
picture of an Indian head to the St. Louis Post Dispatch, 
using a telephone circuit. In 1923, the first telegraphed 
picture of the Japanese earthquake was sent from Seattle 
to Los Angeles, Chicago and New York. The following 
year, the American Telephone and Telegraph Company 
demonstrated their first pictures of the Republican Conven- 
tion in Cleveland in a test of telephone wire transmission. 
In December of the same year, the Radio Corporation 
of America gave a public demonstration of picture trans- 
mission by radio from England to America. Likewise in 



32 GET THAT PICTURE 

Europe wired transmission of pictures was taking a firm 
hold. 

A new era in picture gathering and reproduction had 
been opened. It meant that a picture could be received 
at the newspaper's offices with almost the same speed as 
the descriptive story; it broadened and accelerated the 
development of pictorial journalism. The managing editor 
shouted with the same gusto for the picture as for the 
story, whether it broke on his back lots or in the Chinese 
hinterland. 

The camera had become a powerful giant in the field 
of journalism. 

And he is still growing! 



Chapter III. 

THE TRAIN, PLANE, PIGEON, WIRE AND RADIO 
CARRY THE PICTURE 

From the first days of the news picture, the newspapers 
and picture syndicates have utilized every means of convey- 
ance to bring the reproduction of the event before the eyes 
of the reader: from the interior of China the donkey and 
jinrikishaw have brought the flood and famine pictures; the 
carrier pigeon carried the film in Japan; native runners 
brought the pictures from the jungle interiors; dog sleds 
bore the negatives from the Arctic wastes; every known 
vehicle in Europe and America has expedited the photo- 
graph, the automobile, train, speedboat, airplane, dirigible, 
motorcycle, until man turned to the laboratory and found 
a miracle in the radio and telephone wire to span the leagues 
in a lightning leap and carry the picture with the speed of a 
dot and dash and a wired conversation. 

In the beginning, the picture languished far behind the 
news story; days, weeks, and even a month or two would 
elapse before the reader would be presented with the illus- 
tration. Today we are presented with the ultima in speed; 
a picture can be snapped in the forests of the Tyrol and in 
several hours the readers of Los Angeles will be presented 
with a newspaper reproduction, literally, before the story 
breaks, for there will be about a ten hour difference in time. 

Editors blinked and rubbed their eyes when the late 
Lord Northcliffe ordered his photographer to charter a 
vessel, the only one obtainable in Italian waters, to carry 
him to Tripoli to cover the start of hostilities between Tur- 
key and Italy, and when he docked startled a cab driver by 
shouting: "Drive me to the battlefield!" It was setting 



34 GET THAT PICTURE 

historic precedent, and the newspaper world gasped still 
more when the London Daily Mirror carried the first and 
exclusive pictures of the conflict. It was something new, 
startling in the world of newspapers, and when the circula- 
tion of the Mirror leaped higher and higher with North- 
cliffe's successive picture scoops, the publishers realized then 
and there that they would have to follow the dazzling pace 
set by the great genius of Fleet Street. Chartering ships 
and trains became a commonplace in the field of news pho- 
tography. Speed, speed more speed became the shib- 
boleth and battle cry of a score of editors. 

Into the far corners of the world went the man with the 
camera, using the fastest means of conveyance to get to and 
from the scene of the story. It was the day of the ship 
and train; the airplane had yet to make its appearance. By 
ship and train the cameraman hurried to the battlefields of 
the Balkan Wars; and even Northcliffe had earlier dispatch- 
ed a photographer from far-off London to cover the gold 
rush in the Yukon. Distances mattered not; it was the 
slogan of the editor then, as it is today: "Get the picture! 
And bring it back first!" 

When William Randolph Hearst in this country char- 
tered a special train to carry the first pictures of the Wil- 
lard-Johnson fight in Carson City, Nevada, to his paper in 
San Francisco for a clean beat of a day or more, he was 
creating a new epoch in pictorial journalism in this country; 
and it was not long before other publishers and editors took 
up the challenge and initiated a rivalry which still holds 
until this day. 

The problems for the syndicate and newspaper editors 
became a bit more involved, complex. It became not alone 
their duty to utilize the best and fastest cameras and para- 
phernalia, the speeding up of printing and engraving meth- 
ods, but it was their task to establish the best and fastest 
media for getting the cameraman to the scene and back with 



GET THAT PICTURE 35 

the pictures to the office. Placing the pictures in the mail, 
with a special delivery stamp attached, was too ordinary, 
too regular a procedure. The editor could not afford to sit 
back in his swivel chair and wait for the arrival of the post- 
man. 

The syndicate took up a new weapon. A cameraman in 
a distant city had taken some spot news pictures. How to 
get them back pronto? Why not give the package of films 
or prints to a passenger or train employe? It would mean 
a saving of several or more hours, so the trick was done. 
The cameraman would entrust the pictures to the passenger 
or employe, and then phone or wire the office that such and 
such a party in a certain car would arrive at the station at a 
certain time, and the syndicate or newspaper representative 
would be at the station to pick up the package. But great 
care had to be exercised that a rival paper or syndicate 
would not pick up the package by "mistake." Train sched- 
ules were figured very carefully by the editor, and on many 
occasions time would be saved by rerouting a package from 
a distant city on several different lines. Also, many min- 
utes would be saved by meeting the train at a suburban 
point, and rushing the pictures in by motorcycle. It became 
a favorite stunt for New York syndicate editors to dis- 
patch a motorcycle man to Manhattan Transfer on the out- 
skirts of Newark to pick up a package on the Pennsylvania 
system. The motorcyclist would be back in the office, espe- 
cially if it were located in the Park Row district, at the time 
the train was pulling into Pennsylvania Station further up- 
town. The ten minute saving meant that a beat could be 
established; the sales of the picture added to the syndicate's 
coffers; to the newspaper it might mean the making of an 
edition. 

The early planes were still too costly a proposition ex- 
cept on very outstanding stories, and then, the syndiqate 
would not hesitate to hire the best available pilots and the 



36 GET THAT PICTURE 

speediest planes, spending thousands of dollars to bring in 
the first pictures. 

There were more thrills in the airplane race from Shelby, 
Montana, to bring in the first pictures of the Jack Dempsey- 
Tommy Gibbons fight on July 4, 1923, then there was in the 
long-drawn out battle between the ring gladiators. Eleven 
planes competed in the race. Torrential rains and fierce 
winds held no terrors for the doughty fliers, and when one 
was forced down, another plane was in readiness to pick up 
the plates and carry on. Editors in the home offices were 
glued to the phones, missing their meals and sleep, keeping 
in touch with the distant points, ready to hire automobiles 
and fresh planes to keep up the gruelling pace. The pilots, 
too, reckless in their defiance of the elements, for the planes 
in those days were mere frameworks of body, wing and 
wire, felt the cry and surge of battle and refused to quit, 
keeping on until every ounce of energy was spent. Many of 
them staggered out of their cockpits on the completion of a 
relay, haggard, famished, punch-drunk, as though they 
themselves had partaken in the Shelby "battle of the cen- 
tury." The storm king high above the clouds came near 
giving them the knockout punch in many a rain-swept corner. 

Well lighted fields were scarce. The airmail service had 
just about started. The country could not boast of more 
than a half dozen good airports with decent runways. The 
pilot as well as the editor and cameraman who sometimes 
climbed aboard with him all took their lives in their hands 
when a delivery of pictures had to be made. Many a flight 
started and ended in a field and meadow. Flares on an open 
field were the only light to guide the starting or the oncom- 
ing plane. When Wesley Smith took off from the grassy 
field at Van Cortlandt Park in New York City on the night 
of September 14, 1923, to carry the pictures of the Demp- 
sey-Firpo fight at the Polo Grounds to a Cleveland syndicate 
bureau, flares held by two men and a swinging lantern held 



GET THAT PICTURE 37 

by a third was the only light available to give Smith his di- 
rections for a most thrilling takeoff. His time of seven 
hours in landing safely at a Cleveland field through a lane 
of flares was considered a marvelous feat in those days. 
Today the same distance is traversed in about two hours by 
one of our high-speed commercial Goliaths of the air. 

When blizzards, thick fog and terrific rainstorms made 
it absolutely impossible for the pilots to venture into the air, 
the syndicate would often resort to the chartered train to 
carry the pictures. In that event, an entire car would be 
set up with darkroom, printing facilities, and tables and 
typewriter for the sorting and captioning of the finished 
prints, all ready for instant delivery the moment the train 
would pull in at the station. While the two or three car 
train swayed and lurched, the employees would calmly go 
through all their duties of turning out the pictures as if 
they were back in their own offices. In one trip from Wash- 
ington to New York in 1925, the special train hired by a 
New York syndicate to develop and print the Coolidge in- 
auguration pictures made the 226 mile trip in three hours, 
and 40^ minutes, clipping nearly two hours from the ordi- 
nary running time. 

On another occasion, a Boston newspaper frantically de- 
manded the pictures of the Dempsey-Tunney fight in Phila- 
delphia. The weather was terrible. Not a plane could 
take off. The enterprising Boston paper wanted the pic- 
tures for their final edition. The negatives were already in 
New York. How could the pictures be sent to Boston in 
time ? Finally, the syndicate in New York arranged the hire 
of a special train from New York to Boston at a cost of 
$1,000. The two-car train plunged through the storm of 
the night with a clear right of way, and the pictures were 
developed and printed enroute. The train broke all speed 
records between New York and Boston, thundering along 
the wet rails at nearly a hundred-mile-an-hour speed. The 



38 GET THAT PICTURE 

Boston morning newspaper got their pictures and made their 
last edition for a clean scoop over all rivals. 

The extension of the air mail routes to all parts of the 
country and the inauguration of the air express service in 
1927 helped speed up the transportation of the news pic- 
tures, and today, thousands of pictures are being sent daily 
by this system. Faster commercial planes in the airmail 
services are continually cutting down the running time, and 
where it formally took 30 hours for the transportation of 
a picture from New York to Los Angeles by air, the same 
distance is covered in only 15 hours. There is hardly a city 
of any size in the country that is not linked to the airmail 
network, and the editor, with the assistance of the airmail 
guide, is able to reckon closely on the time he can expect 
pictures from a point where a news story has broken, or the 
time a member newspaper can expect to receive pictures 
which have been syndicated. 

But in spite of the efficient service rendered by the air- 
mail and airexpress, the syndicates still charter the plane 
on extraordinary occasions, not alone to make the invaluable 
airviews and transport the photographer to the scene of the 
story, but also to bring the pictures into the office and assist 
in wire transmission. In the recent New London, Texas, 
school-house disaster, in which 455 children and teachers 
perished, an airplane was chartered to fly from Dallas to 
Tyler, fifteen miles from the scene of the catastrophe, pick 
up prints which a free lance photographer had made, and 
continue on to Memphis, Tennessee, to meet another plane 
sent from St. Louis carrying a syndicate bureau manager 
with a portable wired photo transmitter, and then transmit 
the pictures direct to receiving points in various parts of the 
country. 

Bureau managers are constantly expediting news pictures 
to various other points by air express, and immediately 
after shipping in such manner, they wire or phone the office 



GET THAT PICTURE 39 

that such and such pictures are due to arrive on a certain 
line and a certain time, even giving the waybill number. A 
motorcycle boy is then sent to the airport to pick up the 
package. Such procedure in meeting the planes often results 
in the saving of at least a half hour or more which is con- 
siderable, from a newspaper editor's standpoint. 

From the earliest days till the present, the plane has 
been a reliable carrier of the news picture, and the picture 
syndicate has never failed to rely upon it in time of need. 
A notable scoop with the aid of a plane was the first arrival 
of the pictures showing Gertrude Ederle's swim across the 
English Channel in August, 1926. A package of pictures 
was dropped from a ship at the mouth of the St. Lawrence 
River, picked up by a waiting seaplane, and then brought to 
New York in a record-breaking four-plane relay, battling 
through dense fogs and terrific electric storms to give the 
syndicate a 24-hour beat. Through the continent's worst 
flying region, a New York syndicate in July, 1933, sent a 
plane to Cartwright, Labrador, 1500 miles away, to make 
the pictures of the first landing on American soil of the 
Italian air armada of 24 planes led by General Italo Balbo. 
It set a new record in aerial trips especially to make pic- 
tures* In 1931, a chartered plane made a non-stop flight 
from Managua, Nicaragua, to New York, carrying the first 
pictures of the earthquake disaster which killed 1000 per- 
sons, and resulted in a great scoop for the syndicate. 

From the day a ship carried a London Daily Mirror 
photographer to the scene of the Messina, Italy, earth- 
quake in 1908, to make the first pictures of the catastrophe 
which resulted in the deaths of many thousands, the steam- 
ship has figured in the thrilling annals of picture history. 
Over the vast stretches of the Atlantic and the Pacific, long 
before the dirigible and the clipper planes spanned the 
waters, the syndicates have depended on the fast greyhounds 



40 GET THAT PICTURE 

of the sea to bring in the news photographs from the other 
continents. 

In spite of the occasional outstanding news picture sent 
by radio from Europe to America, the large liners are con- 
stantly bringing in the bulky packages filled with the best 
of Europe's news and feature offerings. The pursers are en- 
trusted with the packages, and after a survey by the customs 
men at Quarantine for payment of duty, the pictures are 
turned over to the syndicate's cameraman who has boarded 
the ship from the government cutter. 

Even this time saving method has not been found to be 
fast enough on many occasions. A terrible disaster will 
have occurred in a European country, costing hundreds of 
lives. A syndicate here will wish to achieve a scoop over its 
rivals. A radio message will be sent to the London manager 
of the syndicate that the pictures will be picked up by sea- 
plane off the American coast. A cooper aboard the ship 
will make a fairly large sized barrel, place the pictures in- 
side, and then solder the sides to make it waterproof. About 
one hundred miles off the coast, as a seaplane looms in the 
distance, the barrel is thrown overboard. The plane care- 
fully descends on the swells, lashes the barrel to the pon- 
toons, and pulls it in. The top is forcibly taken off and the 
pictures removed. After some difficulty, the plane arises 
and is off for the airport nearest the office. Another device 
is also used. The syndicate will arrange for the purchase of 
a life preserver, attach a sealed can with the pictures en- 
closed, and throw it into the water for the pickup by the 
plane. 

The dirigible Hindenburg was called into service by a 
syndicate to bring in the first pictures of the 1936 Olympics. 
A radio message was sent to the skipper to arrange for the 
attachment of the pictures to a parachute to be thrown over- 
board on its appearance over Lakehurst, New Jersey. The 
syndicate arranged for the presence of a customs man to 



m* 

an 



**&': 



R 




International Xewspictures 

CHARGING AT THE PHOTOGRAPHER 

Death was the price paid for this picture at Morgan Hill, California. Dr. 
Garruccio, attracted by the picturesque burro outfit and its aged prospector 
owner, snapped this photograph. Peter Voiss, the aged prospector, is shown 
leaping with rage as he runs toward the cameraman. A few second after 
snapping this picture, Dr. Garruccio was fatally wounded by a charge of 
buckshot. Authorities developed the film and took Voiss into custody. 




Acme Newsplctures 
A BREATHLESS MOMENT 

Immediately after this remarkable picture was taken, the East Indian leopard 
sprang upon his trainer, Albert Allcorn. But Olga Celeste, another animal 
trainer, grabbed a club and drove off the animal, saving Allcorn from serious 

injury. 




Acme Newspictures 
HEADING FOR THE CAMERA 

A remarkable photograph of horses tearing down the home stretch on a 
Long Island race track, taken by Charles Brinkman, a Pacific and Atlantic 
Photos staff cameraman. He crawled under the rail and flung himself on 
the ground to point his camera toward the charging horses, escaping only 
by a few scant inches from being struck by the flying hoofs. 



GET THAT PICTURE 41 

check the contents for duty payment. At daybreak the giant 
airship swung over the Lakehurst hangar; the package was 
dropped and picked up. For six hours the dirigible was un- 
able to land because of unfavorable winds, and the syndi- 
cate was able to beat its rivals all over the country. 

The motorcycle is a favorite means of fast conveyance 
in and around the city. Every large syndicate has two or 
three motorcycle drivers, and on big stories, such as cham- 
pionship fights where plans are carefully made in advance, 
as many as five or six extra motorcycle men will be hired. 
Through the dense street traffic the motorcyclist will flash 
in and out bringing in the first undeveloped plates from the 
fight or the world's series games, making as many as a half 
dozen trips to and from the stadium. It is a common sight 
to see as many as a dozen motorcycles bunched outside a 
fight arena, with riders at the handlebars, all ready to dash 
off the minute a boy brings out the precious bundle of plates. 
Others will bring prints later to the local newspapers, and 
still others will streak to Newark Airport, 14 miles away, 
to place the bundles of prints aboard the waiting planes. 
One night, a motorcyclist, with a clear right of way, made 
the distance in 14% minutes, just in time to make the plane. 
He had never thought he could make it, but like the rest of 
the men in the picture game who always try for success 
though the odds are against them, decided to make the at- 
tempt and he succeeded. Many of these brave fellows have 
skidded their machines along wet, slippery streets and high- 
ways, always flirting with injury or death, to carry out their 
jobs. There is scarcely a picture syndicate motorcyclist who 
cannot show you marks and bruises on his body, the results 
of accidents. 

One night, a rider employed by a picture syndicate was 
bringing back some undeveloped negatives from the Long 
Island City Bowl where a championship fight was taking 
place. Crossing the Queensboro Bridge at great speed, he 



42 GET THAT PICTURE 

hit a car full on, and was catapulted from his machine, land- 
ing on his head. Barely conscious, he mumbled to the first 
passerby who rushed to his aid: "Quick, get a taxi, and give 
the driver my plates strapped there to the machine. He 
will be paid at the office." He slumped into unconsciousness. 
Another valiant soldier of the picture army! 

In the frozen stretches of the Far North dog teams are 
often used as the fast conveyance to bring the pictures of a 
Amundsen-Ellsworth polar flight or Byrd expedition to a 
waiting ship or plane. Motor boats chugging in and out of 
the Ohio Valley flood waters in the winter of 1937, were a 
frequent sight, bringing cameramen in and out of the other- 
wise inaccessible places. 

In Japan, the carrier pigeons have been used for many 
years to bring in the first news pictures from the rugged 
interiors, and well-equipped pigeon lofts, some housing as 
many as 500 birds, are to be seen on the roofs of such pub- 
lications as the Asahi, the Nichi Nichi and Yomiuri in 
Tokyo and the Asahi in Osaka. They are grey-green birds 
typical of those owned by carrier fanciers in the United 
States, and are capable of making 50 to 150 mile flights, 
sometimes beating an airplane to the office. It is a common 
sight to see a cameraman go out on an assignment in the 
interior carrying a basket with a dozen or more birds, each 
carrier wearing an aluminum leg ring bearing its number 
and name of the newspaper. 

After taking his picture, the cameraman dons a black 
jacket, and under this flowing robe removes the exposed 
film from his holder and loads it into a black rubber cylinder, 
about four inches long and weighing less than an ounce. A 
tiny cap is then screwed tightly on, and the cylinder is then 
wrapped around the bird's neck by means of a rubber band, 
while another rubber band encircles the tail to keep it firmly 
in place. The bird then takes off, never stopping until it 
alights on a desk in the editor's office. From a distance of 



GET THAT PICTURE 43 

50 miles, the pigeon arrives at the office within 40 minutes. 
Another bird is then sent with a duplicate film as protection 
in case an accident overtakes the first carrier. These birds 
are also often used in carrying films from ships at sea. 

The greatest boon to the ever-widening use of the news 
photograph has been the introduction of the radioed and 
wired picture. Picture "messages" are being constantly 
flashed in most parts of the world. Hours, days, even 
weeks, have been cut down to minutes and hours, and the 
publishers, alive to the readers' ever-growing demand for 
the immediate news picture, have subscribed to one service 
or the other which has its own wire transmitting device. 

In the early experimental days, the radio and wire pic- 
tures were crude. Details were hardly recognizable. Some 
looked like wash drawings after the art department's re- 
toucher had finished salvaging what otherwise would have 
been impossible to print. But the spirit of enterprise en- 
couraged the inventors; some processes were tried out for a 
while and then discarded, others were constantly improved 
upon, until today there is hardly a photograph that has been 
wired that does riot compare favorably with the original. 
Even in the more difficult field, the radio, the photographs 
transmitted from London and Buenos Aires to New York 
and back, have taken on the more solid look of an original 
print, and some radioed pictures, with but an added touch 
of the retoucher's brush can scarcely be told from originals. 

The first pictures of the Japanese earthquake in Septem- 
ber, 1923, had been thrown from a Pacific liner near Seattle 
to a waiting plane. An unusual experiment had been plan- 
ned to scoop the country at three vital points : Los Angeles, 
Chicago and New York. A transparent sheet with tiny 
numbered squares was placed over the picture at the sending 
end. Sheets of tiny numbered squares were at the receiving 
ends. The positions and lines of the photograph were tele- 
graphed, as well as the additional data of light and shade to 



44 GET THAT PICTURE 

help the artist fill in the picture at the receiving end. It was 
a long and costly experiment, but the result bore some 
resemblance to the original. 

The following year the American Telephone and Tele- 
graph Company inaugurated a test of its own facsimile 
transmitting machine at the Republican Convention in Cleve- 
land, and the result was a startling one, although it showed 
vertical lines of varying thickness. Three years earlier, the 
New York World, also using a facsimile transmission over 
a telephonic circuit, had successfully transmitted the picture 
of an Indian head from its New York office to the St. Louis 
Post Dispatch, but for some reason or other, the experi- 
ments were later dropped. 

The race in wired pictures was on. 

In New York two inventors, Marvin Ferree and Joseph 
Wissmar, working for a picture syndicate, invented a pro- 
cess called Telepix, and on New Year's Day, 1925, success- 
fully sent a picture of the Notre Dame-Leland Stanford 
University football game from Los Angeles to New York 
and Chicago simultaneously over the Western Union wires. 

All the details of the picture were sent over the telegraph 
wires in telegraphic dots and dashes of various sizes, repre- 
senting all the various tones and shadows of the picture. 
The picture was printed photographically on a metal plate 
and then placed on the cylinder of the machine. As the 
drum revolved, deriving its power from a small electric 
motor, a needle traced over its surface recording all the 
details of the picture, sending its impulses over a telegraphic 
relay to a machine at the receiving end. It was all done 
in daylight. When the picture was finished, it was ready 
for reproduction. Received on a plain piece of paper, it 
could be photographed by a regular copying camera to be 
enlarged or reduced. By simply throwing a small switch, 
the same machine could either transmit or receive. 



GET THAT PICTURE 45 

Though Telepix was syndicated to quite a number of 
cities, the A. T. and T. continued on with their facsimile 
transmission experiments, using a photoelectric cell to trans- 
late light and shadows of the picture into sound impulses 
over the telephone wires and then reconverted into light 
beams. In a test on March 4, 1925, pictures were trans- 
mitted from Washington to New York and San Francisco. 
The test was a decided improvement over its Republican 
Convention experiment the year previous, since the effect 
of the vertical striping was eliminated. 

The powerful A. T. and T. added cities to its list, open- 
ing its commercial service to the public on April 4, 1925. 
It charged $50 for a 5 x 7 transmission from New York 
to Chicago, $100 from New York to San Francisco. Boston 
was added in November of the same year, and later Cleve- 
land and Atlanta. Telepix grew for a while, then languish- 
ed. Facsimile was winning out over the dot and dash 
system. 

For eight years the Telephoto, as the A. T. and T. 
system was called, remained in existence, and the picture 
syndicates made ample use of it. But after sinking $2,000,- 
ooo into the venture, they decided to sell it, and the Associ- 
ated Press grabbed it in 1934. The AP inaugurated their 
service on New Year's Day, 1935, calling it Wirephoto. 
But the other major picture syndicates were alive to the 
virtues of picture transmission by wire, and so the New 
York Times Wide World Photos, International News 
Photos and Acme Newspictures inaugurated their own wire 
picture services, the Wide World its Wired Photos, the 
International its Sound Photos, and Acme its Telephotos. 

The principles underlying each system of transmitting 
pictures by wire remain practically identical. The surface 
of the picture on a revolving drum is scanned methodically 
by a beam of light reflected into a photoelectric cell which 
in turn produces a current on the wire directly proportional 



46 GET THAT PICTURE 

to the light reflected from the varying highlights and shad- 
ows on the picture. The current is amplified and then sent 
over the wire in the form of electric impulses to a receiving 
machine in a distant city. A light valve on the receiver 
transforms the electric impulses back into light of corre- 
sponding intensity, and the process of scanning on an un- 
exposed film wrapped around a revolving drum is repeated. 
The time for transmitting a picture ranges from eight to 
fifteen minutes. 

One of the greatest features of the phototelegraphic 
equipment now in use is the portability of some of the 
machines. One of the portable transmitters, including the 
case in which it is carried, weighs as little as sixty pounds, 
and a photographer or operator can carry it with the ease 
of a suitcase, dashing to the scene of a story by plane, train 
or auto, ready to transmit direct from the scene of action. 
His equipment will also include a portable developing outfit, 
so that he can shoot his pictures, develop, fix and make a 
print on the spot, then go to the nearest telephone, make his 
proper connections, and then get the long distance operator 
to place the call to a receiving point hundreds of miles dis- 
tant, the same he would do were he to make an ordinary 
long distance call. 

For instance, a flash comes into the syndicate office that 
a plane has crashed seventy miles from New York, a few 
miles from an airport. The photographer with his equip- 
ment will dash into a chartered plane and take off for the 
scene. He will snap his picture, develop, fix and print from 
his negative on the spot, go to the airport, wrap his picture 
around the transmitter drum, make his connections on the 
airport telephone and then place his call, say, to a paper in 
Detroit. While his call is going through, he will make the 
necessary dial adjustments, setting his proper range for the 
shadows and highlights of the picture. The phone rings, 
the Detroit receiving operator is ready, and the picture is 



GET THAT PICTURE 47 

then started. Within a half hour after he has had started 
the picture, a finished print is already in the hands of the 
art department for scaling and retouching as any other pic- 
ture, and within a half hour after that be in the newspaper 
on the street, in the hands of the reader. 

The remarkable feature of this marvel of the news 
photographic field is this, that the newspaper can go to press 
with the news picture at about the same time the story is 
being printed. With the development and perfection of 
phototelegraphic equipment, the news picture has set a new 
high standard of reader interest, and its position on the 
newspaper page is as immediate and important as the story 
itself. How remarkable it was for New York readers, 
several thousand miles from the scene, to see the picture of 
the crushed New London, Texas, schoolhouse accompany 
the story the very same night of the disaster to view at 
one glance the terrible details of fallen walls and strewn 
masonry as only a vivid picture can portray, and more 
graphically than the hundreds of words could express. Wire 
transmission of pictures is truly making newspaper history ! 

December, 1924, was another important date in the 
history of news photography. The Radio Corporation ot 
America opened its New York offices to the public for a 
demonstration of a small machine which was able to receive 
a picture "hurled" through the ether, across the Atlantic 
from its offices in Marconi House in London. In less than 
two years, Captain R. H. Ranger, an R. C. A. engineer, had 
developed the remarkable piece of apparatus. 

Like the machine which transmits photographs by wire, 
the photoelectric cell is also employed in the radio device 
to scan the photograph as it rotates on a drum or cylinder. 
The cell transforms the light waves into electrical impulses 
which are transmitted by radio in the same way dots and 
dashes are sent through the ether. The radio impulses are 
caught by a receiving instrument thousands of miles away, 



48 GET THAT PICTURE 

and the picture is made up of a series of tiny dots. Where 
the picture is light the dots are very thin and far apart, 
where there are shadows the dots are darker and closer to- 
gether. Like the wire transmission, the picture is received 
in a dark room, on an unexposed 8 x 10 film wrapped 
around a drum. The only difference between the two 
systems is that the radioed picture is a varying of dots in- 
stead of lines. 

The first spot news picture to be ordered and received 
by a syndicate in this country was transmitted from London 
to New York on March 5, 1925, and showed the body of 
President Ebert of Germany lying in state. It took only 
25 minutes for the actual transmission of the picture. Five 
days later the original of the same photograph reached 
New York on the Aquitania. 

Phototelegraphic equipment is now installed in the prin- 
cipal cities of Europe, so that it is now possible for any 
news story to break anywhere on the Continent, and within 
several hours reach a reader on the West Coast of the 
United States. 

It is possible, at times, on the complete coverage of a 
big story to call into action all the facilities known to man 
for the speedy delivery of the news picture. Dog team 
can speed pictures from the northernmost settlement in 
Alaska, the prints placed on a train to a port city, taken 
aboard a ship to a point near Seattle, picked up by a sea- 
plane, taken to Seattle for a wire transmission to New York, 
radioed to London, and then retransmitted to a newspaper 
in Vienna. 

The scientist, the engineer, the editor, the cameraman, 
are today linked in a united, and ever tireless, effort to 
speed the news photograph to the reader, so that when he 
scans the picture as he reads the accompanying story over 
his breakfast table, he can truthfully exclaim : "This picture 
age is marvelous!" 



Chapter IF. 
THE EDITOR SCANS THE PICTURE 

Two important functions rest with the picture editor of a 
syndicate; the assigning of a photographer to get the 
picture and the selection and servicing of the picture 
to the member newspapers. On a newspaper, the city 
editor will generally assign the photographer whose prints 
will be turned over to the picture editor for selection and 
rnake-up. In both cases, he is the liaison officer between the 
man with the camera and the reader who scans the printed 
subject with either amusement or thrill. 

Let us begin with the day's duties of a syndicate picture 
editor. 

The editor on the early morning shift, called the lobster 
trick, between midnight and eight a.m., calls the attention 
of the day picture editor to several good news stories that 
have broken in the early morning hours: a hotel fire at 
Lakewood, N. J., in which three guests perished, and the 
arrest of a New York bank embezzler at Providence, R. I. 
Correspondent-photographers have been phoned to cover 
the stories and word should be expected momentarily that 
the undeveloped plates are being rushed back by train 
porter from Providence, and by bus driver from Lakewood. 

The day editor then looks over the day assignment 
sheet: three overnight assignments have been handed out 
to staff photographers, the arrival of the liner Queen Mary 
with an interesting list of notables and also a MUST 
on a John R. Massey and his bride, both of Pittsburgh, 
which the Pittsburgh member has wired for coverage; the 
testing of a new type of airplane at Roosevelt Field, Long 



50 GET THAT PICTURE 

Island, (a clipping announcing the test of the new plane 
had been attached to the dated page several weeks in ad- 
vance), and the continuation of the Ross murder trial at 
the courthouse in Long Island City, (Mrs. Ross had shot 
and killed her husband in their spacious Jamaica home). 
The latter story was exciting national interest. There 
was plenty of thrill and drama at the trial including sensa- 
tional disclosures involving several well-known Long Island 
personalities, and only the day previous, the accused wo- 
man's mother had been carried out of the courthouse in a 
shrieking denunciation of the prosecuting attorney. 

It promised a good start for the day's presentation of 
the news in pictures. 

A boy brings in a huge stack of miscellaneous mail, 
envelopes with news and feature pictures from every parr 
of the country. Here is a spectacular shot of a grain ele- 
vator fire in Milwaukee, (the correspondent had attached 
a note that he had duplicated the same picture to the 
Chicago office), also six pictures of a golf match at Pine- 
hurst, N. C., another showing a mother and father with 
their eighteen children ranging in age from six months 
to twenty-two years, another showing a wrecked automobile 
lying astride a railroad crossing at Wilmington, Delaware, 
a head and shoulder shot of a young man who claims to be 
the youngest lawyer in Kansas, a picture of a champion 
girl archer, another interesting shot of a mother bear and 
its cub in the St. Louis Zoo, a negative sent in by a Hunt- 
ington Beach, California, contributor showing six bathing 
beauties frolicking on the sands. Another correspondent 
has forwarded an exclusive shot showing a pretty Spring 
meadow scene with snow-capped Mount Rainier in the 
background. 

The editor scans these with the keen, discriminating 
eye of the expert. He knows at first glance which he will 
accept and which he will reject. 



GET THAT PICTURE 51 

The free lance and correspondent-photographer is an 
important contributor to the syndicate, and usually hail 
from the smaller cities and outlying sections where there 
are no staff cameramen. 

The editor knows that the Milwaukee fire shot had 
been serviced by the Chicago bureau. An early morning 
wire had apprised the New York office of the fact. He 
will thus service only to New York City members and his 
own regional list, to the salesmen and one each for the 
London, Paris and Germany offices. Spectacular American 
fire scenes always find a market abroad. 

He carefully goes through the golf pictures. It is a 
North-South match and shows the winner and runner-up 
receiving their trophies, also an interesting shot of the 
winner on the i8th green. These are the two worth ser- 
vicing throughout the East. The rest he places on his 
secretary's desk with a note attached that two have been 
purchased, and the remainder to be returned. 

Then he turns his attention to the parents with their 
long list of offspring. Always a human interest feature! 
Such large families are an anomaly, (the reader's interest 
will center on the farmer, a poor Louisiana farmer, and his 
wife) . How they flabbergast us with their defi of economic 
facts! It's an immediate purchase. 

The wrecked automobile is a rejection. One killed, 
several hurt. But automobile accidents are so common- 
place, and Wilmington is so far away from the editors at 
Boston, Buffalo and other cities. The immediate news in- 
terest will have vanished by the time it reaches those 
papers. The Boston and Buffalo picture editors will have 
their own local accidents to reproduce. 

The youngest lawyer has a beguiling smile, a nice set of 
teeth and broad pair of shoulders. But the editor rejects 
it without a twitch of conscience. Poor fellow, he's going 
back to Kansas. There's no feature value in a legal Adonis 



52 GET THAT PICTURE 

even if he is the youngest. The correspondent had better 
wait for an attractive Portia. The readers and the editors 
always like the good-looking girl as a page adornment. 
Somehow it smooths the blunt edges of columns of murder 
and fire stories. 

The champion girl archer is a profile shot, the print quite 
flat. The original negative must have been underexposed. 
There's a possibility it may have been accepted had it all 
the perfect tone qualities of a good photograph. Too poor 
for reproduction. Into the rejection file it goes. 

The mother bear and cub is an immediate acceptance. 
An interesting animal picture with perfect tone quality is a 
sure-fire sale. Animals, children and pretty girls head the 
list for feature picture interest. The bathing beauties on 
the beach find a purchaser for the same reason. 

The landscape is bought as a special rotogravure picture 
to be one of ten to twelve exclusive pictures to be serviced 
that week as a roto page layout bearing an advance re- 
lease date. Generally editors of rotogravure supplements 
need from a week to ten days to prepare their Sunday layout. 

The morning papers are carefully searched for any 
picture possibilities and the stories are clipped for reference 
as a guide for the editor, the photographer and the caption 
writer. On page three he finds a story of a penthouse 
dweller atop a midtown skyscraper who is raising cabbages 
as big as bowling balls. Good I A photographer is imme- 
diately sent to the address. The sports page contributes 
two items for coverage : Paddy White, the aspirant for the 
lightweight crown, is training at Stillwell's gymnasium, and 
the Columbia crew is going out for a practice spin on the 
Hudson at five o'clock. Two more jobs for the camera- 
men. A three-year-old musical prodigy has been discovered 
on the East Side and another photographer heads for the 
nearest subway. 

In the meanwhile the wires are clicking off the news 



GET THAT PICTURE 53 

from far and wide. Violence is growing in the Pawtucket, 
Rhode Island, textile strike; a beautiful 1 8-year-old girl 
has been found slain at Wheeling, West Virginia; a well- 
known movie actress has been threatened with blackmail; 
forest fires are raging throughout Washington and Oregon; 
another duststorm sweeps the Texas Panhandle; a con- 
ference of Governors on the relief problem is taking place 
at the various points to expedite good material to the near- 
est bureaus; the Washington manager is reminded to rush 
prints of the conference to the members in those states 
whose Governors are represented; the Boston manager is 
told to send a staff cameraman to Pawtucket by the first 
train and duplicate his negatives to Boston and New York. 

The cables report an attempted assassination of the 
Japanese Premier and a British warship is on its way to 
the Mediterranean in another international crisis. Good 
page one stories ! Pictures of the Premier and the warship 
are taken from the files and serviced. 

On stories of first magnitude, the quality of the print 
for copying and servicing need be only fair as faded lines 
and spots will be strengthened and the dark spaces lightened 
and grayed by the expert hands of the retoucher before it 
is handed over to the engraver. 

If there is no picture of the warship in the files, the 
editor will search Jane's Fighting Ships, a yearbook filled 
with reproductions of warships of every nation. The pic- 
ture of the Japanese Premier will undoubtedly be in the 
files as special attention is always paid to building up the 
files with the leading officials of every nation. It is very 
rare indeed when a syndicate does not have a good recent 
study of the President, Premier or ruler of the leading 
nations. Pictures of prominent men and women in all sta- 
tions of life from the world over are sought for continu- 
ously as good file material to have available when a story 
breaks. Newspapers, as well, are paying more and more 



54 GET THAT PICTURE 

attention to their picture files, and personalities, especially 
those in the limelight, are never discarded. There is al- 
ways the obituary page to illustrate on the announcement 
of death. 

At the moment the picture of the warship is being copied 
for servicing, the negatives of the hotel fire arrive. They 
are immediately turned over to a printer for developing. 
The editor selects the best one or two shots for servicing 
while they are still washing. The first selection shows a 
well exposed general view of the fire at its height, another 
shows one of the injured being treated on the spot. Among 
the discarded ones is a picture of one of the victims, badly 
burned, being carried out. It's too gruesome. Pictures of 
dead persons with very few exceptions are taboo with most 
newspaper publishers. It is the exception and not the rule 
when pictures such as those of Dillinger and Dutch Schultz, 
America's public enemies, in death are exposed to the 
reader. It is a standing rule with many prominent news- 
papers that no pictures of any dead person, no matter what 
the story or circumstance may be can be published. 

Within fifteen minutes after the arrival of the negatives 
in the office, prints of the fire are on their way to the local 
evening newspapers, and by train porter to the New Eng- 
land, New York State, New Jersey and Pennsylvania mem- 
bers to meet afternoon or early evening editions. 

The servicing of every picture requires good judgment 
of news and feature values; the news sense of the editor 
must encompass the required needs of the subscribers from 
coast to coast, as well as those in foreign countries. The 
interest may contract beyond a certain unmarked boundary; 
there may still be an interest alive in Chicago while beyond 
that the editor may pay scant, or even no interest, in the 
story such as the New Jersey fire. There are all kinds of 
imponderables in stories and pictures marked as news. 
Where the wire can tick off a few descriptive phrases with- 



GET THAT PICTURE 55 

out much loss of time and money, the picture syndicates can 
hardly afford to service non-interested subscribers with costly 
prints. 

The syndicate picture editor must therefore weigh his 
servicing carefully before he turns his order over to the 
printer. Is it a small or large hotel? Are there prominent 
names involved? Will the death toll increase? Reader 
and editor interest grows proportionately to the damage 
and toll of life. A three-stick story on page four will be 
swung to a full column on page one when the death toll in 
a hotel disaster will rise from two or three to ten or more. 
The picture editor will scan the latest news developments 
carefully before he puts his final OK on the order sheet. 

Again he must study his picture solely on the merits of 
reader attention. Even if there were no loss of lives, the 
picture may be an unusual one, such as the Milwaukee grain 
elevator fire shot received earlier. If it only shows a few 
wreaths of smoke, he will most certainly limit its service. 
If there are flames shooting through the windows with 
plenty of smoke showing the picture effect will be enhanced, 
and the service will be increased. If the shot had been made 
after the fire is extinguished, the gutted ruins of partially 
remaining walls will have told the story in almost as graphic 
terms as the fire itself, and the picture will be given as much 
attention. In other words, the picture must always convey 
the full impression of the details and significance of the 
story. 

The human interest element must always be considered, 
too. In catastrophes as floods and fires the fate of the vic- 
tims have a stronger appeal to the emotions of the reader 
than the extent of the disaster. The devastating 1937 Ohio 
River floods bore out that fact. Flood waters sweeping up 
to the roofs of homes revealed the magnitude of the 
catastrophe, but the most stirring pictures taken were not 
those of the waters but of the refugees and the heroic men 



56 GET THAT PICTURE 

and women who fought to prevent further toll of life. 
Photographs of a mother, worn from exhaustion, nursing 
her baby in a refugee camp, a boy with^his dog and few 
possessions he managed to save from his submerged home 
shown in the background, a lineup of weary, haggard, dis- 
heveled refugees outside a tent awaiting their handout of 
food, and a string of convicts on a levee helping in the battle 
for life, were the pictorial masterpieces that stirred the 
world. They told the story as no thousands of words could 
have impressed. 

When the picture of the bank embezzler under arrest 
at Providence arrived, there was not much time wasted to 
judge picture or service value. One picture told the story; 
the shot of the embezzler flanked by detectives arriving at 
the court-house sufficed. A distribution to members from 
Maine to Pennsylvania wrote finis to that news story. 

The ship news photographer who covered the arrival of 
the liner Queen Mary brings in several large envelopes 
packed tightly with the cream of Europe's news and feature 
offerings of the past week. The editor searches keenly for 
the spot news which takes immediate precedence : there is 
the wreckage of an Imperial Airways plane which crashed 
near Paris, killing eight passengers; the thrilling rescue of 
a foundering steamer's crew and passengers in the North 
Sea, and Paris riot scenes showing a street battle between 
the Rightists and Leftists in the heart of the French capital. 
Those involving personalities are then selected: Mussolini 
with his arm raised in Roman salute and chin thrust for- 
ward in familiar angle, greeting a Fascist assemblage; Hitler 
reviewing a battalion of troops ; Stalin attending the funeral 
of a confrere in Moscow; Foreign Minister Anthony Eden 
of England leaving 10 Downing Street after an important 
conference with the Prime Minister, and Premier Blum of 
France being interviewed by reporters after another Cabinet 
crisis. 




International News Photo 

FELLED BY AN ASSASSIN'S BULLET 

With blood from his wound seeping- through the white of his shirt, Mayor 
Anton J. Cermak of Chicago is assisted to a car to be rushed to a hospital 
in Miami, Fla., the night of February 15, 1933. The Mayor was struck by 
one of five bullets fired by Guiseppe Zangara in the direction of President 
Roosevelt, and later died in the hospital Zangara was put to death. 




) Wide World Photos 

THE ASSASSINATION OF A MONARCH 

This picture was snapped an instant after Petrus Kalemen had fired a deadly 
hail of lead into the bodies of King Alexander of Jugloslavia and Foreign 
Minister Louis Bartheu of France, at Marseilles, France, in October, 1934. 
Colonel Piollet is striking the assassin with his sabre while police, soldiers 
and citizens rush to seize the assassin. He was slain by the mob. 




Pictures, Inc. 

STRIKE MARCH TURNED INTO BLOODY BATTLEGROUND 
Police hammering- strike demonstrators into submission when they dispersed 
a crowd marching- on an open field near the Republic Steel Corporation plant 
at South Chicago, May 30, 1937. Eleven strike sympathizers were killed. 
This and other pictures taken by news cameramen were studied by members 
of the Senate Civil Liberties Committee in effort to fix responsibility for 

the killings. 




Wide World Photos 
ATTACKING A CIO OFFICIAL 

Ford Company special policemen piling- into CIO organizer Richard T. 
Frankensteen on the bridg-e near the Ford plant at Dearborn, Michigan, 
May 26, 1937, following- an attempt of the United Auto Workers Union to 
distribute leaflets to the workers leaving- the plant. Frankensteen was 
brutally beaten. The news photographers were the next target; many had 
their cameras, plates and holders broken, and others forced to flee beyond 

the city limits. 



GET THAT PICTURE 57 

There are six duplicate sets of these outstanding photo- 
graphs. One set is immediately copied for servicing, an- 
other given to the mat editor for his page of pictures, an- 
other set is rushed by motorcycle boy to Newark Airport 
to be sent by plane to the Chicago bureau for western distri- 
bution, and the remaining sets are given to salesmen to sell 
to the newspapers for either daily or Sunday rotogravure 
use. 

Competition in foreign coverage is keen. There are few 
stories breaking in European countries that are not covered 
by the news photographer. The number of picture syndi- 
cates, especially in England, far outnumber those in this 
country. It is a continual race to make the first and fastest 
liner back to America, and the pursers are swamped with the 
bulging envelopes entrusted to them for delivery to an ac- 
credited representative of the American syndicate. 

Scattered among these spot news pictures are a mis- 
cellany of interesting photographs, scenes and personalities 
from many lands : an English peer and his bride leaving an 
historic London church, a iO5-year-old Scotch woman smok- 
ing her pipe, a Hollywood beauty kissing the Blarney Stone, 
a Normandy festival, an American Congressman and his 
wife vacationing in the French Riviera, a new type of motor- 
boat spinning along on the waters of the Thames about 
ten of these are laid aside for servicing as soon as the spot 
news pictures will have been copied, printed and distributed. 
In a few days they will have made their appearance in the 
large dailies, a week or two later in many of the nation's 
seventy Sunday rotogravure supplements. 

From the fjords of Norway to the burning sands of the 
Sahara the tiny eye of the camera is trained on the Old 
World, and the ways of prince and peasant, premier and 
dictator become familiar symbols to the American reader. 
However, all pictures are not made available. The censor 
in many countries determines what should be published; the 



58 GET THAT PICTURE 

official distributor is a government agency prepared to keep 
from the public anything they deem detrimental to their own 
interests. The news becomes the propaganda, but the pic- 
ture syndicate has no choice other than to accept the gov- 
ernment's handout and give it world distribution. The 
reader is left to decide what is real news and what is 
propaganda. 

From these photographs gathered from all parts of the 
Old World, the readers Jin America are daily presented with 
the shifting scenes and personalities; the European setting 
is no strange and mysterious other world whose characters 
are delineated by the imagination. We can almost see 
Stalin and Hitler and Mussolini in the flesh as the camera 
reveals their grimaces and characterizations. We can see 
the Spanish soldier and the Russian worker, the London 
shopkeeper and the French peasant. Before our eyes, on 
the printed page, they pass in daily review. 

The ship news negatives are placed on the editor's desk. 
Only those of national figure are syndicated: the American 
Ambassador to the court of St. James returning for a brief 
holiday, and a motion picture actress whose name is known 
from coast to coast. The others are placed in the files, 
properly identified. One never knows when their names 
will spring suddenly into prominence. 

Into the hands of the editor numerous clippings of local 
events are placed by an assistant, tips on others breaking 
at the moment are relayed by the city editor, but the syndi- 
cate editor, unlike the picture editor of a metropolitan news- 
paper, pays little attention to these. The blowing up of a 
manhole on Eighth Avenue or a little known recluse found 
slain among his rags in a Houston Street basement excites 
no reaction. The story must be of national sweep, or at 
least of a regional interest. 

The stories sweeping in on wires from all parts of the 
country go through a more intense sifting in the hands of 



GET THAT PICTURE 59 

the editor. Looking through the thousands of words he 
knows at a glance what the newspaper editor will want. For 
a coverage of these stories he selects his best correspondent- 
photographers from a long list on file and despatches wires 
instructing them to send the outstanding shots, either by 
mail or airmail or airexpress to the nearest bureau point and 
duplicate to New York. The editor has always at hand the 
name of the correspondent to whom he can turn in any 
emergency. The able, active correspondents are paid well 
and promptly. Their telephone numbers are listed in a well 
kept file in event an outstanding story breaks in the vicinity 
of their homes. 

The picture editor must also have available the names 
of persons and companies to whom he can turn when a story 
breaks: publicity men connected with the hotel, stage and 
screen, large corporations, steamship lines and railroad 
companies, automobile hiring concerns, police officials, air- 
port officials, and press representatives of schools and col- 
leges. The names, addresses and telephone numbers of 
capable plane pilots are always listed. A sudden story may 
demand their immediate services. 

In his drawer must always lie airmail and railroad guides 
and road maps, and close at hand Ayer's Annual, which is 
a complete listing of newspapers and editors, and an atlas 
to check places and distances for the guidance of staff 
photographers and correspondents on story coverage. 

At every moment of the day he must be constantly aware 
of members' deadlines and what planes should be made with 
airexpress packages to reach the members in time for their 
editions; the time is figured from the moment the negative 
arrives till it is printed and captioned, and not a second is 
wasted up till the time a dust-sprayed motorcyclist dashes 
up to a plane on a Newark runway ready for a scheduled 
flight and hands the package of pictures to the pilot. 

More packages arrive : airexpressed envelopes with pic- 



60 GET THAT PICTURE 

tures from San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago and Cleve- 
land. Prints are assorted for local distribution. Others 
are copied for European sales. 

Another photographer is assigned to a fashion show 
(good fashion pictures are always in demand by the mem- 
bers), and another is rushed to a Coney Island fire (the 
famous New York resort is known the world over and any 
considerable damage there is of international news interest). 

It is a day of continual selection of photographs, servic- 
ing, close watching of distribution, keen awareness of news 
copy for picture coverage. The picture syndicate editor 
rarely has an idle moment. When he has it is generally ap- 
plied to planning a picture layout which he hopes will be 
exclusive. 

He works amid a sea of constant action : caption writers 
bent over their typewriters striving to keep up with the pace 
of the ordering; photographers hurrying to and from their 
assignments; printers exposing print after print to be rushed 
through developing pans and water tanks, boys ferrotyping 
and captioning, mail clerks distributing, motorcyclists in and 
out with their packages. It is a whirlwind of activity, tense, 
thrilling. 

Picture syndicates will turn out an average of 25,000 to 
30,000 prints weekly, and each print must stand up under 
the test of news and feature value and quality of tone and 
composition. 

It is the picture keeping a steady, grinding pace with the 
news. 

Where the syndicate picture editor will evaluate pictures 
for the perusal of hundreds of editors who will select from 
the mass those that meet his particular needs, the picture 
editor of a daily newspaper must subject the pictures that 
pass through his hands to a more rigid survey. The photo- 
graph that he approves will be the one to be printed. 

The syndicate editor thinks in terms of mass production, 



GET THAT PICTURE 6 1 

the newspaper editor concentrates on the single shot; the 
syndicate editor thinks of distances and train and airmail 
schedules, the picture editor of the daily is absorbed with the 
deadline and edition and makeup. 

The policies of the newspaper picture editors vary, strik- 
ing a very close line to the needs and policies of the pub- 
lishers. One conservative newspaper may scatter only a 
half dozen photographs through its pages, a tabloid picture 
paper will adhere to a daily program of four or five full 
pages of pictures with illustrations with story on every other 
page. 

In former days before the paper had its own staff of 
photographers, its own photoengraving plant and paid no 
attention to picture syndicates, it was the fashion to "dress 
up" the one or two pictures used, generally selected by the 
managing editor, with decorations of scrolls, arabesques 
and rosettes. The fancy art decoration redeemed the poor 
reproduction. 

With the introduction of improved engraving processes 
and the use of more and better news and feature photo- 
graphs continually pouring in from syndicate and staff 
photographer, the picture editor was hired solely to concen- 
trate on the intelligent handling and selection of photo- 
graphs, and give them artistic as well as news meaning. The 
picture has become as important in matter of content and 
display as the news story, the caption head as striking and 
original as the news headline. 

A big story breaks. The picture editor of the daily 
turns to his own file for a stock cut or photograph to illus- 
trate it with personality or scene. If the story occurs with- 
in the vicinity of the newspaper office, the staff photographer 
will be rushed to bring back the earliest possible shot in 
order to make the succeeding edition. A far away story 
will throw the editor's dependence on the syndicate to rush 
it along in the fastest possible way by either train or plane, 



62 GET THAT PICTURE 

or more recently, the transmission of the picture over the 
telephone wire. 

A close contact always exists between the picture editor 
and the desks of the city and managing editors. There are 
illustrative possibilities in most stories. The city editor will 
see to it that a photographer accompanies the reporter, the 
managing editor will press the use of a picture for an out- 
standing page-one story, and space for the use of the illus- 
tration will be alloted accordingly in the makeup of the 
pages. 

With the daily newspaper, the local story becomes as 
important for illustration as the seemingly more vital news 
from far away places. The reader is as much interested, 
sometimes more so, in seeing the picture of an automobile 
crash in his own city, though there may have been only a 
few injured, as in the crash of a car in which many were 
killed hundreds of miles distant. The picture of a waif 
lost in the subway, a foundling in a local hospital, the lay- 
ing of a cornerstone of a local edifice, the addition of new 
paintings for the city museum, the Mayor honoring fire de- 
partment heroes all these events of immediate interest to 
the reader assume an all-important position in the schedul- 
ing of pictures for the daily. Such pictures, at times, con- 
stitute a majority of the pictures used. Only the most strik- 
ing of the news and feature shots furnished by the syndicate 
will make up the remainder. 

On some newspapers, the editors of the sports, society 
and financial departments will suggest and plan the use of 
pictures for their respective pages. On others, the picture 
editor will assume the prerogatives of all departments. 

The use of the one-column personality picture is wide- 
spread. It helps relieve the monotone of the page of words. 
As a result, the newspaper sees to it that a good personality 
file is built up and well preserved. 

Seldom does the paper go beyond the two and three 



GET THAT PICTURE 63 

column cut except when the value of the news or the com- 
position of the picture demands it. A large group of persons 
at an important function cannot be very comfortably com- 
pressed into a two or three column picture; the general view 
of a golf match or a shot of five horses in a thrilling finish 
will be justifiably "blown up" into a four or five column 
cut. 

Each picture must be weighed carefully for content, 
quality and composition. The foreign picture must have a 
background suggestion of locale especially when it is a per- 
sonality shot, the big news story must convey in a flash the 
story itself; the pathos, tragedy or humor of a story must 
leave an immediate, indelible impression. The picture must 
breathe life, action, vitality, it must be animated to make 
it outstanding. The value of a photograph of a dust storm 
is enhanced when a person with handkerchief to face is 
caught within the range of the camera, the effect of a fire is 
intensified when firemen are shown battling the blaze or 
hurrying up ladders to rescue trapped victims. The shot 
of a counterfeiting outfit reveals a better story when a gov- 
ernment operative is shown examining the cache. 

Every hour brings to the daily picture editor a fresh 
supply of photographs : syndicate offerings and those turned 
in by the staff photographers. There may be four or five 
editions to make, and the editor tries to give each edition a 
fresh makeup with the new photographs displacing or sup- 
plementing the earlier shots used. 

The picture quality is carefully considered. There 
should be plenty of sharply defined detail and should have 
all the middle tones between black and white for a perfect 
half tone engraving. No matter how good the subject may 
be, it may not be used if it is either too flat or too contrasty. 

The editor must study his picture carefully before writ- 
ing his caption. On the picture tabloids this task is en- 
trusted to a special caption writer. Generally a three or 



64 GET THAT PICTURE 

four line text is written, but it must be brief and concise, 
containing all the essential facts. The top line or head 
must be vigorous, and have the "punch". Names of persons 
and places must be carefully gone over, and the text must 
be carefully checked against the news story. With feature 
pictures, original, vigorous captions help enliven the illustra- 
tions and captivate the readers. 

The picture editor must make every picture worth the 
space it occupies. 

The job of the picture editor of an illustrated tabloid 
like the New York Daily News is a very important and 
interesting one. Throughout the day, before the presses 
start rolling off the more than a million and a half papers, 
the editor is continually busy with selection and makeup. 
He sees a daily average of 400 pictures, including about a 
hundred local shots taken by the staff of 25 photographers. 

Dozens of photographs must be selected for the double 
truck (the inside two page spread), the extra page, and the 
front and back pages, besides the numerous illustrations with 
story scattered throughout the paper. His deadline for the 
pink or first edition is an hour earlier than the written mate- 
rial. The extra page is ready about three p.m., the double 
truck is all set at four o'clock, the back page at five and the 
front page at five-thirty. 

After a page is laid out on a dummy, the exact size as 
the form in the composing room, the spaces are numbered 
as well as the size of the eventual cuts. The photographs 
with the dummy are handed to the caption writer who scans 
the pictures for caption suggestions and then hands them 
back to the art department. After they are scaled and re- 
touched and the subject of the picture written on the back, 
the pictures are sent to the engraving department. An 
original listing of pictures is sent along with them, a dupli- 
cate is kept in the art department on a loose leaf book as a 



GET THAT PICTURE 65 

record of the size and number of the pictures to be pub- 
lished. The dummy is checked against that record. 

The copy desk of the news department which has al- 
ready been notified that pictures will accompany a story, 
receives the captions to be sure that they jibe with the story. 
The captions for the full pages occupy a space of about 
three square inches. The art of condensation reaches its 
highest form on the paper like the News. Not a single 
word is wasted. 

Within thirty minutes after the photograph arrives in 
the engraving room a cut is ready for the printer at work in 
the composing room who also gets his caption type and puts 
it in the assigned space. If it is too long, the caption is cut 
and reset. One printer is assigned to each picture page. 
Before the cuts arrive he will have built up the spaces for 
them with blocks of various sizes. The form is locked up 
and the cuts are then laid on. From the composing room, 
the form is rolled on a movable table or chase to the stereo- 
typing room where the mats and castings are made. Shortly 
thereafter the giant rotary presses start rolling off the 
printed pages. 

Although the last edition goes to press at three in the 
morning there are numerous occasions when the paper is 
replated at a much later hour, up till about six o'clock, in 
order to publish a picture on a sensational news story. 

The tabloid picture editor will continually vary makeup 
in order to give each new edition a fresh appearance. The 
square or rectangular picture, with its even, set appearance 
is mortised (the lines of the square or rectangle are indent- 
ed), and the layout of the page assumes a striking blend of 
artistic composition, appealing to the eye. 

The cream of the news photographic world is at the dis- 
posal of the daily newspapers. Picture agencies offer them 
the best of their material either by subscription to the serv- 
ice or outright purchase of the individual picture offered by 



66 GET THAT PICTURE 

the agency salesman; freelance photographers in and around 
the city submit the products of their cameras, the alert staff 
photographers are on top of every local story. The news- 
papers today never suffer a dearth of picture material. 

Whether it be on the News, the picture paper with the 
country's largest circulation, or on the smallest daily using 
the picture mats, the function of the picture editor is primar- 
ily the same. He must judge the picture with a keen ap- 
preciative eye of the artist and reporter; he must entertain 
and instruct his readers; he must learn to discriminate be- 
tween the interesting and the prosaic, the objectionable and 
the pleasing. He must never override his readers' good 
taste. 

The picture editor is a strong link in the journalistic 
chain. The circulation builders can well afford ever to 
strengthen that link. The readers are taking a great fancy 
to his work these days. 



Chapter F. 

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS 
CAMERAMAN 

With a courage born of nerve, sheer audacity and a 
tenacity of will, the modern newspaper photographer has 
added a vivid chapter of romance and adventure to the 
annals of journalism. Spurred by the battle-cry: "Get the 
picture!" he has stormed the heights with his little black 
box, captured his objective and returned to his ranks with 
the picture safely in tow. He is the true soldier of Peace ! 

The news cameraman is always ready in a flash to meet 
any emergency; without qualm or fear, he is prepared to go 
through fire and water at the word: u Go !" He scales 
dizzy heights of buildings to get the unusual angle, he treads 
narrow girders on unfinished bridges to get the shot of the 
men at work; through fire and hurricane and flood he 
dashes unhesitatingly to snap every view of a disaster. The 
only anxiety that besets him is : "Did my pictures scoop the 
town? Did my plates arrive at the office ok?" 

At the end of a big story that has carried him far afield, 
he will return to the office, rummage through the huge stack 
of negatives he has sent back, and find one lone shot that 
will be slightly out of focus. It's enough to spoil his appetite 
for days. Disregarding slaps on his back from the editor 
acclaiming his great work, he will naively murmer: "Gee, 
wonder what the deuce caused this." 

He just cannot grasp the fact that even the world's best 
cameraman can once in a while get a slightly out of focus 
picture. The big, robust, daring cameraman can be so de- 
lightfully child-like at times, the schoolboy who is irked 
because he didn't get 100 instead of 99 on his test paper. 



68 GET THAT PICTURE 

The cameraman thrives on the thrill of a big story. Like 
a true member of the Fourth Estate, he will dash in and 
out of taxis, planes, trains and ships, bang his toes, bump 
his head, tear his clothes, and miss his meals, only to be sure 
that he gets every shot and angle of the story he's covering. 
He strives for nothing but the best results, and he will sink 
into an easy chair the following morning with a singing 
heart and a boyish grin as he holds the paper at arm's 
length, and beholds his picture, a five column "beauty" on 
the front page. Oh, boy, it was worth everything to get just 
that! 

Whether a story breaks in the frozen wastes of the 
Arctic or the miasmic jungles of the Amazon, the photogra- 
pher gets his picture. It may take an hour or it may take 
days to trek to the scene, but he finally gets his picture, and 
there is no turning back till he does. 

There is the story of the three transatlantic fliers, Cap- 
tain Herman Koehl, Baron Ehrenfried von Huenefeld and 
Captain James Fitzmaurice, who were stranded on the 
bleak Greenly Island off the coast of Labrador when their 
plane crashed into the ice and snow. 

Newspapers and syndicates had despatched cameramen 
in planes to Murray Bay, Canada, on the first lap of a 
projected flight to reach the men and get the first pictures. 

Between the men, heavily clad against the cold of the 
dying days of Winter, and the three intrepid fliers hemmed 
in on their Labrador island, lay a thousand mile stretch of 
bleak Canadian country, constantly swept by fierce blizzards. 
Cameramen and reporters from the country over had con- 
verged toward Murray Bay as the last hopping off point for 
Greenly Island. 

The editors at their office desks were frantically phoning 
and wiring. "Try at all costs to get through!" was the 
tenor of their commands. But the hardiest fliers demurred. 
It would be suicide to try to buck those blizzard winds. The 



GET THAT PICTURE 69 

planes remained on the ice poised for flight but could not 
get off. Fuel was being constantly brought in by dog sled 
from Quebec to keep the motors warmed up in case of a 
break in the weather. 

Finally it remained for Captain Edward Jackson of the 
New York Daily News, a veteran news cameraman who 
had seen service in the World War and accompanied Presi- 
dent Wilson to Versailles for the Peace Conference, to make 
the "suicidal" attempt. His comrades of the typewriter and 
camera were startled. He'll never get through ! While his 
editors at the office held their breaths, fearful of a sudden 
flash from the Canadian wilds that he had cracked up, 
Jackson kept on going till his plane nosed down on the 
snows of Greenly Island. He found the fliers being com- 
fortably taken care of by the lighthouse keeper of the island. 

His first shots of the stranded fliers, sent back to New 
York by a relay of planes, thrilled the News' million read- 
ers. And millions more enjoyed the sight of the remarkable 
shots when the News' syndicate, the Pacific and Atlantic 
Photos, gave them world distribution. 

Any moment of the day or night, winter or summer, 
may suddenly rouse men on the desk or in the darkroom to 
startling action. The wires may be ticking off a common- 
place story from Kenosha, Wisconsin, or Bombay, India, 
when suddenly the little bell rings, and the operator excited- 
ly bends over to get the first words of a tremendous story 
breaking. 

It was toward the late afternoon of a hot July day in 
1921. Editors were poring over routine copy, and the day 
photographers back from mediocre assignments were lolling 
in the darkrooms waiting for their plates to develop, when 
the electrifying flash came over the wires : u The Navy muni- 
tions plant at Lake Denmark, New Jersey, has exploded." 

Within a few minutes, hired cabs and autos were rushing 
newspaper and syndicate photographers to the scene; the 



7 GET THAT PICTURE 

early darkness found them piling out at Dover, the nearest 
town. The sky was alight with the flames from the burning 
buildings and the air was being split with the explosions of 
thousands of shells. They could not get too close to the 
scene. Armed guards turned them back from the roads 
leading to the blazing inferno. 

But pictures have to be taken ! There are deadlines and 
editions back in the city, so while they chafe under the 
guards' strict orders not to proceed further, the photogra- 
phers turn to make pictures of the injured and wounded at 
the hospital in Dover, the sentinels on duty, the alarmed 
towns-people watching the fire from the nearest vantage 
points. 

Without being told, the news cameraman instinctively 
knows that if he can't get the best shot possible, whether it's 
forbidden or circumstances keep the picture out of reach of 
his lens, he will get the next best shot so long as it will 
furnish illustration for the story. 

However, the restrictions did not keep several New 
York editors from entering the grounds. Caveo Sileo, as- 
signment editor with the International News Photos, had 
been home when the news of the explosion was phoned to 
him from the office. Overhearing the phone conversation, 
Mrs. Sileo realized there was danger and determined to 
accompany her husband. 

When they reached Dover by auto they were barred 
from the reservation. After entering an unused entrance 
they climbed over high fences and jumped to the inside of 
the grounds. It was a veritable u No Man's Land" with 
bullets whizzing by and shells bursting in air. For more 
than two hours, while they crouched beside trees, Sileo, who 
had taken his camera, kept shooting away with his plates. 
They then headed back to their car and shot toward Dover 
where Sileo made more pictures of the injured in the hos- 
pitals before returning to New York. 



GET THAT PICTURE 71 

It is a rare occasion when the managing editor of a news- 
paper will accompany a photographer to the scene of a story, 
but on this one, Frank Hause, then managing editor of the 
New York Daily News, hopped from his desk and rushed 
by car to Dover, accompanied by a cameraman. 

From a shaky observation tower, Hause, with the skill 
of an officer in battle, directed the work of the photogra- 
pher, and both stuck through the blazing inferno till they 
had secured a complete pictorial record. 

The following day, Mack Baron, International's flying 
photographer, flew over the scene of destruction. In utter 
disregard of exploding shells, shrapnel and jagged pieces 
of metal, Baron passed the word along to the pilot to dip 
low. Skimming through the air but a few hundred feet 
above the ground, Baron snapped some remarkable closeups 
and did not turn back for Roosevelt Field until he had ex- 
hausted his magazine. Upon landing the pilot called 
Baron's attention to jagged tears in the wings. 

Carl Nesensohn, a veteran news photographer who has 
been with the New York Times Wide World Photos since 
its inception, was in Brooklyn on his way home one July day 
in 1916 when the sound of a terrific explosion followed by a 
burst of fire stopped him in his tracks. 

It was the famous Black Tom explosion and fire on the 
Jersey City docks which killed two persons and caused a 
property loss of $22,000,000. 

Across the bay, on the Jersey shore, Carl saw flames 
shooting skyward. He rushed back to the office, loaded his 
holders and headed for the Battery. After much pleading 
and payment of a small sum, he induced the owner of a 
small craft, hardly much larger than a row boat, to take him 
across. 

While they were nearing the Jersey shore, burning 
barges, some loaded with exploding munitions, swept by, 
perilously close. They finally maneuvered the boat along- 



72 GET THAT PICTURE 

side a dock at a fairly safe distance from the fire. Carl 
told the skipper to wait for him until after he had made a 
few shots. But when he returned he found the boat gone. 
The wind was sweeping the fire closer and soon the shore 
end of the dock was ablaze. Fortunately, a New York City 
fire boat hove into view and took him aboard. From the 
ship he was able to take more views. Not satisfied with 
these, he begged permission to be let ashore for a few 
minutes, and he managed to get some remarkable closeups, 
not without, however, getting the soles of his shoes burned 
and his suit riddled with red hot cinders. 

It was one of Nesensohn's many exciting adventures in 
the news game. 

In 1935 he was assigned to cover the passenger liner 
Morro Castle which still aflame from stem to stern had 
drifted onto the beach at Asbury Park, N. J. The boat 
while bound from Havana to New York had caught fire off 
Asbury Park and 134 passengers and members of the crew 
perished. 

After the smoke and flames had died down on one end 
of the ship, Nesensohn secured the permission of the Coast 
Guard to be swung aboard the ship in a breeches bouy. He 
was the first photographer to set foot on the burning ship. 

The steel plates of the deck were still fiery hot but he 
kept on, shooting his pictures. In many places the plates 
had buckled into wave-like formations and Carl had to slide 
up and down before finally reaching the burned out staircase 
leading to the upper decks. 

Jagged pieces of metal and splinters of charred wood 
ripped his clothing. The hot steel was like a volcano under 
his feet. He kept constantly to the windward side lest the 
flames and smoke from the other side of the ship billow back 
into his face. He finally managed to reach three decks of 
the ship maneuvering the camera in all directions to get the 




Wide World Photos 
REFUGEES OF THE FLOOD 

Tired, dispirited, her f?ce drawn from anguish and worry, Mrs. Mary Mooney, 
of Luxora, Arkansas, huddles her two children close to her on cots provided 
for them in a concentration camp at Memphis, Tenn. They were fed and 
housed along- with thousands of others who were forced to flee their homes 
during 1 the disastrous Ohio and Mississippi Rivers flood in January, 1937. 




Wide World Photos 

FOUND IN THE SCHOOL RUINS 

One of the few survivors of the New London, Texas, Consolidated School 
disaster looks for her books amid the strewn mass. The school was com- 
pletely wrecked by a gas explosion, killing nearly 500 students and teachers, 

on March 18, 1937. 




Wide World Photo 

THE PRINCE IS HEADING FOR A FALL 

The Duke of Windsor, when he was Prince ftf Wales, was the victim of a 
series of spills before he gave up horse-racing. The ubiquitous cameraman 
clicked his camera the instant the former King- was thrown from his 
saddle while riding in a Welsh Guards Challenge Cup race in England. In 
another instant, the royal equestrian was rolling in the muddy turf, but was 

uninjured. 




Pictures, Inc. 
HIS LAST FIGHT 

One of the most dramatic fight pictures ever taken is this one showing Ernie 
Schaaf, Boston heavyweight, at the instant he went crashing to the floor 
after Primo Camera, Italian giant, had landed a straight left to his face in 
the 13th round of their fight at Madison Square Garden, New York City, night 
of February 10, 1933. Schaaf lay unconscious for an hour and was then 
removed t'o the Polyclinic Hospital where he died four days later following 



GET THAT PICTURE 73 

best angles. He obtained the first shots of the burned out 
interior of the vessel. 

With his clothing burned, ripped and torn, his shoes 
almost burned through and his face coal black from the soot 
and smoke, he finally managed to reach shore and return 
to his hotel to pack the negatives for speedy shipment back 
to New York. 

Later another news photographer went aboard the ship 
but forgot to keep to the windward side. He was overcome 
by the smoke and heat of the nearby flames, and fell face 
down on the hot deck. Fortunately he was spotted by an- 
other cameraman and carried off, painfully burned. 

For these heroes of the lens, it was just another day's 
assignment. 

Every job has its potential thrills and dangers, but the 
daring bearer of the camera faces all without the batting 
of an eyelash. 

When word came that the situation in Cuba was be- 
coming more serious, that the regime of President Machado 
was about to fall, mobs were attacking and being attacked 
by gun fire, Seymour Ress, Associated Press cameraman, 
was immediately flown from New York to Miami and then 
over to Havana in the first outgoing Pan American Airways 
plane. 

He had made some remarkable shots of the soldiers 
with machine guns and rifles in action, crowds scurrying to 
safety, a newspaper plant afire, and was on his way to the 
Pan American Airways office in Havana to put his plates 
aboard a plane when he was attacked by a mob at the 
entrance to the airfield. They forced him back into his 
automobile at the point of guns, smashed his camera and 
some of his plates, and he was released only after some of 
the cooler heads had intervened. 

When Ress had seen the mob coming, he had the trigger- 
quick sense, with which so many of the news photographers 



74 GET THAT PICTURE 

are blessed, to conceal some of the plates on his person. 
After he was freed, he immediately inquired about charter- 
ing a plane to fly to Miami but sorrowfully learned that 
President Machado had taken the only plane available to 
fly to Nassau, the Bahamas, in a dash to safety. He 
advised his New York office of his plight, and they at once 
ordered a plane from Miami to fly to Havana to pick up 
his plates. 

On another occasion, his quick thinking enabled Ress 
to secure an exclusive picture for his syndicate. 

After the announcement of the appointment of William 
Woodin as Secretary of the Treasury in President Roose- 
velt's cabinet had come over the wires, Ress was assigned to 
get a new picture of the appointee. The night editor had 
phoned Woodin's home in advance, but the butler had an- 
nounced that he had gone to the home of a friend for dinner. 
Ress was hurried there, but on arriving was barred from 
entering. The butler's laconic : "Sorry, sir, but Mr. Woodin 
will not want to be interviewed or photographed" threaten- 
ed no pictures. Undismayed, Ress hung about the house 
entrance for a while, pleading with the butler several times 
to allow him in, but it fell on deaf ears. The butler had his 
orders. Finally, an idea struck Ress. On the back of a 
card, he scribbled: "Mr. Woodin, please allow just one 
photograph. The office insists that I get a picture and I 
do not want to return until I do." The butler was per- 
suaded to bring the card to Mr. Woodin. It worked. Ress 
was allowed to enter and he made several poses. The ex- 
clusive pictures were rushed back to the office and shortly 
thereafter they were being syndicated to all parts of the 
country. 

It proved that there are no such words as "it can't be 
done" in the vocabulary of the news photographer. 

The cameraman must at all times keep a cool head, 
think fast and keep both feet to the ground. There is no 



GET THAT PICTURE 75 

wavering or retreating. He must keep on firing away with 
his camera as though he was left alone to man a machine 
gun nest in the face of enemy fire. 

In June 1932, Joseph Costa, New York Daily News 
photographer, was assigned to go to Washington to cover 
the bonus marchers. The veterans had camped in all parts 
of the Capital and were daily becoming more insistent on 
having their demands met. For a while things were fairly 
peaceful, but finally the local police threatened to go into 
the shacks and empty buildings where the men had taken 
shelter and drive them out. The situation came to a head 
one July day when the police went into the buildings and at 
the point of pistols pulled out some of the marchers. Others 
had to be carried out. Costa made his pictures of these 
scenes and rushed to the airport to ship his plates back to 
New York. 

He returned to confer with Superintendent of Police 
Glassford who was standing on a Pennsylvania Avenue lot 
with a few of his men nearby. Suddenly a group of the 
marchers, led by a husky fellow holding aloft an American 
flag, came forward from the other end of the lot. Glassford 
and his men rushed to head them off, and Costa tagged 
along with them. One of the policemen tried to snatch the 
flag from the hands of the leader. Stones flew through the 
air, followed by a veritable barrage of bricks, lead pipes and 
pieces of plumbing. The battle raged for about five minutes, 
and while the police and the veterans were locked in hand 
to hand battle, Costa stood his ground between them and 
calmly snapped his pictures. Bricks and stones flew past 
him and one struck his shoulder and almost felled him, but 
he kept on shooting his plates. Finally, the police, outnum- 
bered and given orders not to shoot, retreated and took 
shelter behind the improvised huts. Unmindful of the pain 
in his shoulder, Costa dashed for the airport and shipped 
his plates back to his office. They were the most thrilling 



76 GET THAT PICTURE 

pictures taken of the bonus marchers' "war" and received 
front page prominence all over the world. 

Costa returned that night to take the pictures of the 
burning of the veterans' shacks when the marchers were 
finally driven out of their improvised homes on the Capital's 
open lots. 

His pictorial record of the story was complete. 

Two of the most remarkable news photographs ever 
taken of the assassinations of high officials were made by 
William Warnecke, of the former New York World, and 
Samuel Schulman, an International News Photos staff cam- 
eraman. 

Warnecke was assigned to make pictures of Mayor 
Gaynor of New York boarding a steamer at a Hoboken 
dock in 1910. He went aboard with the official party, when 
suddenly a bullet from the pistol of an insane crank struck 
down the city's Chief Executive. As the Mayor tottered 
with blood flowing from the side of his face, Warnecke who 
had already trained his camera on the Mayor snapped his 
picture. It is a remarkable photograph showing two of the 
official party rushing forward to assist the Mayor at the 
instant he was shot. 

Schulman's historic picture was taken at a later date. 
He had gone with a score of reporters and cameramen to 
Bayfront Park in Miami to cover the arrival of President- 
elect Roosevelt in February 1933. Schulman made a few 
shots from the bandstand including one of the President- 
elect seated on top of his car waving to the crowds and 
Mayor Anton Cermak of Chicago and Henry L. Doherty 
standing close to him. He climbed down into the crowd 
to greet Mayor Cermak whom he knew very well. Bob 
Clark, Secret Service man, was passing at the time. The 
firing started. Schulman saw the orange flashes and said: 
"This sounds like Chicago, Mayor." The Mayor said 
nothing, but groaned and collapsed. Clark and Schulman 



GET THAT PICTURE 77 

tried to pick him up, not knowing at the instant that he had 
been shot. They thought he had been pushed by the crowd. 
Then Clark felt blood on his fingers and shouted: "He's 
been shot!" The crowd took up the shout. Schulman 
slipped back to make his remarkable picture while Clark, 
L. L. Lee, City Manager of Miami and W. Wood, Na- 
tional Committeeman for Dade County, were assisting the 
wounded Mayor. 

Schulman then turned to get the shots of the assassin, 
Guiseppe Zangara, who was quickly nabbed. The plates 
were quickly developed, sets of prints were run off for special 
distribution, and the negatives were on the way to New 
York on the early morning plane. 

Every emergency is met in a twinkling of an eye, 
whether it be on the coverage of a flood or fire, explosion or 
earthquake. 

George Watson of Acme News Photos was working 
in his laboratory in the Daily News building in Los Angeles 
one March day in 1933 when he saw the developing fluid 
spilling out the pan and felt the floor shaking under his feet. 
He felt the trembling increase with recurrent earthquake 
shocks. It was no time to stay in the building. He grabbed 
his camera, rushed into the street and took pictures of a 
crumbling structure. Realizing that more violent tremblors 
may topple his office into ruins, he rushed back, got some 
developer and then returned to the street. In the back of an 
automobile, he developed his plates and rushed to the tele- 
photo office with a finished negative for wire transmission. 

Working amid mobs bent on destruction of life or prop- 
erty is dangerous business for the news cameraman. It calls 
into play every ounce of mental and physical strength and 
courage. The cameraman has oftimes become the target 
of the crowd's pent-up hate and frenzy. 

The leaders of a mob, especially in a lynching, do not 



78 GET THAT PICTURE 

want their pictures taken for fear of being recognized and 
prosecuted by the law. 

A lynching mob was battering down the doors of the 
San Jose, California, jail one night in November, 1933, to 
get to two accused slayers, John M. Holmes and Thomas 
B. Thurmond, when Louis Gardner, a San Jose Mercury 
Herald cameraman, along with other photographers, started 
banging away with their cameras. The fury of the crowd 
was turned on him when he set off the flash bulbs. They 
were bent on destroying his plates and camera. Quickly he 
turned and slipped them to Paul Leaman, a fellow reporter, 
who raced out of the crowd and tossed them into the auto- 
mobile of Mrs. Wilson Albee, wife of the news editor of 
the paper. She rushed them safely to the office. 

Gardner was seized and searched, and elbowed about in 
a rough fashion, before he was released. 

Mob fury at Salisbury, Maryland, in November, 1933, 
spelled many an anxious moment for the cameramen and 
reporters who were beaten and buffeted before they were 
able to find a safe retreat in a hotel room. 

The militia had been sent by Governor Ritchie to arrest 
a number of men supposed to have been the leaders of a 
mob which several months previous had lynched George 
Armwood, a negro, who had been arrested charged with 
raping an aged white woman. 

After the militia had been forced to retreat in face of 
overwhelming numbers, the crowd wreaked their vengeance 
on the newspapermen. Automobiles and cameras were 
destroyed, and a sound truck was hurled into the Wicomico 
River. The manager of the hotel where they were stopping 
came to their aid. He spirited them into a top floor room 
while a crowd outside and in the lobby were yelling for them. 
Later they were able to retreat through a back door and 
race for planes and cars in waiting outside the town limits. 

Even the wrath of an individual who is averse to having 



GET THAT PICTURE 79 

his or her picture taken may be turned upon the photogra- 
pher. 

At a wrestling match in Philadelphia in April, 1934, 
Donald Corvelli, an Evening Ledger photographer, was 
knocked down by Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr., when he tried 
to snap his picture. With a shout of: "I don't like to have 
my picture taken!", young Roosevelt jumped on the camera 
several times to destroy it as well as the plates. But quick 
thinking saved Corvelli's shot. He managed to shove the 
holder under his coat before his equipment went down under 
the stamping of feet. It appeared the next day in Corvelli's 
paper. 

A touch of the humorous may sometimes relieve the 
tension and anxiety on a picture assignment. It smacked 
more of the slapstick comedy of the early movie days in the 
following story of George Schmidt, New York Daily News 
photographer. 

Schmidt was assigned to cover the Bud Stillman wedding 
at the home of his mother, Mrs. Fifi Stillman, at Grand 
Anse, Canada. He had to fly from Grand Mere 50 miles 
up the St. Maurice River to get to the house. He and 
John O'Donnell, a fellow reporter, had made arrangements 
with the other newspaper reporters and cameramen to 
cover the job for them. The News men were to get the 
preliminary stuff that day and fly back to Grand Mere where 
the rest were waiting. Schmidt, knowing Mrs. Stillman 
well on previous assignments, had obtained her permission 
to cover the wedding. 

After circling about for a while, the flying boat finally 
managed to alight in log-filled waters close to the shore of 
a small island opposite the Stillman home. An employee 
of Mrs. Stillman's seeing them alight rowed over to them 
and brought them to the mainland to greet Mrs. Stillman. 
At first she thought they were guests. When she learned 
they were newspapermen she ordered them to get out. She 



8o GET THAT PICTURE 

had changed her mind about permitting photographs of the 
wedding. 

Crestfallen, they went back to the island. But the flying 
boat could not take off. The pilot told them he had to go 
back alone and he could not take off with the load of three 
persons. There they were stranded on the island and dark- 
ness was coming on. They had not had anything to eat 
since morning. They hallooed to the man with the boat who 
took pity on them and brought them back to the mainland. 
They sat themselves down on a back road hoping that a car 
would pass to take them to the nearest town. Darkness 
was fast approaching. Mrs. Stillman's chef, out for a walk, 
saw them and asked them into the kitchen for a bite. Sand- 
wiches and tea gulped down, they surreptitiously stole back 
to their places on the road. 

Finally a truck carrying chairs for the wedding taking 
place the following day hove into sight, and the driver told 
them he would take them to La Toque after they were 
through unloading. At three in the morning, the truck 
showed up again, and after a bumpy ride in which Schmidt 
thought he had broken his plates, arrived at La Toque at 
seven o'clock. 

In the meantime the reporters and cameramen awaiting 
impatiently their return at Grand Mere had thought that 
Schmidt and O'Donnell had doublecrossed them, so they 
decided to take a train to La Toque and then go by car to 
the Stillman home. The News men tumbled out of the 
truck as the others were getting off the train, and there were 
a few angry words passed before they were told what hap- 
pened. Grins and laughter followed. They then all decided 
to cover the wedding en masse. 

The wedding was taking place on the lawn as the news- 
papermen drove up. Decidedly, no pictures would be al- 
lowed. The place was barred. The cameramen decided 
to hop the fence. The bride and groom were cutting the 



GET THAT PICTURE 8 1 

wedding cake when the photographers stormed the grounds. 
Infuriated, Mrs. Stillman dashed to the end of the table 
where a pile of large plates were stacked, and one by one, 
started hurling them at the photographers. Weaving in and 
out, ducking the plates, the cameramen kept on shooting 
their pictures. Mrs. Stillman or no Mrs. Stillman, plates 
or no plates, they could not come a thousand miles without 
getting their shots. Their work done, they scampered back 
to the road amid the angry shouts of the Canadian back- 
woodsmen and the laughter of the New York socialite 
guests. 

On many occasions, newspaper publishers have been 
forced to take defensive measures to protect their camera- 
men from violence. 

During a textile strike in Passaic and Clifton, N. J. in 
March, 1926, the police of the two towns beat many report- 
ers and cameramen in an attempt to keep them away from 
the mills. There was much talk of rough police tactics in 
dealing with the strikers, and the police did not want the 
news and pictures to get out. Five thousand dollars worth 
of cameras and equipments were smashed in their raids on 
the photographers. 

The situation was serious. The New York Mirror sent 
two armored cars with reporters and cameramen. The New 
York News sent one. 

Despite attempts made by traffic policemen to hold them 
up on pretexts of traffic violations, they got through, and 
the newspapermen got their pictures and stories. 

Covering the same story, Larry Froeber, Daily News 
cameraman and other photographers were on the roof of a 
building snapping the scenes of a riot. Just as they were 
about to leave, with their backs to the street, they were seen 
by the police. Larry conducted his fellow workers into an 
empty room a few stories below when the police opened the 
door. But they had hidden their cameras in an old stove. 



82 GET THAT PICTURE 

"Damned glad you have no cameras," was the parting shot 
of the police as they walked out. 

The cameraman has braved the dangers of flood and 
fire, risked his life in war and peace time strife and run the 
gauntlet of inflamed mobs. He has not come through un- 
scathed. Clubs have left their marks and bullets their 
wounds. Many a photographer has laid down his life in the 
line of duty. 

Many years ago the Goodyear Company launched its 
first blimp, a fourteen passenger craft. It was to make a 
triumphant flight over Chicago. 

Fourteen men board the blimp for an inspection flight 
over the city. In midair the ship catches fire. The men 
leap from the ship as it drops into the heart, of the city and 
crashes in flames on the roof of a bank building. One who 
leaps is Milton Norton, an International News Photos 
cameraman, but not until after he had made a shot of the 
fire. His parachute floats down but then catches on the 
cornice of a La Salle Street building. Norton drops four 
stories to the street. 

When he awakens for a brief conscious moment his 
weary eyes encompass the circle of anxious friends and 
relatives, and he whispers: "How did my plates come out?" 

A loving voice replies: "They came out swell." With 
a smile on his lips, he breathed his last. He never knew 
that the negative he had placed in his hip pocket had been 
pounded into a thousand bits. 

Back of all these thrilling stories of the unsung heroes 
of the press lies just one dominant and all-compelling pur- 
pose the will to serve his editor and the public well. His 
is the song and sage of the mechanized world in which we 
live; he seeks no honors, no glory, he goes about his daily 
duties with but a single thought in mind, a simple and pro- 
found loyalty to his profession. 

He is the Man behind the camera ! 



Chapter VI. 

FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE NEWS 
CAMERAMAN 

After many years of tilting with adventure in Hawaii, 
Samoa, Russia, the Philippines, in which he recorded with 
facile pen the thrill and danger of revolution, war, intrigue 
and the day-in-and-day-out event, prosaic recording but 
never lacking in color, Linton Wells, world famous cor- 
respondent, finally returned to his home soil in 1921 a 
welcome respite from the swirling currents of the Orient. 
He settled in Hollywood and wrote articles on the movie 
colony glamor. It was not long before Wells, who could 
produce as fine a news picture as he could a thrilling yarn 
for page one, was called upon to play the master role in 
one of the most exciting picture stunts ever pulled. 

Wells was in Los Angeles when the flash was received 
that the liner City of Honolulu caught fire seven hundred 
miles from Los Angeles while on her maiden trip from 
Honolulu, and soon afterward, the relieving word that the 
United States Army transport Thomas had rescued every 
passenger and member of the crew and was bringing them 
to San Pedro. Wells, at the time, was Pacific Coast 
manager of the Pacific and Atlantic Photos, syndicate of 
the Chicago Tribune and New York Daily News, which 
had been organized late in 1921 to service the two live 
newspapers with the best news pictures from all parts of 
the world, and later to branch into one of the largest 
distributors of news and feature reproductions. 

Without losing a moment's time, he flashed a radio 
message to the survivors aboard the Thomas bidding for 
pictures of the burning ship and the actual scenes of the 



84 GET THAT PICTURE 

rescue. An answer was given that he could get six rolls 
of undeveloped film for $150, which he accepted. 

Then he went to work on a plan of action. Un- 
doubtedly, other picture agencies were also bidding for 
pictures taken of the disaster. It would not do to wait 
for the perfunctory arrival of the ship at San Pedro. So 
he hit upon the idea of boarding the Thomas somewhere 
at sea to obtain the first photographs and interviews. A 
wireless to the Captain requesting permission to do so was 
answered with a curt refusal. The Captain bluntly stated 
that he would not pick up anyone. Undaunted, Wells went 
ahead with his plans. He chartered a flying boat and took 
off in search of the rescue ship. 

Visibility was perfect. The sea was as smooth as glass. 
Wells figured that the Thomas would be in the vicinity 
of the Santa Barbara Channel, so he ordered the pilot 
to fly in that direction. Sighting the ship, the aviator 
maneuvered the plane until it was about fifty feet above 
the water. Wells then rose from his seat in the bow, 
tightened his life jacket, muttered a prayer, and leaped 
over the side. Inside the jacket, encased in waterproof 
material, was a wad of five hundred dollars. 

When, after what seemed an eternity, he rose to the 
surface, he shook the water from his eyes and glanced 
around. The plane was already heading back toward the 
California shore. The Thomas loomed ahead in the 
distance. Minutes of waving, and then Wells saw a life- 
boat being lowered. He breathed a sigh of relief. He 
felt he could not have stayed much longer in the cold 
water which seemed to be paralyzing him from shoulder 
to toe. In a short while he was hoisted aboard and faced 
the Captain. A torrent of abuse escaped from the Cap- 
tain's lips when he told him the purpose of the stunt, but 
after much pleading, the skipper relented and he was 



GET THAT PICTURE 85 

allowed to seek his interviews and purchase his rolls of 
film. 

Fifteen minutes of fast work brought him enough 
words and undeveloped film to fill many newspaper pages. 
In the meanwhile he kept an eagle eye open for the return 
of the plane. It soon came into sight and made a perfect 
landing some distance from the starboard bow. Wrapping 
his films and notes in the waterproof material, he dived 
overboard. Swimming furiously, he fought his way from 
the sucking currents around the ship to meet the seaplane 
taxiing toward him. He was hauled into the plane's cock- 
pit, and in a trice, they were in the air, winging full speed 
toward San .Pedro. Three hours later he was in Los 
Angeles with the first pictures and stories of the disaster 
a full twelve hour beat over his competitors. 

Some time later, Wells figured in another news photo- 
graphic exploit which revealed him as a man of extra- 
ordinary courage and ingenuity. 

Forty-seven miners were trapped 4600 feet under- 
ground when a cave-in followed by fire on an upper level 
cut off their escape in the gold-bearing Argonaut Mine at 
Jackson, California, a town of 5000 inhabitants in the 
mountains of Amador County. A desperate attempt to 
rescue them by boring a tunnel through an adjacent shaft 
was being started when scores of newspaper men and 
women and photographers converged on the grief stricken 
town. Day and night, without a moment's letup, the 
rescue party toiled on, ever beset by fears that they could 
not reach the trapped men in time. It was a grim drama 
that electrified the world. 

But the reporters and photographers were confronted 
with a problem which threatened to nip in the bud one of 
the best stories in years. The citizens of Jackson were a 
tough lot, a law unto themselves, and they were "agin" 
the jidea of publicizing their misfortune. So they con- 
tinually harassed the representatives of the press, goading 



86 GET THAT PICTURE 

them into fights, reviling and threatening them. With the 
days passing, the tension became greater, and the nerves 
of everyone were ready to snap. The bellicose Sheriff of 
Amador County was gun and shield behind the residents 
and lined up solidly with them to hinder the work of the 
newsmen and women, with instructions to shoot any man 
on mine property with a camera. His favorite reply to 
protests was: u Get the hell out of here if you don't like 
the way you're being treated!" 

The day approached when the rescue party was about 
to break through to the entombed miners. The photogra- 
phers were gathered on the porch of the hotel discussing 
the ways and means of getting pictures at the mine 
entrance. A group of citizens heard them and sauntered 
over. 

"Listen, you fellows," one husky shouted, "I'm warn- 
ing you. Get the hell out of this town, and get out quick. 
I've got a brother down there, and if any one of you guys 
starts taking pictures> I'm startin' shootin'." The others 
nodded their heads in assent. A second voiced a like warn- 
ing. A third and fourth followed suit. The sheriff in the 
meantime had given strict orders that no pictures were to 
be taken at the mine entrance. The outlook was hopeless. 
Most of the photographers that day packed up and left 
town. 

Wells had been assigned to take pictures as well as 
cover the news. Reluctant to leave, he decided to wire 
his boss, Teddy Beck, managing editor of the Chicago 
Tribune. The answer came back: "Get pictures. Dead 
or alive." He went into consultation with his associate, 
B. W. Hellings, San Francisco bureau manager. They 
decided that if Beck wants pictures, he'll get them. 

They then bought two vest pocket Kodaks which they 
placed inside their caps, cutting holes in them so the 
lenses would have free play. They then tested their 



GET THAT PICTURE 87 

ability to focus the cameras blindly, press the trigger and 
turn the film accurately without attracting attention. 

In the meantime word had been flashed that the rescue 
party had broken through and found the trapped men 
dead. Wells posted himself at the mine entrance while 
Hellings went to the cyanide mill where the bodies were to 
be taken to be prepared for burial. Seating himself on a 
pile of lumber, Wells placed the cap covering the camera 
on his knee. jNearby was a deputy sheriff with a .45 
hanging from his hip. The first three corpses were being 
carried out of the shaft and lifted onto stretchers a scant 
ten feet away from Wells. He pressed the trigger. In 
his ears the click sounded like a boom of thunder. But the 
sheriff made no move. He was safe. He twisted the 
roller-key and shot again. After his roll of film was 
taken, Wells rose, stretched, and walked casually back to 
his car. 

In the meantime Hellings had been employing the 
same surreptitious methods to get pictures of the bodies 
laid out in the temporary morgue. They met at a pre- 
arranged spot, and then hurried over to the darkroom of 
a local photographer which they had hired. They were 
overwhelmed with joy to find that both strips of film were 
perfect. There wasn't a single out-of-focus shot. In a 
little while they were on their way to a plane which they 
had kept waiting for a week. Off like a shot, they headed 
for Mather Field in Sacramento, and soon afterward, the 
only pictures ever taken of the dead miners were aboard 
an eastbound train a perfect scoop ! 

A week later, Wells received a warning that he better 
never set foot again in Amador County or else! 

Thus the ingenious cameraman learns how to overcome 
all opposition. Sometimes, as in the case of Wells and 
Hellings, it is the wrath of a citizenry, backed up with 
guns, which they have to face. Other times, company 
officials remain adamant. It may be a mine disaster, an 



88 GET THAT PICTURE 

explosion, a fire, a strike it's a set of circumstances 
enough to break down any man's morale and almost forces 
him to go slinking back to the office with the weak plea 
that there are simply no pictures to be made. 

But the trigger-quick cameraman nine times out of ten 
will work out a solution. Take the case of Anthony 
Camerano, a youthful mainstay on the staff of the Associ- 
ated Press Photo Syndicate. 

The night editor had received word that the workers 
in the power house of the Brooklyn Manhattan Transit 
Company had staged a sit-down strike. It threatened a 
complete tie-up of one of the two main subway lines in 
Brooklyn. Camerano, on the night trick, was assigned 
to go to the Kent Avenue plant. On his arrival there he 
met a score of other cameramen milling around in front of 
the plant. It meant the usual pictures a night flash of 
the exterior, a shot of the strikers bunched at the windows 
jeering and laughing at the police and crowd below them. 
But Camerano wanted an interior shot, and he was de- 
termined to get it. But how? The police firmly ruled 
no photographer was to be allowed in. 

Camerano glanced upward and saw that one of the 
first story windows where some of the strikers were gath- 
ered was about fifteen feet above the ground. He went 
into action immediately. Beckoning Frank Gebman, an- 
other news photographer, to one side, he whispered his 
plans into Frank's ear. They turned and saw the police 
at a fairly safe distance from the spot. Cautiously mak- 
ing their way to a place directly below the window, 
Camerano huskily whispered to one of the strikers : u Hey, 
buddy, make a shot for me. I'll get the camera up to 
you." The striker, stirred by the boldness of the stunt, 
replied that he would. Up went Gebman on Camerano's 
shoulders and handed over the camera to the striker, giv- 
ing him a few crisp instructions how to use it. In a min- 
ute, the camera plotters saw the reflection of a flash. They 




Acme Newspictures 

A BLOW THAT ALMOST COST TUNNEY HIS TITLE 

Jack Dempsey landing the blow that floored Jack Tunney and kept him on 

the canvas for thirteen seconds during- their battle for the heavyweight 

crown at Chicago, September 22, 1927. Tunney resumed the fight and won, 

retaining his crown. 




International Newspictures 

HO-HUM MOVIE LIFE IS SO BORING 

Brought to Hollywood to act in the movies, Big Blaze prefers his native 

haunts in Africa, and gives one big yawn to make you realize he's tired of 

the movie lots. More of that fearsome display of sharp teeth, and he 

will probably be sent back. 



GET THAT PICTURE 89 

smiled. There Hvas a chance that the fellow up there 
might have missed, but still. . . . Gebman climbed on 
Camerano's shoulders once again, reached for the camera, 
whispered many thanks, and amid the cheers of the strik- 
ers, raced quickly from the scene. Later, the shot was 
found to be perfect. The two conspirators would have 
liked to have taken one more grand shot the look of 
bewilderment and chagrin on the faces of the company 
executives when they saw the picture in a page-one spread 
in the morning papers. 

Camerano is a brave fellow. Just one of a legion of 
camera bearers who withstand all the rigors of their 
profession without a murmur and take injuries in the stride 
without a twitch of a muscle. 

Tony, as he is popularly called by his co-workers, was 
covering the sinking of the steamer Lexington in the East 
River one cold Winter night. With a boy to assist him 
in carrying the equipment, he had rushed down to the 
vicinity of the Brooklyn Bridge. From the end of a New 
York shore pier he made a couple of shots of the funnel 
sticking up out of the river's murky depths. He then 
learned that the main part of the wreck was a half mile 
further upstream. On the run, Tony and the boy jumped 
into a taxi which he had kept waiting and headed for the 
scene. 

,He reached for his spread pan. The bright flare from 
the magnesium powder was what was needed to illumine 
enough of the scene to bring the wreckage into sharp 
relief. From a small bottle he dumped about two ounces 
of the dangerous powder onto the pan. He could hardly 
keep it steady. A strong wind was blowing. He reached 
into the case for his gloves but then suddenly remembered 
that he had left them in the office. Without them he 
realized that there would be some danger to the job, but 
without stopping to weigh the consequences, he kept on 
with his preparations for taking the picture. 



90 GET THAT PICTURE 

As he tried desperately to steady the pan, the wind 
blew some of the powder onto his bare hand. He pulled 
the flash, and then a terrible pain shot through him. The 
spread pan clattered to the ground. The flash had ig- 
nited the loose powder on his hand. He took one glance 
at it. It was a backened mass from finger tips to wrist. 
But Tony realized that one shot would not suffice on a 
story of that magnitude. Biting his lips from pain, Tony 
had his assistant give him four more holders and then 
made four more shots. When they reached the office, he 
handed over the holders to the editor in methodical fash- 
ion and then asked for medical assistance. He was rushed 
to the hospital in a cab. But Camerano was not content 
to rest until the doctor had phoned the office and learned 
that all his shots were good. He stayed in the hospital 
until his hand healed. 

Many photographers have been thrust into a "battle 
line" of a story with but a minute's warning, and, as a 
result, they have Jiad to suffer tortures because of the 
lack of adequate safeguards. But they never uttered a 
squeal so long as they had their trusty cameras and plenty 
of loaded holders and bulbs. Fair weather or foul, cam- 
eramen have dashed into the cockpits of planes wearing 
their ordinary street clothes, hardly suitable to withstand 
the rain or snow or the low temperatures of high altitudes, 
others have recklessly plunged into the thick of a tear gas 
attack in a strike with no masks or other protection 
against the noxious effects. And it is a common occur- 
rence for a cameraman to go without food and sleep, 
sometimes for hours stretching into days, suffering these 
privations until he has definitely "cleaned up" the story. 

When Ernest Sisto, a veteran wizard of the news lens, 
was told to load his case in a hurry and grab the first train 
for Port Jervis one August day in 1928, he little knew 
what troubles were in store for him. He had just returned 
from an ordinary ship news assignment, having been up 



GET THAT PICTURE 91 

since five that morning. Thoughts of a hot dinner were 
tickling his palate when the first words hurled at him as 
he entered the workroom of the Wide World Photos in the 
New York Times Annex were: "Merrill's plane wreckage 
has been found near Milford, Pennsylvania, right near the 
New York border. Get to Port Jervis quickly and go on 
from there. It's way up in the mountains." 

The thoughts that he was hungry and tired, and the 
fact that he was wearing a thin summer suit and ordinary 
street shoes, were not in his mind. Plenty of holders, 
bulbs, his camera destination, Port Jervis time, half 
hour to catch the train on the Jersey side. Snatching a 
flimsy, a report of the story which had come over the wire, 
he dashed into the elevator and was off. Weaving in and 
out of traffic in the cab which he had hailed on the corner 
he had time to glimpse a summary of the facts : The 
wreckage of the plane in which Mazel (Merry) Merrill, 
director of the Curtiss Flying Service on Long Island, 
and Edwin M. Ronne, manager of the Buffalo Airport, 
were flying from New York to Buffalo, was sighted by 
pilots on a mountain top near Milford, and a searching 
party had been organized to go by foot to the scene of the 
crash. 

Reaching Port Jervis, Sisto learned that a number of 
news photographers had already arrived there and gone 
on ahead with the searching party. A hired xar bumped 
him along a narrow, winding path to the foot of the 
mountain. Before him were the dense woods stretching 
upward along the mountain side. There was a narrow 
path which seemingly led into the heart of the dense 
foliage, and he decided to follow that. It was a tortuous 
climb. With every step the strap of the camera case cut 
deeper into his neck and shoulders. The going became 
tougher. Finally the path dwindled into hardly more than 
a rail width and then stopped. He hesitated for a 
moment. In what direction should he go? Before him 



92 GET THAT PICTURE 

lay a thick tangle of trees and brush. He studied the 
ground carefully and found faint impressions of foot- 
prints. He went on ahead, but would stop every now and 
again to look for the telltale evidence of trampled ground 
and bent or broken branches. Finally, after what seemed 
like days, he heard a faroff sound of voices. Gasping for 
breath, he struggled forward and almost collapsed as he 
sighted the group amid the wreckage strewn over a wide 
area. 

The troopers and civilians were placing the mangled 
remains of the fliers into wicker baskets, and the photo- 
graphers were training their cameras on the twisted 
fuselage and broken motor. They turned to look at him 
in amazement. One of the men came forward and stead- 
ied him. "How did yuh ever find us?", he asked. "Even 
trappers would a had trouble gettin' here. And lands 
sakes, man, do yuh know these woods are full o' snakes 
and wildcats?" The burly farmhand looked down at the 
cameraman in admiration. "Well, I'm here," Sisto weakly 
replied, and went to work opening his case and getting his 
camera and holders ready for action. What mattered that 
his clothes were torn in a dozen places and that he could 
hardly stand from a pain that shot upward from his soles 
to his knees. There were pictures to be taken ! 

The searchers were already starting their return trip, 
the wicker baskets with the grim remains swinging between 
two long sticks held tightly in their hands, when Sisto 
completed a half dozen shots of the wreckage. He thought 
a shot of the men holding the baskets would be worth- 
while, but the sharp command of a trooper stopped him. 
"Nuthin' doin', buddy", he shouted, and he held a pistol 
in his hand to back up his warning. Sisto rejoined the 
photographers. "Gee, that would be a swell shot," he 
kept muttering on his way back, and then an idea flashed 
in his mind. "Let's help 'em carry the baskets down, and 
maybe they'll soften a bit." So with their camera cases 



GET THAT PICTURE 93 

tugging at their backs, the cameramen took turns helping 
the party. Sisto, in spite of a hundred aches, was one of 
them. It was his idea, so he couldn't reneg. He glanced 
at his companions. They seemed prepared for this emerg- 
ency. They had on leather jackets and high heavy shoes. 
Well, he would know better next time. He kept on hob- 
bling like a wounded rabbit. 

When they reached the edge of the woods, the troopers 
relented and allowed the cameramen to take the pictures 
they wanted so badly. They figured the fellows deserved 
at least that much for being so helpful. 

The cameramen reached Port Jervis just in time to 
catch a train; not a moment to spare to stop for even a 
sandwich. They were too tired even to talk of food. 
Sisto slumped down in his seat. Numbed so by fatigue 
he was insensible to pain, and in a few minutes he was fast 
asleep. One of the fellows looked down and saw a splotch 
of blood at Sisto's feet. They bent down and removed 
his shoes. His ankles had been scraped through clean 
to the bone. The bottoms of the shoes were filled with a 
half inch of blood. They bound his feet with handker- 
chiefs. Sisto slept through it all. 

Photographers who covered the story of Floyd Collins 
trapped in Sand Cave near Cave City, Kentucky, in the 
early part of 1925, suffered the privations of hunger and 
lack of sleep for two solid weeks, but they realized that it 
was nothing in face of the tortures the trapped man was 
enduring in his vain effort to escape. They only hoped 
and prayed that he could be brought out alive. The drama 
of the grim struggle to free the man had gripped the 
world. The tunnel which led to the place where Collins 
was locked in had collapsed. It necessitated the driving 
of a shaft which took two weeks. The fight was fruitless. 
Collins was found dead. During all that time the photog- 
raphers were ever on the scene not daring to leave for a 



94 GET THAT PICTURE 

moment lest the flash come that the rescue party had 
finally reached him. 

William Eckenberg, a Wide World photographer, who 
was rushed from New York to cover the story, relates that 
in the beginning he had taken a hotel room in Cave City 
which meant continuous riding back and forth over a bad 
12-mile stretch of road. As the story grew, and efforts 
were intensified to reach the victim, Eckenberg realized 
that he would have to stay on the scene every moment of 
the day and night. He gave up his hotel room and lived 
at the cave site. He says that for the last four days of 
the story he never got to bed, and lived for the best part 
of the time on greasy sausages. He lost twenty pounds 
covering the story. Though he was one of the fortunate 
few to escape having pneumonia, he went down with a 
bad case of influenza two days after returning to New 
York. 

Eckenberg recalls an interesting experience during the 
coverage of the story. It reveals the unflagging zeal of a 
cameraman to cover all angles, not daring to miss a single 
shot, even though worn by fatigue and hunger. One 
midnight he heard that an opposition photographer had 
secured a copy of a picture Collins had made ten days 
before he was trapped. There wasn't a moment to lose. 
The picture was in a town 80 miles away. Eckenberg 
hopped into his car and drove it at full speed over rain- 
lashed, winding roads. He finally secured the original 
print, made flashlight copies just in time to make a train 
connection for New York. The undeveloped negative 
reached his home office in time to give him an even break 
with the opposition. 

Being caught between two fires is not an unusual pre- 
dicament for the photographer when he is covering a strike 
riot or a flareup during a demonstration, but Jerry 
Frankel, a New York Journal cameraman, never expected 
to be caught in that fashion when he was told by the city 



GET THAT PICTURE 95 

editor to go to a house in the upper 'yo's and photograph 
a certain young woman. 

At the time, the police were searching high and low 
for Two-Gun Crowley, a young desperado. He had taken 
the life of a policeman in Long Island, and he was be- 
lieved to be involved in a number of subsequent shootings. 
The city editor had received an anonymous tip that the 
young woman was a friend of Crowley's. This informa- 
tion was never imparted to Jerry. He left the office 
thinking it was just another casual assignment. 

Jerry arrived at the address, a brownstone house, 
climbed a flight of stairs and knocked on the door. A 
voice boomed from behind the door: "What d'ye want?", 
and then the door was thrown open. Jerry was face to 
face with a man whose eyes glittered in wrath. Jerry 
asked for Miss . . . ., and the door slammed in his face. 
"Well, isn't he the kind soul," he mused, and retreated 
to the first floor landing. Just as his hand rested on the 
knob to turn it, a crash of gunfire split the air. Then a 
return blast from the room above him. A bullet tore 
through the vestibule door, a scant few inches from where 
he stood. He flattened himself against the wall. Sudden- 
ly, a lull in the shooting, and then the door crashed in. 
A half dozen policemen streamed in, and he found himself 
looking into the muzzles of pistols, while he quakingly ex- 
plained who he was. They told him they've got Two-Gun 
Crowley cornered in the room above them. Jerry was no 
longer the quaking soul. In a few minutes he was every- 
where around the building, shooting pictures of the man- 
acled Crowley and the room in which he had made his 
last stand. Then back to the office with the first pictures 
on the story and a grand beat. His eye-witness story 
went into the first editions, and over the wires and made 
his triumph complete. 

Dodging bullets and tear gas bombs kept the camera- 
men on the qui vive while shooting pictures of the steel 



96 GET THAT PICTURE 

strike disorders in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana 
and Illinois during the late Spring of 1937. The news 
photographers were right in the thick of the battles at 
Warren and Youngstown in Ohio, at Monroe, Michigan, 
at Johnstown, Pennsylvania, and at the fatal clash at 
South Chicago in which eleven persons were killed and a 
hundred injured. It was gruelling time for the boys. It 
meant for most of them to be on the job nearly 24 hours 
of the day for no one could tell where the next flareup 
would occur. Their press passes meant little or nothing 
to the police and strikers locked in battle. Oftimes they 
became the special targets for both sides. 

There was trouble brewing in Monroe when Albert 
Haut, Detroit manager of the Wide World Photos, was 
advised by the New York editor to get there in a hurry. 
The Republic Steel Company officials were determined to 
reopen their plant on a specified day, and the pickets were 
just as determined to prevent the reopening. 

Haut arrived in Monroe a day before the strikers 
were to be ousted from their picket line located about a 
half mile from the plant on the only accessible road which 
they had blocked off. After shooting pictures of the 
pickets halting cars, policing the road and breakfasting at 
the commissary tent, he rushed back to photograph the 
deputies being sworn in as part of the vigilante group 
which the mayor was gathering. Then off to the hired 
darkroom where he developed his negatives, made prints 
and proceeded to send wired photo transmissions to vari- 
ous newspapers throughout the United States. 

The real trouble was expected on the morrow. Haut 
surveyed the scene of the possible riot, and decided that 
the best vantage point would be the main road where the 
two forces, the vigilantes and the pickets, would un- 
doubtedly meet. On one side was a branch road and on 
the other a lake. Haut figured that a hired truck would 



GET THAT PICTURE 97 

be a swell thing to give the photographers elevation and 
ability to maneuver quickly for good position. 

He talked it over with the other cameramen. They 
liked the idea. The truck was hired and placed in what 
they thought was the best position. The men were ready 
for the "fireworks." Some ground shots were made as 
the foes clashed. Then from somewhere a tear gas bomb 
was thrown among the strikers. A strike sympathizer 
pointed to the cameramen and insisted that one of them 
had thrown it. Suddenly, without warning, a veritable 
barrage of tear gas bombs burst over and around the 
truck. Some pickets dashed over and started using the 
truck as a barricade. That meant a new deluge of tear 
and nauseating gas bombs. Between shooting pictures and 
ducking the bombs, the cameramen had their hands full. 
With tears streaming down their faces and many vomiting 
from the effects of the nauseating gas, the photographers 
shouted to the vigilantes to stop shooting, but of no 
avail. The bombs fell thicker. 

The cameramen then decided to take their truck down 
the road, but the pickets followed them. The fighting was 
scattered in all directions, and their truck maneuvered 
back and forth as the fighting progressed around them. 
In spite of the thick fumes, Haut remembered to take two 
precautions which kept him on the job shooting his pictures 
without a letup. One was not to rub his eyes and the 
other to take a deep breath when he saw a nauseating gas 
bomb explode near him. He was then able to hold his 
breath until most of the fumes had evaporated. He es- 
caped being hit by the projectiles by a margin of inches as 
they swished over his head. However, in spite of all pre- 
cautions, he managed to inhale some of the gas. When 
the fighting was ended, he staggered back to the darkroom, 
developed his negatives, made prints, sent messages to the 
New York office, and transmitted many of the pictures by 
wire over his portable set. He collapsed when the work 



98 GET THAT PICTURE 

was ended, and suffered vomiting spells for a week after- 
ward. 

Haut was also in the thick of it when the riot broke 
out at the Ford automobile plant at Dearborn, Michigan, 
on May 26, following the attempt of the United Auto 
Workers Union to distribute leaflets to the workers leaving 
the plant. 

Union officials Frankensteen, Reuther and others, fol- 
lowed by newspaper reporters and photographers, had 
mounted the ramp stairway leading to the bridge near the 
plant. Some husky looking fellows sauntered over and 
told the union officials to get off the bridge. In a trice the 
men piled into Frankensteen as the photographers kept 
shooting the pictures. Then the fracas started on the 
other side of the bridge where other officials were being 
forced down the opposite stairway. The cameramen raced 
around to that side to make a few pictures of the fighting 
which continued for about twenty minutes. A Ford police- 
man dashed over and relieved Haut of most of his holders. 
Undaunted, Haut climbed a parked car to shoot pictures 
of a girl union leader being manhandled. Instantly, an- 
other Ford man was on top of Haut and snatched his 
holders from him while another pointed to the camera 
case. Hoping to save what might be a few good shots, 
Haut scrambled down, grabbed his case and ran with the 
Ford man after him. He escaped. Some of the other 
photographers were pursued in cars outside the city limits. 
One startling shot came out intact and one of the most 
damaging to the Ford cause. It showed Frankensteen, 
with coat pulled over his head, being mauled unmercifully. 

The coverage of the Republic Steel strike riot at 
Youngstown, Ohio, on the night of June 19 nearly cost 
the life of Edward Salt, a cameraman on the staff of the 
Youngstown Vindicator. 

Salt had already started on a two-weeks vacation when 
he learned of the long feared riot between police and 



GET THAT PICTURE 99 

pickets had broken out in Poland Avenue, in a foreign sec- 
tion of the city where hatred for police, steel company 
officials and newspapermen had been running high for 
more than two weeks. He dashed back to the office and 
reported for duty. 

Arriving at the scene he found police blocking the 
road at two places. They tried to turn him back, but, 
after much persuasion, he was allowed to go on. 

In a gas filled pocket between a towering hill and an 
elevated railroad, Salt found the pickets milling around 
in the streets while police tried to force them back. The 
fumes from exploded gas bombs nearly choked him. His 
first picture came almost immediately when pickets brought 
out an empty tear gas shell. He then pushed through the 
police lines, down into a "no man's land," where police 
and deputy sheriffs hidden by trucks, cars and other pro- 
tection, were returning the fire of snipers from the over- 
looking hillside. 

Down there, he learned a police car had been over- 
turned, looted and set afire by pickets. It was out in the 
middle of the gas-filled "no man's land." Salt started out, 
wanting that picture in particular for the Sunday edition. 
A string of automobiles protected him as he hunched along 
the sidewalk while bullets whizzed overhead. When he 
reached the end of the parked cars, he realized the danger 
of attempting to take a picture. Away from both police 
and pickets, he would have been the immediate target of 
a crossfire as soon as he flashed a bulb. He decided it 
was too risky. He would wait a while. 

Just then a battle broke loose. Several hundred feet 
from him, pickets rushed police. Officers retaliated with a 
barrage of tear gas. Shot guns and tear gas rifles boomed 
all around. He made some shots as the crowd of men 
and women broke and ran in an effort to escape the gas 
which police shot after them as they ran up the hillside. 

The battle died down and Salt started back to the 



100 GET THAT PICTURE 

police lines. When he reached the end of parked cars, he 
heard someone hiding in the shadows across the street 
shout: "Let him have it now." Salt ducked behind a car, 
held up the camera which they could see in the bright 
moonlight, and waited a moment. Then he walked out. 

He was half way between the car and a telephone 
pole when one of the men yelled for him to come across 
the street. Salt couldn't answer back because of the gas 
mask he was wearing. Anyway he wouldn't take the 
chance. Going there would undoubtedly mean a beating 
by the pickets, and secondly, water released from fire 
hydrants by pickets to carry away the tear gas, formed 
two miniature rivers. Salt ducked behind the pole. 

He heard one man say: "I don't know how to pump 
this thing," and another asked for the gun. A moment 
later a charge of shot hit Salt in both legs. Almost im- 
mediately there was a second shot, pellets tearing into his 
arm. With the second shot, he dashed from behind the 
pole and ran. He headed for a fire station where report- 
ers and another photographer had taken refuge from a 
menacing crowd of strikers. While several strikers lurched 
for him, Salt hammered on the barred door and was ad- 
mitted. Seeing his blood stained clothing, they decided 
immediately to take him to a hospital. 

Firemen and reporters told him they could never get 
the camera through the picket lines, so it was left behind. 
Salt stuffed the exposed film in his shirt. They reached 
the car with little trouble. Twice as they were leaving the 
zone they were stopped by barricades and ranks of men 
closing the street. But picket captains, advised he had 
been shot, had the men clear the way so they could get 
through. 

A few minutes after Salt reached the hospital, the 
first fatal victim of the riot arrived. He had been killed 
instantly by a gun charge, almost directly across the street 
from where Salt was shot. In all, two men were killed, 



GET THAT PICTURE IOI 

and more than two scores of others wounded or burned 
by tear gas. Nineteen shot gun pellets had crashed into 
Salt's legs and arms. He was in the hospital for some 
time. 

Later, Salt revisited the scene of the shooting. The 
pole behind which he had taken refuge was pitted with 
dozens of shotgun pellets. 

The steel strike disorders everywhere were terrifying 
experiences for the news photographers. At Warren, 
Ohio, three cameramen, Charles Wilk, Cleveland manager 
of Wide World Photos, Mack Baron, of International 
News, and Jack Hines, Associated Press staffer, were fired 
upon and dropped into a ditch as bullets whizzed over 
their heads. At the time, they were taking pictures of a 
food airplane landing in the Warren steel plant enclosure. 

Dodging bullets in the steel strike was just one of the 
many thrills experienced by Baron in his long career as a 
news cameraman. "Buck," as he is popularly known, has 
oftimes been called the "ace flying photographer," and the 
"fearless photographer," and has lived a veritable charmed 
life amid the dangers of his career. He has taken the 
longest chances but has always come out on top. "It can't 
be done," are words that are as unknown to him as a 
Tibetan chant. Now the Morro Castle disaster. . . . Buck 
will smile proudly when he recounts that experience. It 
brought him his greatest fame. 

The phone jangled wildly in the bedroom of Baron's 
home in Sunnyside, Long Island, one early morning in 
September, 1934. Buck stirred several times in bed, then 
finally forced himself to answer the phone. He switched 
on the light, glanced at the time (it was a little after 
three), then glued his ear to the receiver. It was his 
office calling: "The liner Morro Castle's afire off the 
Jersey coast. May be hundreds dead. Get down to North 
Beach airport right away. We'll have a plane ready for 
you to hop off at daylight." Instantly Buck was alert. 



102 GET THAT PICTURE 

As he fairly dived into his flying equipment, he took one 
glance at the window. Rain was slashing at the panes. 
"Flying weather, eh? Well, maybe. . . ." 

When he reached 'the airport in his car, everything was 
ready. Bill Gulick, a pilot for the O. J. Whitney Flying 
Service, had already warmed up his plane. They then 
waited for daylight. Dawn came with hardly a break in 
the weather. A misty rain was falling. They stepped 
outside the hangar door and could scarcely see an object 
ahead of them. Both shook their heads. Bill was game 
to take a chance and go out a little distance. They started 
and pretty soon were in the thick of it. Baron could barely 
see the outline of the wing tip in the heavy fog and rain. 
They kept on going. 

The pilot had secured the approximate position of 
the burning ship before he left the hangar. An accurate 
judge of the distance and familiar through years of flying 
with the lay of the land below him, Gulick nosed his 
plane toward the Jersey shore and kept on going. There 
was no going back so long as the gas held out. 

Buck sniffed. There was a strong smell of smoke in 
the air. They must be somewhere near the burning liner. 
The pilot turned the plane in the direction from where the 
smoke was drifting. Then suddenly, the mist lifted, the 
clouds rolled back, and the sun came through. They had 
a perfect visibility from an altitude of 500 feet. There, 
not a half mile away was the ill-fated ship spouting flames 
and smoke. 

They circled the Morro Castle, and Baron obtained 
about twelve shots in less than six minutes. They came 
down to about deck level of the burning ship for a few 
closeups. They could see a handful of persons clustered 
on the bow of the ship, waving frantically to them. A 
half-filled lifeboat was pulling away. They were grieved 
that they could not aid in the rescue, but they realized 
they were helpless. Two passenger ships and an oil tanker 



GET THAT PICTURE 103 

nearby was a welcome sight. Buck asked Gulick to nose 
down so that he could get a fairly good closeup. The heat 
was intense and the smoke nearly choked them. Several 
times they almost went into a spin, but Gulick's able pilot- 
ing kept the plane going over and round the ship until 
Buck had used all his plates. Then they turned north- 
ward. 

The return trip was more dangerous. The fog had 
returned, and with it a squall with rain. The weather 
was getting worse each minute. They figured the best 
thing to. do was to fly as low as possible and follow the 
shore. Many times they fairly skimmed the waves. A 
crash seemed inevitable, but, finally, with sighs of relief, 
they sighted the houses in the vicinity of North Beach air- 
port. They came down to a safe landing. 

At the airport Baron learned that a half dozen planes 
had tried to take to the air but were forced to return. It 
meant that his pictures were exclusive. An hour later the 
prints were rolling off the ferrotyped machines to be rushed 
to newspapers all over the country. It was fully an hour 
after that before another plane with photographer flew 
over the ship. It was one of the finest picture scoops in 
history. 

Later, Baron's thrilling pictures were introduced at the 
inquiry into the disaster. His outstanding shot, the one 
showing flames and smoke rolling upward from bow to 
stern, won him the National Headliners Award for the 
best news photograph of the year. 

Any moment of the day or night may bring a flash of 
another story like the Morro Castle fire, the Argonaut 
mine disaster, a strike riot, a train wreck, an explosion. 
Everywhere the men with the cameras are prepared for 
the dangers, the thrills, the privations. They seek no 
acclaim, want no special awards. They will modestly tell 
you: "It's just part of the day's work!" 



Chapter Vll. 
THE CAMERAMAN ON THE JOB 

The news photographer "writes" the story with his 
camera, jotting down the facts with the pressing of the but- 
ton on his speed gun or the release of the shutter. He 
manipulates his "pencil" of light and shadow with the same 
agility that the reporter records the event, and the moment 
he lifts his film from the fixative, ready for washing and dry- 
ing, is comparable to the moment the reporter affixes his 
"30", marking the end of the story. 

The cameraman must have the "eye for news" as well 
as the "nose for news," but the eye must have the assistance 
of the perfect equipment. The cameras which have been 
found to be the most practicable for press work are the 
Graflex and the Speed Graphic. 

Compact and sturdily built, and able to register as high 
as i/ioooth of a second with their anistigmatic lenses, these 
cameras have been found most suitable to withstand the 
wear and tear of frequent usage, and the ability to stop the 
fastest speed of the racing automobile and the plane in flight. 

These cameras are equippd with adjustable lens boards 
for the substitution of long and short focus lenses, and wire 
finders to sight the picture. Flash speed guns perfectly 
synchronized to the shutters for a speed up to i/2OOth of a 
second enable the cameramen to snap their pictures more 
handily and speedily when the use of the flash bulb is re- 
quired. The Graphic with an 3.5 or 4.5 lens is the 
camera used for the everyday assignment. It has a spring 
back for the insertion of the plateholder which eliminates 
the necessity of removing the ground glass and enables the 
photographer to change holders quickly without waste of 








J 



^) Acme Newspictures 

SURGEON OPERATES UPON SELF 

Dr. Evan O'Neill Kane of Kane, Pennsylvania, is shown in this unusual 
photograph as he operated upon himself for inguinal hernia. A local anaes- 
thetic was used and Dr. Kane chatted and laughed throughout the operation. 
In 1921 Dr. Kane startled the medical world by removing his own appendix. 







(P) Wide World Photos 
AN HISTORIC BIRTH 

The first picture of the quintuplets born to Mrs. Olivia Dionne as she lay 

recovering in her backwoods home near Callander, Ontario, Canada, with the 

tiny forms, weighing together only six pounds, six ounces, by her side. They 

have grown into five plump, rosy- cheeked girls. 




Wide World Photo 

HE REACHED FOR A SMOKE INSTEAD OF THE RIP 

Harold Parkhurst, Rosedale, Long- Island, daredevil, nonchalantly lights a 

cigarette while falling- from an altitude of 5000 feet, from a plane flown by 

Chick Soule. This thrilling picture was snapped by Harry Knapp from 

another plane flown by Alfred Bragos. 



GET THAT PICTURE 1 05 

time. The Graflex, an excellent reflecting camera and built 
for speed, is used in covering many sport events as prize 
fights, football, baseball and hockey games. The Graflex, 
with a 20 and 28 inch focal length lens, is heavier and stock- 
ier than the Graphic, and is termed "Big Bertha" by the 
cameraman. Though a bit cumbersome, it is ideal for the 
sports event. 

Before the photographer goes out on an assignment, he 
goes over his camera to see that everything is working prop- 
erly. There must be no chance of a breakdown during the 
coverage of a story; the lens is clean and tightly screwed on, 
the shutter-adjustments are accurate, the tension spring 
works properly, and the position of the speed gun shutter- 
relay is correct. The news cameraman watches and guards 
his equipment with the care and attention of a parent for 
its child. 

When the holders are loaded with either film or plates, 
the photographer dusts them so that no particles of dirt will 
cling to the emulsion causing pin-hole marks. The speed 
gun is tested frequently to see that the synchronization is 
perfect. 

With the camera in perfect condition, holders freshly 
loaded with either Orthochromatic or Panchromatic film or 
plates, plenty of flash bulbs, and the light but sturdy tripod 
packed in his case, the news photographer is ready for come 
what may. 

The editor calls him over to the desk and tells him that 
Myrna Loy is arriving on the Twentieth Century train. 
Hollywood actresses are always good copy. The camera- 
man saunters over to the railroad station. The publicity 
man from the studio who employs Miss Loy is on hand, 
and he informs the cameramen the name and number of the 
Pullman car in which she is riding. Miss Loy catches sight 
of the photographers and smiles as she stands on the step 
about to put one pretty foot on the platform. The lighting 



106 GET THAT PICTURE 

conditions are fairly poor, so the cameramen use their speed 
guns. In a trice, the boys have adjusted their scales, and 
shutters, sighted her through the view finders, and off go the 
flashes. The newspaper reproductions that afternoon will 
show her smiling, framed by the pullman car door. At one 
glance, the readers will know that she is arriving by train. 
The picture will have immediately told the story. 

There is a simple, but urgent, lesson taught by this 
routine assignment. The cameramen knew instinctively that 
they must give their picture locale or setting. Part of the 
train had to show in the picture. On another occasion, 
similar to this, they may vary the picture with a pullman 
porter assisting her off the train, and at another time, they 
may pose her sitting on a trunk amid much baggage. But 
the purpose in each case is identical. Miss Loy is arriving 
by train, and by no other conveyance. It is a salient point 
in picture coverage to present to the reader the visual fact 
that the scene or setting is just as the caption indicates. 

The news value of the picture is enhanced three-fold. 

An American snapped in London should be seen talking 
to a policeman, or "bobby" as he is called there, caught 
looking up at Westminster Abbey, or strolling through a 
London street with the background clearly indicated to show 
that it is London, and not the main street in. Paducah, 
Kentucky. In Paris, to be seen with a gendarme or glanc- 
ing at a typical Parisian kiosk plastered with French ads or 
seated at a sidewalk cafe ; and so on, with the setting of the 
country he is visiting as the subject's background. 

When the European celebrity visits this country, the 
news cameraman aims for the same type of picture. A 
head and shoulder closeup of a London notable visiting 
New York is of no value whatsoever to the editor of the 
London Daily Mirror, if the picture has been syndicated to 
England for sales purposes. The background of New York 
must be shown : if he is photographed in a hotel, the camera- 



GET THAT PICTURE 1 07 

man snaps him glancing outside the window even though but 
a blur of skyscraper is shown in the distance; or if he is 
strolling Fifth Avenue, a passing bus materially aids. 

The correct posing of an individual is of extreme im- 
portance. The stiff, straight look ahead deadens the picture. 
Even the faint semblance of a smile will enliven it, and there 
must be a slight turn of the head, a sort of semi-profile to 
hint that the subject is interested in other matters than the 
lens of the camera. 

When there are more than one person to be photo- 
graphed, the subjects will be told by the cameramen to en- 
gage in conversation, looking toward each other, or if seated 
at a desk or table, to look slightly down at some papers on 
the desk or table as if the camera had caught them off guard 
in the midst of a business conversation. The picture must 
have the feeling of naturalness. 

In the home, the man or woman can be photographed 
talking over the phone, listening to the radio, reading a 
book or reclining back on the chair or sofa in a homey, re- 
laxed mood, in other words, snapped in a familiar and 
natural pose. 

In many cases, if the person has not figured much in 
the news before, and the photographer knows that there are 
not many good closeups of the person in the files of his news- 
paper or syndicate, he will make an extra full-face view. 
In case of a future story break involving that person, it 
will be perfectly useable for a one-column release. Such 
one-column cuts are being constantly used by newspapers 
to illustrate stories. 

A picture can also be taken of a person who figures in 
the action of a story, and the one illustration can convey 
the whole meaning and action. A young woman of slight 
build has knocked out a i9O-pound masher. The photog- 
rapher asks her to crook her arm, with her fist tightly clench- 



IO8 GET THAT PICTURE 

ed, and look down admiringly at her biceps. This was how 
she flattened her tormentor. It tells the story in a flash. 

The photographer may also ask a person to rehearse a 
scene in order to portray more graphically the incidents of 
the story. A lad of nine, crossing a railroad track, discov- 
ered a broken rail. He heard a train approaching. He ran 
down the track, waving his handkerchief frantically. The 
engineer saw him in time and stopped the train. The boy 
became a national hero. The photographers arrived when 
the boy had already returned home. They brought him 
back to the track, and asked him to run toward them, wav- 
ing his handkerchief. It was the best picture on the story. 

The contrast of size must also be shown in the picture. 
Robert Wadlow, the world's tallest man, was brought from 
his home in Illinois to join the circus in New York. A 
diminutive air hostess standing alongside him on his arrival 
at Newark Airport emphasized his tremendous height. If 
the photographer had snapped him alone the reader would 
not have realized his unusual height, and could just as well 
be five feet tall, so far as the picture itself would indicate. 
Later he was snapped walking in Central Park. Holding 
a tot of eight by the hand also emphasized his tallness. 

A New England man possessed the smallest Bible in the 
world. The photographer focused on the tiny book held 
in the palm of a hand. The contrast of the Bible to the 
size of the normal hand indicated to the reader its true 
dimensions. 

The person snapped in action is always the desirable 
picture. A musician is photographed playing the instrument, 
the radio singer in front of the microphone lifting his or her 
voice in song, the blacksmith in the act of hitting his anvil, 
the housewife bent over her stove, the sea captain turning 
the ship's wheel, the child skating or rolling a hoop, the col- 
lege youth bent over his studies, the person on the street 
caught in a walking shot. 



GET THAT PICTURE 109 

The still object can be enlivened with the placing of a 
person in the picture. The cameraman assigned to the 
flower show asks a pretty girl to hold the prize bloom; a 
woman studying a new aluminum pan at the Hardware 
Exhibition animates the picture. Where the object in itself 
is of unusual interest, as a prize winning painting, the 
photographer will make a closeup with no one showing in 
the picture, unless he can get the artist to pose alongside. 

At times the picture editor will instruct the cameraman 
to get a series of pictures on a particular subject. The one 
wanted this time was the manufacture of dolls. The assign- 
ment was given a month before Christmas, and the editor 
was anxious to obtain an interesting series for an advance 
rotogravure release. 

The cameraman covered the assignment thoroughly 
from the testing of the raw materials to the final shipment 
of the dolls. He showed the chemist examining the mate- 
rials, the dolls' heads molded and dipped in lacquer, the 
workmen setting the eyes in the sockets with tweezers, the 
painting of the eyebrows, lips and dimples, the attachment 
of the heads to the bodies, a woman worker sewing a mohair 
wig onto a buckram cap, the apparel placed on the nude 
dolls in the assembly room, and then the final packing and 
shipping. 

A lone picture on this subject would have meant little or 
nothing; the series of eight or ten pictures was a complete 
series, and told the story in perfect sequence. 

At the Hairdressing Show and the Shoe Manufacturers' 
Convention the photographer will get the layout of the 
latest coiffures and the newest shoe models. Two or three 
of the most striking hair twists and patterned footgear will 
suffice on a coverage of these kinds. Closeups of the girls' 
heads turned to show the full effect of the latest coiffure and 
just a glimpse of the ankles with the full showing of the 
shoes are all that are needed by the photographer. 



HO GET THAT PICTURE 

It is a warm Spring day. The photographer has been 
told to get a layout of Spring pictures. The picture editor 
may give him some suggestions, but usually the cameraman 
will have the pictures he wants fixed firmly in his mind the 
minute he leaves the office. He will turn to the park, make 
shots of the children roller-skating or sailing their boats on 
the pond, snap a couple of vagrants on a bench warming 
themselves in the sun, saunter into the Zoo and snap the 
crane on the green stretching her feathers, stroll over to the 
poorer Ninth Avenue district and photograph the kids play- 
ing ball in the street and the housewives sitting on the stoops 
for a moment of fresh air and a temporary escape from the 
hot, stuffy kitchens. On his return to the office, he will 
shoot a sidewalk cafe, a row of bootblacks polishing the 
shoes of coatless men, and a bock beer sign on a saloon 
window all the signs of Spring that stir the big city to the 
awakening of the season. 

The news cameraman covering the ever-colorful and 
ever-stirring scenes of the big city has through years of ex- 
perience, and the application of a keen sense for the news 
coupled with a lively imagination been able to cover any 
type of assignment. He always strives for the different, 
the unusual, shifts and varies his attacks in his effort to es- 
cape from the sameness and the stereotyped. He is given a 
wide latitude in the semi-news and feature assignments, and 
he thrills as much in getting an unusual feature picture as 
he does in obtaining a scoop on a big news event. The artist 
in him ever struggles for expression. 

The news is combined with the feature material for the 
cameraman who covers the arrival and departure of the 
ocean liners. When the ships come in, bearing their 
notables, Americans returning from vacations abroad and 
Europeans of note arriving for a visit, the news cameraman 
is among the first to greet them. Bearing a special pass 
which is non-transferable, the photographer boards the 



GET THAT PICTURE III 

revenue cutter at the Battery in New York and is taken to 
Quarantine. Up a narrow ladder he climbs to get aboard 
the ship. On occasion, the line's publicity man will greet 
the cameramen and assist them in selecting the passengers to 
be photographed. With the New York skyline as a back- 
ground, the cameramen will line their subjects against the 
top deck rail, some waving their hands, others pointing or 
looking toward the distant skyscrapers, and then obtain 
the piquant shot of the pretty young lady with the exposed 
knee. 

The ship news photographer deals with well known 
names. Therefore, he must be considerate, quietly persuas- 
ive, and strictly the gentleman. It is not entirely the height 
of good style to shout: u Hey, Queenie, look this way!" as 
a photographer did when posing Queen Marie of Rumania 
on her arrival in this country some years ago. The breaches 
of good taste are rare these days. As a result, all celebri- 
ties, with very few exceptions, will gladly accommodate the 
photographer. 

There are many stories below deck, too. A six year 
old child traveling alone from her home in Poland to be met 
by relatives in Pittsburgh, an Esthonian who is traveling 
here to meet his brother whom he has not seen for 50 years, 
a Dutch bride and groom in their native costumes, all make 
good copy for both reporter and cameraman. 

The photographer will have learned from his editor 
that the ship had battled a terrific storm while in midocean 
or gone to the rescue of a sinking ship. Some liners will 
carry their own photographers and darkrooms, and the news 
man will obtain prints showing the mountainous waves bat- 
tering the liner or the rescue of the crew in distress. At 
other times, he will press inquiry among the passengers who 
may have obtained the pictures with their personal cameras, 
and secure a roll of unexposed film upon payment. The 
possibilities of good pictures on an incoming liner are many, 



112 GET THAT PICTURE 

and the cameraman is keenly alert from the moment he 
boards the ship at Quarantine until he leaves it upon dock- 
ing at its Manhattan pier. 

Society news occupies an important space in the news- 
paper page, and as a result the editor is anxious to obtain 
pictures of debutante and dowager at the lawn party, the 
fall hunt meet, the hotel luncheon, the costume ball and 
vacationing at Palm Beach, Newport and Southampton. 
The society wedding will find a battery of cameramen stand- 
ing outside the church doorway waiting for the appearance 
of the bride and groom after the ceremony. 

Arrangements for the appearance of the photographer 
at a society event are made a day or more in advance. Per- 
mission is generally granted. The experienced society 
photographer knows the leading matrons and debutantes on 
first glance, and so he will quietly mingle among the guests 
taking the shots he wants as they stroll or stop for a 
moment of conversation. He takes full-length shots. The 
public is interested in what society is wearing, and the 
cameraman, by polite inquiry, will learn the material and 
style of the dress, suit and hat, and the name of the fur 
flung around her shoulders. The fashion description makes 
the caption complete. 

The field of sports offers the cameraman a constant suc- 
cession of thrills and action. 

Some of the most vivid and stirring pictures taken by 
news cameramen have found their way into the sports pages : 
the knockout blow at the prize fight, the wrestler's face 
twisted in distortion as his opponent grips him in a deadly 
hold, the ball player's slide into home on a steal from 
third, the speed boat churning the water into a milky froth, 
the steeplechaser taking a nasty spill, the neck to neck finish 
in the horse race, the save by the goalie in the hockey game, 
the mile runner breaking the tape for a new world's record, 



GET THAT PICTURE 113 

the racing automobile swerving at the turn and crashing 
through the fence. 

It is a championship fight. From the moment the gong 
sounds, the cameraman on the high stand overlooking the 
lighted ring, keeps his head lowered into the hood of his 
Graflex, keeping his eyes glued on the mirror reflecting 
every action of the fighters. Down goes the camera curtain 
as the fighter gets a right to the jaw. The blow has been 
registered. Another good action, the camera clicks again. 
The magazine has been exposed. Sturdy twine is wrapped 
around it, and down it goes into the upraised hands of a 
boy who rushes it to the gate entrance. It is handed over 
to a waiting motorcycle rider who is off in a cloud of dust 
rushing it back to the office. Within a half hour or less, 
according to the distance of the arena from the office, the 
plates are already in the developer. Shortly thereafter, 
plane, train and wire transmission will carry the pictures to 
the world's far corners. 

When covering championship fights, newspapers and 
syndicates use every strategy to get the plates back to the 
office in fastest possible time. At one time, an ambulance 
clanging its way through the city streets was actually convey- 
ing a darkroom and the "patients" were excited syndicate 
employees developing the plates; on another occasion, a 
changing bag in a motorcycle with sidecar was speeding 
the developing of the pictures. 

The photographers leaving the Dempsey-Carpentier 
fight at Boyle's Thirty Acres in Jersey City some years ago 
were faced with a dilemma. Motorcycle men stationed at 
the entrances were awaiting the plates, but the cameramen 
could not get through the jam. One photographer used 
his wits to score a scoop. He kicked through a plank of the 
arena's pine floor, and dropped through into a sea of mud. 
Splashing his way through the darkness, he reached the 
outer rim of the arena. There he kicked through another 



114 GET THAT PICTURE 

panel, emerging not far from the entrance, and in a jiffy was 
in a speeding car enroute to his office, the first news camera- 
man to reach Newspaper Row with the pictures of the 
knockout blow. 

The same excitement that attends a championship fight 
is present at a World Series baseball game. Several camera- 
men will watch for the closeup action at first and third base, 
while several more will be in the stands with their telephoto 
lenses. The action at home plate is carefully watched. Click 
go a score of cameras when the player rounds home after 
lifting a four-bagger into the stands, or the slide into home 
en another player's sacrifice hit. From the moment the first 
ticket purchaser lines up at the window in the wee hours of 
the morning the cameraman is kept continually on the go: 
the players warming up, the rival managers, the bleacherites, 
the notables in the stands. 

There is one picture the public has never seen: the 
players in the dressing room before the game. The man- 
agers are set against it for there is a belief that the players 
will meet defeat if they allow themselves to be caught by the 
cameras in the dressing rooms. Managers of teams who are 
about to clinch a pennant will not allow a group picture to 
be made until the pennant has actually been won. Super- 
stition again but what can you do with fellows who believe 
so thoroughly in rabbit feet, elephant charms, and other 
talismans. 

The football game offers a more difficult problem to the 
cameraman. Instead of concentrating on a given spot as 
first and third bases in baseball, and the limited space in 
boxing, he must keep the ever moving mass formations con- 
stantly within range of his camera. He must also be con- 
versant with the various plays, and shoot at the exact 
moment as a player is off for an end run, a plunge through 
scrimmage, the start and finish of a forward pass. He is 
faced with changing light conditions and adjusts his speeds 



GET THAT PICTURE 115 

accordingly. Poor weather does not stop the game, and 
the cameraman stands his ground on a sideline as rain and 
sleet batter his face, and driving snow almost blinds him. 
There is no retreat: he sticks until the final whistle ends the 
game in the gathering dusk of a late Fall afternoon. Many 
a deciding play has been made in the last few minutes of the 
game. 

At the track meet, the click of the camera is like the 
staccatic burst of machine gun fire. Event follows event in 
rapid succession, and the cameraman is ever on the move, 
snapping the pole vaulter going over, the shotputter in ac- 
tion, the loo-yard dashers flashing across the tape in a light- 
ning burst of speed, the milers swinging around the first 
turn, the hurdlers going over the obstacles in a perfect 
rhythm and motion of arms and legs. Some news camera- 
men have been known to take as many as seventy pictures 
at one day's events such as the Penn Relays in Franklin 
Field, Philadelphia. 

In horse racing the cameraman tries for the thrilling 
drive toward the finish line and is ever on the alert for the 
spill. Generally he works from the judge's stand or the 
outside rail. One of the most unusual head-on shots was 
taken by Charles Brinkman, when he was employed by the 
Pacific and Atlantic Photos syndicate. He crawled under 
the fence, flung himself face down in the turf, and turned his 
camera up toward the charging horses, drawing himself 
back in time to miss the flying hoofs by inches. It was 
quite foolhardy, but he got an unusual shot. The race stew- 
ards later put a ban on such attempts. A horse shied, spill- 
ing its rider, when he saw a cameraman leaning from under 
the rail. It was too risky a venture for cameramen, jockeys 
and horses. 

In every form of sport the cameraman watches for the 
crucial moment of play : at the tennis game he strives for the 
closeup of the player connecting with the ball, and often gets 



Il6 GET THAT PICTURE 

the unusual shot of the ball in midair or seemingly glued to 
the racquet at the moment of contact; working from the 
sidelines at the polo match with his eleven inch lens, he gets 
the charging rider with swinging mallet, and at the soccer 
game, the player leaping into the air as his head bounces the 
ball back into play. Every second of play must be watched, 
and the photographer is a tense bundle of nerves and concen- 
tration from the minute the referee or umpire signals the 
start of the game. 

The same photographer who covered the sports story 
may be called upon the same day to cover the fire, the acci- 
dent, the crime. These big news stories can be safely placed 
in one category. The cameraman knows that there are 
certain shots to be made to cover the story fully. Speed on 
such events is most essential, and so he clips time with his 
split-second shots to rush back to the office with the essentials. 
He follows a fairly well-set procedure in big news coverage. 

Stepping carefully over twisted hose, plunging through 
pools of water, he will train his camera on the firemen pour- 
ing streams on the flames, get several shots of the smoke 
billowing from the roof and windows, then dash over to get 
a picture of the fi**e chief directing the battle. There may be 
a back draught and firemen may be tumbled to the ground; 
he will rush to get his shots of the injured being treated by 
the ambulance surgeon. To get the general view he will 
climb atop the roof of a neighboring building. On a four 
or five alarm fire, a boy will have accompanied him, and he 
will send the lad scampering back with the first few shots. 
If the fire starting from an inconsequential blaze sweeps to 
intensity, and no boy will have accompanied him to the 
scene, he will rush to the nearest taxi driver to give him the 
first plates for a speedy trip to the office. When the fire will 
have died down, he will focus his camera on the smouldering 
ruins, and, if permission is granted, will accompany the fire- 
men into the building to make interior shots. 



GET THAT PICTURE 117 

Night views of fires are more difficult, and the spread 
pans to give a more intense light than the flash bulbs are 
brought into play. The pouring of the magnesium powder 
onto the pans is a risky procedure. Great care should be 
taken that the powder bottle is securely corked after pour- 
ing as a flying spark from the fire may fall into it and cause 
a violent explosion. Many news photographers have been 
seriously injured by the exploding of the powder in the 
bottle or on the pan before the cameraman was set to release 
the trigger. 

In the early days of news photography, before the intro- 
duction of the spread pan, the cameraman covering the night 
fire would follow a still more dangerous routine. He 
would set up his camera on tripod on a neighboring roof. 
An assistant would pour the powder into the rain gutter 
near the edge of the roof, throw a flaming stick into it from 
a distance, and then run. Sometimes the force of the ex- 
plosion would tear the edge of the roof away, and both 
cameraman and assistant would have to make a hasty flight 
lest the owner catch them. But, invariably, the cameraman 
first got his picture ! 

A murder story breaks. The scene of the crime is an 
uptown apartment house. The cameraman will start at 
once for the scene. He is notified by the police officials that 
the husband of the slain woman is on his way from his 
office. As he steps from the taxi, a battery of cameramen 
pull their flashes. The janitor has been questioned, and the 
boys will be allowed to take his picture. The routine covers 
the questioning of other persons. Sometimes the cameramen 
will be forced to stay outside the building, while on other 
murder stories be permitted to occupy a nearby room or 
stay in an outer hallway. Days may pass before the news 
photographers are allowed inside to make pictures of the 
room. 

The cameraman never leaves the scene of the story until 



Il8 GET THAT PICTURE 

he is relieved by another photographer, and must keep in 
constant touch with the office to advise or be advised of 
further developments. A break in the story may come at 
any moment. 

Another photographer will have been dispatched to the 
nearest police station. He awaits there the arrival of sus- 
pects or witnesses held for further questioning, or the distri- 
bution of pictures of the victim or suspects by the police. 

Evidence is sent to Police Headquarters, and so another 
cameraman is sent there. One of the most important pic- 
tures in the recent Titterton murder case in New York was 
a closeup of a strand of upholsterer's twine found on the 
scene of the crime. This lone clue later led to the appre- 
hension of the murderer. 

The cameraman on a crime story must not overlook any 
possible picture. Hours may pass after a crime is discov- 
ered before further witnesses are questioned or evidence 
revealed, but the photographer must be patient, and have 
his ears and eyes wide open for any new turn or break in 
developments. 

On a riot story the cameraman will have to have the 
agility of a cat and the fleetness of a doe to get the desired 
shots. Here is a policeman battering a rioter's head with 
his night stick; a quick turn of the head, and he sees a detec- 
tive in grips with another civilian; look out, a mounted 
policeman is heading in his direction, and the photographer 
steps away in the nick of time. Over there, the crowd is 
breaking and running, and the cameraman trains his box in 
that direction. A yell of warning, he ducks his head in time 
to escape a flying brick. The sight of the police card stuck 
in the band of his hat may sometime mean nothing to the 
enraged police and crowd, and he becomes involved in the 
melee as a target from both sides. He must be careful that 
the surging crowd does not crush him and his camera to the 
ground. The photographer cares little that he suffers a few 



GET THAT PICTURE 119 

bruises and cuts, or tears in his clothing, so long as his 
equipment is intact. He does not want to miss a good shot 
of the battle. 

Photography from the air has stirred the imagination 
of the news photographer from the earliest days of the 
profession, and he finds it a keen, exciting adventure. 

Jimmy Hare, soldier of fortune and photographer, took 
the first air view of Manhattan from a free balloon in 1906. 
But his success was not crowned with easy effort. For a 
week the balloonist and Hare rested on Staten Island wait- 
ing for a favorable wind. At last the day came, and up 
they went. Suddenly the breeze died down to a mere fan- 
wave, and the balloon could not rise further. Hare's quick 
wits found a solution. He pitched the balloonist' s overcoat 
and his own overboard. It helped a little, but not much. 
Then went Hare's extra plates and holders over the side. 
The balloon lifted higher, and Hare took his picture. Later, 
he took the first photograph from an airplane in this country 
on a short flight from Fort Sam Houston at San Antonio, 
Texas. 

Today, taking pictures from the air is a daily occurrence. 
With his hands firmly locked on the side handles of the 
aerial camera, the photographer will order the pilot to cut 
and bank, while he gets his desired shot, a forest fire, a burn- 
ing arsenal, a ship in flames at sea or breaking up on the 
rocks, a dirigible floating in the distance, a formation of 
Army planes zooming by, an airview of a city, a shot of a 
country estate or plane wreckage high up on a mountainside. 

The cameraman may have to fly through fog and mist 
and cloud, rain and sleet and snow, to get his picture, but 
there is nary a thought of danger or disaster in his mind 
when he boards the plane. He will sometimes wear inade- 
quate clothing but he would rather freeze than order the 
pilot to return. Airsickness may make him deathly weak, 
but he will quiet trembly hands and limbs to focus sharply 



120 GET THAT PICTURE 

on the scene. The coolness, daring and loyalty of the flying 
photographer is summed up in the experience of the camera- 
man who was tumbled out of the plane when it was forced 
to land on a rocky terrain, turning over when it nosed into 
a stone wall. The photographer's first words on scrambling 
to his feet were : "Wonder if there's a nearby farmhouse, so 
I can phone the office." 




Acme Newspictures 

NABBING A TEXAS OUTLAW AND HIS WIFE 

While his wife struggles with officers at the left, Marvin Barrow, member 
of a gang- of Texas outlaws, sinks to the ground, at right, after being shot 
in gun battle with the posse near Dexter, Iowa. Other members of the gang 
escaped after the battle in which machine guns, .rifles and pistols blazed. 
The cameraman was just as quick with his camera as the police with their 
guns to make this unusual picture the moment the posse closed in. 



I 




HI 



(r) International News Photos 

FALLING TO HIS DEATH 

A split-second shot of a tragedy the automobile turning over throwing out 
Mfss May Cuncliffe, English auto racer, and her father, during a 100-mile 
race held at Southport Sands, England. An instant later he was pinned 

beneath the car and killed. 







Signal Corps, U. S. Army 
"GOING OVER THE TOP" 

The zero hour, and the American doughboys clamber over the top from their 
front line trench somewhere in France during the World War. Note the 
soldier thumbing his nose at the enemy. The Signal Corps photographers 
were right up at the front to snap scenes such as this, and many were killed 

and wounded. 





Signal Corps, U. S. Army from Wid 

IN THE THICK OF THE BATTLE 

The war photographer plunged ahead with the front line troops to make this 
striking picture of American doughboys, Third Infantry gunners, firing 
37 mm. shells during an advance against German entrenched positions in 

northern France. 



Chapter Fill. 
THE CAMERAMAN COVERS THE DAILY EVENT 

EVERY news picture tells a story, and behind that, lies the 
hand that guides the camera, the eye that envisions the scene 
and the mind that grasps the news fundamentals with an 
unerring precision the perfect coordination that lifts the 
news cameraman from the mere picture-taker to the expert 
recorder of life on a camera plate. 

The art of news photography is much more than the 
pressing of a cable release, the adjusting of scales and 
shutters and the sighting of an object through a view finder. 
It is the ability of the news cameraman to go beyond the 
mechanics of exact procedure, and feel, sense and record 
the story with the vividness of the news gatherer. 

Each story presents a different problem, a different 
attack. The news cameraman brushes aside all difficulties, 
and overcomes all obstacles. He reaches the zenith of his 
career after years of tilting with the exciting, the thrilling, 
and even the prosaic. 

Not every story is a shipwreck, five-alarm fire or plane 
disaster. He follows life in its true course, the moments 
and incidents that are drab and dull. His daily assign- 
ments follow the uninteresting routine of club meetings 
and dinners and cornerstone layings. They may be thank- 
less jobs, but he accepts them all willingly. It is not for 
him to choose, it is for him to do his duty and do it well. 

From the moment he leaves the office with his camera 
case in hand, he has one fact etched clearly in his mind. 
He must bring back the picture. There is no such word 
as failure. He will have seen to it that his case is packed 
with the essentials, his sturdy, compact 4x5 Speed Graphic, 



122 GET THAT PICTURE 

a dozen holders loaded with fast emulsion films, a dozen 
flash bulbs, a speed gun accurately synchronized, a tripod 
with a Crown head. His films and holders will have been 
properly numbered, his camera will have been gone over 
that there is no loose screw and part. The story has been 
given to him by the editor. He sallies forth into the un- 
known. 

If it is a club meeting or the laying of a cornerstone 
set for a certain hour, he will take his leisurely time, pro- 
viding, however, he arrives there a few minutes ahead of 
schedule, so that he can present his proper credentials, 
make his introductions to the right persons in charge, learn 
who is present, and with a sweep of his eye take in the 
scene which he will photograph. He then opens his case, 
withdraws and sets his camera, gets his focusing distance. 
Let the meeting or the ceremonies begin. He is ready! 

If it is an accident or disaster, he knows that speed 
is necessary; every second counts. He will hop into a 
taxi and order the driver to make the fastest possible time. 
He knows that his camera will record only what is before 
it. He wants to reach the scene before the fire dies down 
or the accident victim is carried away. It may be broad 
daylight or raining heavily, he knows what speed he will 
shoot, what aperture opening he will set; his camera is 
ready in his hand all set to shoot the moment he arrives 
at the scene of the story. 

On a story of this type, his job is a bit more exciting 
than his brother reporter. The latter can arrive there too 
late, but it will not make much difference. He can get his 
story from the eyewitnesses or police remaining on the 
scene, or can get the information he desires from other 
reporters. It makes no difference to him that the fire has 
been extinguished or the injured persons have been rushed 
to the hospital. He will have been told all the details which 
in a moment can be phoned to a rewrite man at the office. 



GET THAT PICTURE 

But not so with the cameraman. It is necessary that his 
camera record all the details : the fire at its height, firemen 
pouring water on the blaze, the rescue of the victims, or 
at the street accident, the ambulance surgeon bending over 
the victim or lifting him onto a stretcher to be rushed to 
the hospital. 

Many unusual photographs on such stories have been 
taken by the Johnny-on-the-spot cameraman, and such pic- 
tures live in the memory of the readers. Who will ever 
forget the picture that appeared in the New York Daily 
News showing the form of a dead woman lying on the 
pavement of a narrow Brooklyn street awaiting the arrival 
of the ambulance to carry it away as the husband in the 
foreground sags broken-heartedly against the wall of a 
building looking toward his mate, gone forever, the victim 
of an automobile accident? Or that shot taken at a tene- 
ment house fire showing two victims, clad in their night 
clothes, rushing into the house of a neighbor, one looking 
back with horror on her face at the flames destroying her 
flat? 

These are the pictures that send a thrill through the 
office, from managing editor to copy boy, with cries of 
exultation: "It's a beaut'!" "It's great!" "Some pic- 
ture !", leaping from the throats of every employe from the 
moment the darkroom printer holds the plate up to the red 
light in the developing room. It is like the discovery of 
gold in the prospector's pan, the uncovering of some an- 
cient ruins by the archaeologist, the scaling of the peak by 
the mountain climber, it is the cry of "Eureka!" on the 
finding of a treasure! But it is no sinecure, no chance 
stumbling, no Lady Luck to guide the way; it's by dint of 
hard, conscientious work, day in and day out that brings 
a golden moment of achievement to the news cameraman. 

The faculties of the news photographer are ever alert 
to the picture possibilities. He can sense the story, the pic- 



124 GET THAT PICTURE 

ture, whatever or wherever it is. One day, a photographer 
was on his way to an assignment in downtown New York. 
Waiting on the corner for the traffic light to shift from 
red to green, he saw a cat gripping a kitten in its mouth 
start across Broadway. The traffic policeman saw them, 
too, and up went his hand in a flash to stop traffic. The 
photographer leaped into the middle of the street, and 
in a few seconds had his camera trained on the cat, the 
traffic cop with arm upraised, the automobiles brought to 
a standstill. The result was one of the greatest pictures 
ever made. The syndicate, which later secured the nega- 
tive for its files, is still selling hundreds of prints, and 
the photograph has been reproduced in every part of the 
world. It took less than a minute for the cat to cross the 
street. Had the photographer just hesitated for a second 
he would have been too late, and the golden chance would 
have been lost forever. 

On another occasion, the news cameraman, through in- 
stant action, recorded another epic of the camera. A few 
photographers were shooting pictures of Columbus Day 
exercises at Columbus Circle in New York when a distant 
shot rang out. All but William Eckenberg, a Wide World 
cameraman, thought it was the backfire of an automobile. 
He immediately turned and ran toward the direction of 
the firing. It was about a block down the street. When 
he reached there a huge crowd had already gathered around 
the prostrate form of a thug who had been shot down by 
a policeman. Pushing through the crowd, Eckenberg 
reached the open circle where the man lay groaning, with 
hands pressed on stomach, and a girl holding his head in 
her lap. The policeman was waiting for the ambulance 
to rush him to the hospital. Eckenberg got his pictures, 
and pushed his way back to the rim of the crowd just as 
the other photographers arrived. But they could not 
squeeze through, the jam had become too thick by this 



GET THAT PICTURE 125 

time, and they had to be content scrambling up to the 
second floor of a nearby building to get some shots which 
showed mostly the heads of the crowd. Quick decision had 
given Eckenberg a news triumph of the camera. 

Coolness in any emergency is also another requisite of 
the news photographer, and it may take years and years 
of training for the cameraman to keep his eyes and hands 
and nerves steady at the critical moment. It may not be 
funk, but just a bad case of stage fright, which will place 
the beginner in an awkward situation. 

A youthful cameraman, who had just entered the em- 
ploy of a syndicate a few months previous, had his camera 
set on tripod making a general view of a building near 
Broad and Wall Streets in New York when a terrible 
explosion rocked the whole neighborhood. With his arms 
circled around the camera and tripod the photographer 
managed to save them from falling. Further down the 
street cries of the injured filled the air. A truck filled with 
dynamite had exploded directly in front of the Morgan 
offices. Shattered glass filled the street. Dozens of bodies 
lay sprawled on the sidewalks. The cameraman moved 
forward to take some pictures, but he was trembling from 
head to foot. Nervously he shoved holders in and out. 
He was the only cameraman on the scene and it was fully 
a half hour before a score of other news men appeared. 
He then ran to the drug store and phoned his office de- 
scribing the scene and told the excited editor that he had 
taken some pictures. He rushed back. Out of his dark- 
room came a half dozen plates, but not an image on a 
single one. In his nervousness and excitement he had for- 
gotten to do something, he himself did not know. He 
slumped; his chance of a lifetime had come and gone. An 
experienced cameraman would have stood the shock of the 
catastrophe and coolly gone about his job of taking the 



126 GET THAT PICTURE 

pictures. Those are the moments when the photographer 
is put to the iron test. 

Imagine the moment when Tom Howard, Chicago Tri- 
bune and New York News photographer, was called upon 
to shoot the picture of the execution of Ruth Snyder at 
Sing Sing prison, the first time a picture was ever taken 
there of an electrocution. It is a test which will even shatter 
the nerves of the hardest of cameramen. But Howard had 
to go through with it. It was an assignment; it was his job 
to take the picture. 

It was all pre-arranged for the reporter in front to 
move his legs so that Howard could focus on the chair with 
his tiny camera strapped to his ankle and connected by bulb 
resting in his pocket. It was all guess focus, and Howard 
pressed his bulb four times, as much as he could possibly 
make without exciting the suspicions of the guards. Though 
his whole body quivered and shook, he remained outwardly 
calm. There could be no misfire, and he steeled himself 
to rigidity the instant he pressed the bulb. The slightest 
motion of his body would have thrown the pictures entirely 
out of focus. 

Only until he reached the News darkroom and thrown 
the films into the developer, did he relax, though his body 
still shook like a leaf. But the ordeal still was not over. 
The first film lifted to the front of the red light showed 
only the feet, the second was a blank, the third also showed 
the feet but more of the body occupying a corner of the 
negative, and the fourth was the shot, slightly out of focus, 
but retouchable and useable. The men in the darkroom 
let out a whoop. The job was done. The picture was, 
and still is, a sensation of the news world. 

Whatever the ethics of the case may be, it is not for 
the cameraman to question. The News defended their 
picture; others attacked it. It was not for Howard to 



GET THAT PICTURE 127 

argue, pro or con. He was simply told to cover the story, 
and he did. 

The public has been too often presented with the picture 
of the cameraman, by medium of film or story, as a brusque 
individual who dashes into bedrooms to snatch photographs 
from bureau drawers and walls, or rummage through the 
pockets of a victim for his likeness. There may have been 
a few instances of the like in the early days of catch-as- 
catch-can and hurly-burly journalism, when cameramen 
sniffed scornfully at the word ethics. Those were the raw, 
rough days when the tabloids and others of a sensational 
tinge were jockeying for position in the race for circulation. 
The years, however, have chastened the editors; with cir- 
culation and security won, the papers have settled down 
into a state of fair respectability, and the cameraman no 
longer strikes terror into the hearts of his subjects. 

The cameraman today still yearns and strives to get 
the picture on the story, but he will not violate the fine 
rules and ethics of good journalism that hold in the city 
room. The public no longer shies at his presence; the 
majority of persons will gladly assist the gentlemanly 
cameraman, and the police have learned to cooperate as 
they seldom did in the past. A picture of a criminal is 
wanted: the headquarters will kindly release a rogues gal- 
lery shot; a new picture is wanted after an arrest, the boys 
will be allowed into an anteroom to allow them to make 
the shot of the prisoner being questioned by the district 
attorney or held between detectives before he is led back 
to further questioning or thrown into a cell. 

There is no longer the need to follow the tactics of the 
early Park Row photographer who was assigned to get 
pictures of a man accused of a fiendish crime on Long 
Island. The keeper of the jail had barred the photographer 
from the building, saying the prisoner was very weak. Hang- 
ing around until after dark, the cameraman borrowed a 



128 GET THAT PICTURE 

crowbar from a neighboring blacksmith shop, climbed on 
a roof and attacked the barred window. He located the 
cell where the half-conscious prisoner was stretched out on 
a cot, broke in and set off a flash of the accused man. The 
cameraman then made his getaway. 

Today there is cooperation all along the line. Detec- 
tives on a major crime story will often gather in pictures 
of the victim, and if there are enough copies, will distribute 
them, or if there is only a single shot, will allow the camera- 
men to make copies then and there. Judges, too, at court 
trials, will set aside a special place for the cameramen, or 
allow pictures of witnesses to be taken in anterooms. Pic- 
tures may also be allowed to be taken between sessions, say 
at the noon hour or after the testimony has been finished 
for the day. 

In the Loeb-Leopold murder trial in Chicago in 1924, 
the presiding judge allowed photographs to be taken at the 
noon session. At the Hall-Mills murder trial in Somerville, 
N. J., in 1926, Justice Cleary laid down a rule limiting 
pictures to be taken from the sides of the room, and at 
the trial of Bruno Hauptmann for the kidnaping and mur- 
der of the Lindbergh baby, in Flemington, N. J., in 1935, 
two photographers were allowed in to make pictures for 
release to all syndicates and newspapers. 

In a murder trial at Detroit, when jurymen protested 
that flashlights had prevented them hearing the evidence, 
the judge said: "Please be patient. The safety of the 
administration of criminal law is publicity," and the pho- 
tographers remained undisturbed. 

Even in France it is not unusual for special lights to 
be erected to assist the cameramen to get the pictures of 
the court proceedings. This was done at the trial of "Blue- 
beard" Landru, who went on trial for the murder of ten 
of his numerous financees, so that pictures could be taken 
of the passing of the death sentence. 



GET THAT PICTURE 129 

Attacks on photographers are quickly settled, and con- 
doned. Just recently a prisoner broke away from his guard 
and felled a cameraman about to take his picture. The 
guards pounced on the prisoner, striking him in the jaw, 
and the cameraman was allowed to snap his shot. 

When Dr. Alice Lindsay Wynekoop, defendant in a 
murder trial in Chicago, fainted during the proceedings, 
a photographer tried to snap the picture. A defense at- 
torney hurled a three pound law book at the cameraman, 
striking him in the forehead in an attempt to prevent the 
picture being taken. The attorney later apologized. 

The photographers today will strictly abide by the 
court's decision on the privilege of taking pictures. The 
Federal Courts will allow no courtroom shots; the camera- 
men will make no attempt to override the edict. In Wash- 
ington no pictures are allowed to be made during a Supreme 
Court session. 

Any other rules set down against the taking of news 
photographs are closely observed. The Senate in Wash- 
ington allows no pictures to be taken during any of its 
sessions; the House of Representatives permits no photo- 
graphs to be made on the floor when the members are con- 
vened. The cameramen in the Capital will make no move 
to violate the rules. Their gentlemanly conduct has re- 
dounded to their benefit because where they are privileged 
to make their pictures they are treated with every courtesy 
and consideration. 

However, a cameraman will feel that there is no abuse 
of privilege or conduct when he snaps a picture of a person 
who figures in the news, even though* that person may be 
averse to having his or her picture taken. Justifiably, the 
photographer feels that he is recording a story with his 
camera and is entitled to present his camera-story for pub- 
lication by the same token a reporter is privileged to present 
his written material for public perusal. Just so long as he 



130 GET THAT PICTURE 

does not break the rule of decency and fair play in getting 
his shot. He would not think of taking a picture of a 
judge in an intoxicated condition or a young woman found 
in a promiscuous situation. 

Once a photographer at a night club snapped a picture 
of a young woman, well-known to the public, engaged in 
conversation with a young man. After the picture was 
taken, the young lady quietly asked the cameraman not to 
have the picture circulated. It might embarrass her; her 
husband was away, and the public might give the picture 
the wrong interpretation. The young man was a good friend 
but there was no further explaining. The cameraman 
pulled his slide, snapped out the plate and deliberately 
exposed it. The young woman thanked him profusely. 
He had won her friendship for life, and on many occa- 
sions thereafter she 'phoned him to give him tips on many 
exclusive society pictures. However, he had learned his 
lesson, too. Thereafter, he first begged the kind permis- 
sion of persons at night clubs and society events before 
setting off his flash. 

Men and women who are in the public eye today are 
generally not averse to having their pictures taken. Many 
of them have learned it is far better to face the camera 
with a pleasant smile than to duck and run and witness 
themselves in newspaper reproductions in the most ludi- 
crous poses. 

At one time, J. P. Morgan, the mogul of finance, would 
use every strategy to evade the cameraman. Caught aboard 
a ship returning from Europe one day he ran toward the 
photographer brandishing his cane; on another occasion, 
he was caught by the flash of a speed-gun ducking behind 
some palms. They were not in the least flattering. His 
attitude suddenly changed when he appeared before the 
Senate Munitions Committee hearing in Washington, and 
allowed himself to be taken in all sorts of poses. He even 



GET THAT PICTURE 131 

smiled when his photograph showing a midget on his lap was 
circulated far and wide. 

There are still a few persons who will flee on the ap- 
proach of the cameraman. Greta Garbo tries to elude 
the news photographer on every occasion, and Katherine 
Hepburn, the movie actress, follows suit. Miss Hepburn, 
accompanied by her maid, was entering a New York theatre 
one night, when she spotted a photographer training his 
camera on her. She turned on her heels and fled. The 
camera clicked. The following day a newspaper reproduc- 
tion showed the form of the actress contorted in a flying 
leap. It was far from flattering. 

Rudy Vallee, the crooner of love songs, is another celeb- 
rity, who tries to avoid the cameraman. In Boston, re- 
cently, a battery of cameramen were awaiting his appear- 
ance outside a court building. Sighting them, he turned 
and fled inside, the photographers after him. Into an 
elevator they went, but they were so jammed together that 
they had no room to work their cameras. On leaving 
at an upper floor, Rudy dashed into a closeby room and 
barred the door. In hushed tones, the cameramen went 
into consultation. A few minutes passed, and a heavy 
hand knocked on the door. A voice announced that he 
was an employee who must get into the room at once to 
transact some business. The door was opened, and the 
grinning photographers entered. The cameramen got 
their pictures. 

There are some persons who feel unusually sensitive 
about their facial features or expressions. The former 
Mayor John O'Brien of New York felt that his pugna- 
cious jaw did not show to the best advantage in news pic- 
tures, and for a long time stormed at the cameramen who 
tried to get his picture. But he finally succumbed, and the 
man with the fighting jaw became quite friendly to the 
news photographers. 



132 GET THAT PICTURE 

Sinclair Lewis, the novelist, left his dinner in a New 
York hotel one evening because he did not want to be 
photographed while eating. "They always get you like this 
I've seen so many come out like this," he added, distorting 
his face to illuminate his point. However, he needed only 
to explain his objections to be accommodated. The pho- 
tographers caught him in more favorable poses. 

The late Senator Huey Long, the Kingfish of Louis- 
iana, was an enigma to the news photographer. In New 
York, whenever he visited the city, he was the gracious 
soul, and the click of the camera was a familiar sound in 
his hotel room. He even posed at the bar one day show- 
ing how he mixed his favorite drink. In his home baliwick, 
he presented the reverse, and no cameraman dared take 
his picture alighting from the train or walking in the street 
without fear of being attacked by one of his bodyguards. 
A blow to the face and a smashed camera was the reward 
reaped for many such an effort. 

The late Sir Basil Zaharoff, the mystery man of mu- 
nitions, did everything possible to evade the cameraman, 
but the telephoto lens caught him on a few occasions dur- 
ing his frequent sojourns in the French Riviera. One cam- 
eraman after a long time caught up with Robert Elliot, New 
York State executioner, the most elusive of persons, and a 
story on Elliot will always carry the single, poor, slightly- 
out-of-focus profile. 

The public must realize that it is hard to avoid the 
quick-trigger cameraman, and it is far better to succumb 
graciously. The brandished cane or stick, or threat of 
punishment and reprisal, will never intimidate the news 
photographer. 

In the sports field, it is mostly gracious acquiescence, 
although there are a few individuals here and there who 
grudgingly pose for the camera. Babe Ruth would let 
out a few explosive remarks before doing his stuff for the 



GET THAT PICTURE 133 

photographers; Big Bill Tilden, the tennis star, would 
nettle the cameramen with his temperamental outbursts, 
but since turning pro has become an amiable subject. Fred 
Perry, former world's tennis champion, and now a pro, 
has always endeared himself to the cameraman with his 
kindly, gracious ways. Mike Jacobs, the sports promoter, 
sees to it at all times that the photographers are given the 
most courteous consideration. In his sports arena, he has 
moved the cameramen into the front row seats so that they 
can get their ringside shots. By far and large, the well- 
known figures of the sports world have shown themselves 
to be true sportsmen and women in their relations with 
the men with the cameras. 

The cameramen covering the White House have always 
found its occupants to be very pleasant and agreeable. 
Although President Wilson was a bit cold and aloof, and 
President Coolidge somewhat gruff and eager to pose 
his own shots, they never dissented. President Harding 
made a hit with his warmth and geniality. The boys have 
taken President Franklin D. Roosevelt to their hearts. 
He has been found to be most attentive to their wants. 
Only one incident has marred their visits to the White 
House, although it was not really the fault of the camera- 
men. A candid camera shot was circulated with the caption 
that the President was deeply worried about his problems. 
It showed his fingers pressed to his forehead. In reality 
it was a reflex motion to shade his eyes from the glare of 
the flashlights. Rightfully, the President was irked. 

The kindliness of the President and Mrs. Roosevelt 
in their relations with the press, is illustrated in the follow- 
ing incident. 

George Alexanderson, a Wide World photographer, 
was covering the President's stay at his Hyde Park estate, 
and lived with other news cameramen at a nearby Pough- 
keepsie hotel. During a lull in his assignment, George 



134 GET THAT PICTURE 

decided to take a cooling plunge in a public pool, and while 
climbing a ladder for a dive, slipped and injured his ankle. 
In terrible agony, he was assisted back to the hotel. But 
he was downhearted for another reason. There was to be 
a picnic that afternoon arranged by the President for the 
cameramen on the lawn of his home, and George decided 
to go. A three-dollar pair of crutches was bought by the 
boys, and he hobbled onto the lawn. Suddenly the end of 
the crutch struck a hole, and he fell. The pain was excruci- 
ating and he could not rise. He was carried into the 
President's home, and Mrs. Roosevelt rubbed alcohol on his 
ankle until the physician arrived. Comfortably tucked 
into a car, he was carried back to his hotel room. An 
X-ray the following morning revealed he had a broken leg. 
All during his convalescence, he was the recipient of many 
messages of good cheer from the Roosevelts who also saw 
to it that he was well taken care of. They sent him many 
large baskets of flowers. 

It was a demonstration of friendliness which the camera- 
men will never forget. 

The settings can either be a White House office or a 
lumber camp in Wisconsin, a dowager's ballroom or an 
East Side tenement. The Welcome mat is stretched out 
for the photographer's reception. Men will straighten 
their ties and crease their pants, women will curl the loose 
ends of their hair and look twice in their mirrors to see 
that they have their lips and cheeks correctly rouged. The 
photographer is no longer taboo. The press and the public 
must be served! 

Arriving at a private or public function, a press repre- 
sentative or publicity man will see to it that the boys are 
placed at a special guest table, the notables are picked out 
and properly identified for the captions and left-to-right 
positions, and ample time given to make the pictures. There 
may be a slight inconvenience to other guests as the flashes 



GET THAT PICTURE 135 

are made or when the cameramen rush forward to make 
the close-up shots. But they are used to that by now. 
The cameramen make their two or three pictures needed 
to cover the story and quietly retire. 

Covering a fire or automobile accident, the flash of 
the police card is all that is needed to give the cameramen 
all the room necessary to make their pictures. The police 
and fire officials are courteous to the photographers and it 
is only the rare occasion when a gruff voice of a bluecoat 
shuffles a cameraman back from the lines. In the majority 
of hospitals the cameramen are allowed to take pictures 
of injury and maternity cases providing the patient is will- 
ing and is not in too serious condition to pose. 

In covering stories on the property of individuals and 
corporations it is necessary to get the oral or written 
permission of the owners either by direct contact with the 
owners or through the owners' secretaries. However, there 
are many corporations which have made it a practise to keep 
photographers away from their properties, especially when 
there is serious property damage. When a wreck occurs, 
the private subway and elevated lines in New York im- 
mediately post guards to keep the cameramen away. The 
same holds true with many railroad companies, steamship 
lines and oil companies. But whether it seems foolish and 
unreasonable, the cameraman accepts the ban graciously, 
and stays away. 

The proper cards of identification will permit the cam- 
eraman into most places, and it is very essential that he 
has them ready for display before he starts out on a story. 
A special park permit will allow him to shoot his pictures 
in Central Park and the Bronx Zoological Gardens in New 
York; a cutter pass will enable the cameraman to board 
the government tug which leaves the Battery daily to meet 
the incoming ships at Quarantine; Navy, Army and Coast 
Guard permits will allow the photographer to cover activi- 



136 GET THAT PICTURE 

ties of these branches of the Government's defense. In 
some cases, the photographs of the latter have to be sub- 
mitted to headquarters in Washington before they are re- 
leased for publication. 

In Washington the permit is the open sesame to most 
places: the photographers carry about ten special passes 
which are issued by the White House, the Navy, the Coast 
Guard, the Army, the Treasury, the Capitol, House of 
Representatives and several other branches of the govern- 
ment. 

The White House Photographers Association, organ- 
ized in 1926, has a membership of about 70, and holds 
its members to strict accounting for any violation of a gov- 
ernment rule or order. The association was begun primarily 
to obtain for the news photographers all the privileges and 
courtesies which were being extended to other representa- 
tives of the press. 

The spirit of cooperation among the newspaper pho- 
tographers is a fine evidence of the spirit of fair play and 
sportsmanship that pervades their ranks. In New York 
the Press Photographers' Association, now in existence for 
many years, is an organization devoted to the recognition 
and development of the rights and privileges of the news 
cameraman, and with the true fraternal spirit, will assist 
each other in time of need. A photographer who by chance 
has arrived on a story a few minutes late, or will experi- 
ence difficulty with his equipment can count on the assist- 
ance of his fellow worker to get the needed picture. How- 
ever, the photographer who has worked on a story alone or 
obtained an exclusive picture is not required to share the 
benefits of his scoop. The forces of initiative and resource- 
fulness are still given wide play, and a scoop on a story 
is still the desired thing. 

With the fine cooperative spirit in its ranks, the agree- 
able, gentlemanly approach to their subjects, the kind re- 







1937, Wide World Photos 

CONSOLING DYING PANAY VICTIM 

Lying amid the tall bamboo reeds on the Yangtze River bank, Sandro Sandri 
Italian journalist, who suffered an abdominal wound during the bombing of 
the United States gunboat Panay on December 12, 1937, is being comforted 
by Luigi Barzini, a fellow Italian newspaperman, who was also on the Panay. 
For hours Sandri lay there, suffering untold agonies, until aid was summoned 
and he was carried with 12 other w T ounded to Hohsien, five miles away. He 
died the following afternoon in Hohsien's town hospital. 




(T) International News Photo 

THE SHIP'S GOING DOWN! 

A remarkable picture of the sinking of the French transport Sontay in the 
Mediterranean during the World War taken by Thomas Grant, an official 
photographer with the Allied forces in Salonica. Grant was aboard the Sontay 
enroute to England when the ship was struck by a torpedo fired from a 
German U-boat. From a lifeboat into which he had leaped in stockinged feet 
he made this striking shot. Several minutes later the boat sank. 




1937. Wide World Photos 

THE PAN AY'S GRIM FAREWELL 

The murky waters of the Yangtze slowly climb higher upon the stricken 
United States gunboat Panay after she had fought to the last' against a 
squadron of Japanese bombing planes on December 12, 1937. Survivors, 
including many wounded, from amid tall reeds on the river bank, watched 
the vessel slowly sink, then disappear. 




1937, Wide World Photos 

BRAVELY ENDURES PATN 

Chief Quartermaster John Lang of the United States gunboat Panay, whose 
jaw was split open and suffered the loss of several teeth when hit by a 
shell fragment during the bombing of the ship by Japanese planes on 
December 12, 1937,' tries to stop flow of blood while resting on improvised 
couch amid tall reeds of the Yangtze River Bank. 




(Q Pictures. Inc. 

A SOLDIER'S FAREWELL 

Little do they know what the future holds for them as this Italian soldier 
bids his wife and children good-bye before sailing from Naples on the Saturnia 
to join his comrades in the war in Ethiopia one of the most significant 
pictures taken by Joseph Caneva, Associated Press photographer, during his 
coverage of the African campaign. 




Robert Capa from Black Star 
FALLING TO HIS DEATH 

A machine gun bullet from an Insurgent trench on the Cordoba front in 
Spain finds its mark, and the Loyalist soldier tumbles to his death one of 
the most startling- pictures to come out of the Spanish war area. It was taken 
by Robert Capa, a photographer who had attached himself to the Loyalist 
forces. Capa and the soldier were in an isolated trench, separated from the 
main body of troops. The soldier wanted to rejoin them. He clambered 
out of the trench. At that instant the bullet struck him and Capa auto- 
matically snapped his camera. 




News of the Day from International News Photos 

THIS IS WAR 1937 STYLE! 

The Chinese baby, bleeding and blood-splattered, cries for its parents, but 
they are dead, victims of t'he Japanese bombers which neatly dropped their 
eggs on the North Station at Shanghai. Hundreds of Chinese refugees were 
slaughtered when the planes circled the station and unloaded their cargoes 
of heavy explosives. 



GET THAT PICTURE 137 

gard for the susceptibilities and feelings of the victim of 
misfortune, the newspaper photographer has emerged from 
the rough seed bed and forcing house of the early days of 
picture work to be a true Knight of the Camera. 

From the publisher down to the reporter and camera- 
man on the street, a new tendency, a new feeling for the 
rights of the individual has sprung up to earn the respect, 
good-will and earnest cooperation of the public. 

A recent editorial in "Editor and Publisher," the weekly 
Newspaper for the Makers of Newspapers, sounded the 
clarion call of the new spirit of today's journalism: 

It read: "The press will and should defend its right 
to full pictorial as well as literary reporting of all public 
events, but it is time to pull up and reassess the value and 
inherent justice of reporting and photography that invades 
the family circle and cater to morbid and curious minds. 
Undoubtedly they make circulation, but if they also make 
intelligent readers distrust and even detest newspapers, the 
net result cannot be profitable." 

The publisher is heeding the call, and so is the camera- 
man. There is no longer the need to think of the news 
photographer as the anonymous, half-shadowy figure who 
slinks and sleuths. In spite of fiction, film and fable, the 
cameraman today is the brave, self-reliant, respectful person 
of gentlemanly habits and appearance, who sacrifices health 
and pleasure for one attainment service and loyalty to the 
press and the public. 



Chapter IX. 
THE WAR PHOTOGRAPHER 

In peacetime, a sudden catastrophe will convulse the 
world with its horror an earthquake, a flood, a fire, an 
explosion, a shipwreck and the report of hundreds of 
lives lost will stir the placid citizens to the realization that 
peace has also its dangers, that life amid peace is not 
so secure, after all. Flaming newspaper streamers an- 
nounce the event; accounts of the story fill column after 
column of news print; photographs of the catastrophe 
are sought after by the editors like priceless gems and 
no expense is spared to assign the cameraman, and trans- 
mit the photograph by the fastest possible means. 

"To hell with the expense," a correspondent at 
Managua, Nicaragua, was cabled, when the editor in New 
York was told that it would cost thousands of dollars to 
carry the pictures by plane from the earthquake-stricken 
area. The plane made a non-stop dash through fog and 
storm to land the pictures safely at a New York airport. 

Within several days, the story is virtually forgotten. 
The good citizens go back to their placid, routine ways, 
and another period of time elapses before the world gets 
another painful jab. The newspapers fill up again with 
dull, routine news, and the editors bite nails, wondering 
where they can dig up an important enough story to 
warrant a front-page, three-column banner. 

In wartime, the first stories and photographs of the 
battles sicken and revolt the readers, and then, with days 
passing, assume a prosaic form, so that hardened conscious- 
nesses accept the blasting of cities and the destruction of 
life with but an occasional "Isn't it terrible," and then 
sink back to personal dimensions, its fears confined largely 



GET THAT PICTURE 139 

to the two-cent rise in the price of prime ribs of beef and 
the delayed payment of the gas bill. 

War pictures, at the time, have little effect. In fact, 
the reader, surfeited, so he thinks, with war news and 
scenes of troops marching, shells exploding, refugees on 
the march, says: U O, let up a bit with that stuff!", and 
turns the pages quickly to read Polly Prim's menus and 
the baseball scores. 

Throughout the World War, though thousands of war 
pictures were taken, distributed, and printed, here, the 
readers were scarcely impressed by the brutality of the 
conflict. Stern censors behind the lines kept the revolting 
scenes safe from the public gaze. A plethora of views 
showing troops on the march, mothers and sisters prepar- 
ing jams and knitting sweaters for the boys in the trenches, 
British and French and German officials conferring on this 
or that plan of attack, and of course, the cleverly prepared 
propaganda to show the bestiality of the enemy to give 
our entrance into the war a moral boost, deluged the 
press, but they were monotonous. Let's have more base- 
ball and beauty contest pictures ! 

It was not until long after the conflict was ended that 
the world was allowed to see the uncensored stuff the war 
departments unhesitatingly released and the closeups of 
bayonets sticking into soft flesh and severed arms and 
legs rotting in the sun gave the world the true meaning 
of war. Who made the pictures? Many were lost in 
the anonomity of a private or officer, and identification 
largely remains unsolved. Individual effort was merged 
with the whole; the results are the work of hundreds of 
cameramen, many of whom died with a bullet or shell 
fragment stopping them as they plunged ahead with the 
attacking troops, the cameras still clutched tightlv in their 
hands. 

Our own War Department has copies of war photo- 
graphs for sale at the Munitions Building in Washington. 



140 GET THAT PICTURE 

The reader can obtain a 6 l /> x 8^ inch contact print, a 
single weight, gloss finish photograph for only thirty cents. 
There are also enlargements from movies made in the 
region of Exermont, camouflaged cameras among the 
ruins in various battle areas and also pictures of a number 
of the photographers themselves. Stories in connection 
with their exploits? The War Department replies they 
have none ! The photographer-soldier's duty was done. 
Only his unidentified work remains, and his heroism is 
emblazoned on the face of every photograph that is filed 
in the records. 

At the beginning of the world war, newspaper photog- 
raphers, who had hurried over from England to get the 
first shots of the German troops sweeping down through 
Belgium and those of the refugees streaming ahead of the 
terror, recklessly exposed themselves to danger, and there 
are many stories of London cameramen, secreting small 
cameras on their persons, sneaking through the German 
lines in Belgium, giving the world its first pictorial evidence 
of the invasion of that country. If they had been caught 
well, no doubt, it would have meant the firing squad. Then 
the military stepped in. The photographer in mufti be- 
came the camera-armed member of the ranks, subject to 
the sternest discipline, and ordered what and what not to 
make. The photographer swung his camera in and out of 
a maze of orders, regulations, whizzing bullets, bursting 
shells just another soldier among the millions serving 
God and country. Many a potential Steichen went crash- 
ing down into a gas-choked shell hole to be stilled forever 
only an identification tag around his neck to remind the 
War Department to forward a telegram to the nearest kin. 

Soldiers clambering the trench tops at the zero hour, 
the charge with the bayonet, the bodies littering the pitted 
ground after the attack, the prisoners marched back 
there are hundreds of such pictures in the department's 
files. There is one among them, a rather blurry shot, of 



GET THAT PICTURE 141 

a shell explosion near Sedan, France. The photographer, 
Lieutenant Estop, who had automatically clicked his cam- 
era, was blown to bits. Only the camera, flung to one 
side, was found intact. But they are not the only out- 
standing pictures to reveal the horrors of war. 

One of the most stirring pictures to be brought back to 
England for publication in the early days of the war 
showed a Belgian woman refugee seated on the curbstone 
of a small town in Belgium. She is too tired to move 
forward. Only a few possessions she managed to save 
from her small farmhouse near Liege are perched beside 
her frail form as she bows her head in resignation to the 
inevitable. The nightmare of her flight is etched in the 
shadowy hollows of her sunken cheekbones and the lack 
of food and sleep in the dark circles pinching her tired 
eyes. A frail, helpless thing caught in the swirl of the 
holocaust ! 

Thomas Grant, an official photographer for the Allied 
forces in Salonica, had made hundreds of pictures around 
the battle lines, but the best remembered of his war shots 
were those taken while on his way home to England for 
a furlough the torpedoing of the French transport Son- 
tay on which he was sailing with hundreds of others, bound 
for a port of peace. Within four minutes, a deadly missile 
streaking through the waters of the Mediterranean from 
a German submarine had struck the vitals of the ship and 
sent her bottomwards. 

Grant was asleep in his cabin when the crash came. 
He grabbed a lifebelt and made for the deck in his 
stockinged feet. Suddenly remembering his camera, he 
dashed back into his room and flung the strap of the 
camera case around his neck. He then made for the life- 
boat to which he was allotted in "abandon ship" rehears- 
als, but it had already been lowered and was bobbing up 
and down in the high waves, far below him. He took 
the one chance left. The end of a dangling rope was 



142 GET THAT PICTURE 

within a few inches of the crowded boat. He slid down, 
but by that time the boat was carried away, and he was 
left there, hanging on for dear life, his feet spinning in 
the swirling sea. Fortunately, another wave carried the 
boat toward the side of the sinking ship, and an out- 
stretched pair of arms grabbed his legs and pulled him in. 

The ship was already going down by the bow. Men 
hanging on to ropes and ladders were lifted higher and 
higher as the vessel nosed deeper into the heavy seas, and 
as the cries of the trapped victims, many of whom were 
still lined along the deck rails, rose in the misty air, Grant 
trained his camera on the terrible scene. One unforget- 
table sight was the brave captain waving his cap and 
shouting "Vive la France!", as the ship plunged beneath 
the waves. 

But Grant's troubles were not over yet. The gunboat, 
one of a convoy of two, had gone after the submarine with 
depth charges, while the other was engaged in rescue 
work on the other side of the stricken vessel. So for 
what seemed an interminable age, the lifeboat was hurled 
from wave to wave, rapidly filling with water. The oc- 
cupants worked frantically with cupped hands and head- 
gear bailing out the water, but in spite of their efforts, the 
boat was steadily filling. To protect his camera, Grant 
covered it with his coat, as the spray from the high 
waves soaked him to the skin. When hope of safety went 
glimmering, the gunboat returned and hove to. Drawing 
near, a giant wave stoved in the boat against the steel 
hull of the rescue ship, but quick work on the part of the 
gunboat's crew brought aboard every member of the life- 
boat. A few minutes later the lifeboat disappeared be- 
neath the water. 

Drenched through and through, cramped tightly on 
lower decks, with but little food and an occasional sip of 
coffee to assuage their thirst and hunger, the rescued were 



GET THAT PICTURE 143 

landed at Malta, a full 24 hours after the torpedo had 
taken its toll. 

Another tragic chapter in the World War's annals was 
closed. Forty-nine lives were lost when the Sontay sank; 
two others died aboard the gunboat. Manw of the badly 
injured were rushed to Malta's hospitals. Grant's photo- 
graphs, later reproduced in English, French and American 
newspapers, revealed in no mincing terms the horror and 
brutality of submarine warfare. The few words : "French 
transport Sontay sunk in the Mediterranean by a U-boat," 
which was released to the press, conveyed a vague, almost 
meaningless picture, just another incident in the ceaseless 
orgy of blood-letting the world was experiencing. The 
photographs left an unforgettable stamp on the minds of 
readers everywhere. The bloody depredations of the 
submarines left a somersaulting sensation in the pit of 
the stomach. 

The photographer assigned by a neutral newspaper or 
syndicate to cover a war embroiling other nations is up 
against almost insurmountable odds. The red tape which 
the warring nations unravel at the time is like iron fetters 
that hinder the slightest motion, and censorship bears 
down like a scourge. Every bit of film is scrutinized, and 
some of the best stuff secured at times amid the greatest 
dangers and risk of life and limb is ruthlessly scraped. 
We still have to see the actual battle scenes, the hand-to-hand 
encounters, in the Italo-Ethiopian war, the Spanish civil 
war, and the present raging Sino-Japanese undeclared war. 
Though the latter, by far, has been the most revealing. 

This is what confronted Joseph Caneva, a veteran 
American news photographer, when he was sent by the 
Associated Press Photos in New York to cover the Ethi- 
opian conflict. For weeks he had to cool his heels out- 
side the doors of Italian officials in Rome until he could 
get the necessary permit to travel on to Ethiopia and 
join the Italian forces. And still the best picture, in the 



144 GET THAT PICTURE 

estimation of many, is not what he secured at the fall of 
Makale, or other points in the Italian advance, but right 
in Naples before he sailed on a troopship to the scene of 
the war. The picture in reference shows an Italian soldier 
standing on the quay bidding goodbye to his wife and two 
children. Anguish is etched on the woman ''s face while she 
holds her baby close with the other tot perched on his 
shoulders, wearing his father's tropical headgear. The 
husband, who looks like a recent conscript from an Apenine 
village, grimly smiles, so obviously a mask to the emotions 
that is tearing his vitals before he plunges into the un- 
known adventure. The poor, helpless victim of a com- 
mand and one suddenly becomes repelled at the whole 
sickening business of war. An unimaginative censor must 
have let that one slip by, because the implication is so 
terrible, but on the face of it so casual a scene to the 
unthinking observer. It was fortunate, in this case, that 
the censor could not understand that there are more hor- 
rors to war than two foes coming to grips in a trench. And 
this picture proves it! 

Caneva had plenty of good equipment with which to 
"shoot" the war. He had a 4x5 Speed Graphic with a 
Carl Zeiss f 4.5, 13.5 cm. lens, and an extra seven inch 
lens for long range work, also a 4x5 Graflex with a 17- 
inch telephoto lens for extra long range shots, and a 
plenteous supply of cut film, 150 dozen packs in all, with 
special tin containers holding 'two packs each. He landed 
in the troopship at Massaua, and then ten days later left 
for the Army base at Asmara. But he could get little 
assistance from the officials. He was forced to set up his 
own darkroom in a sheet iron barrack where he shut out 
the light by hanging blankets across the windows. He 
made a darkroom light with which to scan his films while 
developing by cutting out the side of a tin can, wrapping 
it with red paper and inserting a candle. It was a far 
cry from the modern darkrooms in his own syndicate back 



GET THAT PICTURE 145 

home, but Caneva realized he was face to face with primi- 
tive conditions in a faraway world, and he did his job 
with the true courage of a pioneer. The heat was terrific 
during the day, so he was forced to do his developing at 
night. His most difficult problem was to secure cool water 
to dissolve his chemicals and rinse his negatives. He 
finally located a well outside the town and carried the 
water back to his barrack room in a discarded gasoline 
drum. He had to wash and rewash his films because 
scum clung to the emulsion. The plate holders and 
cameras had to be constantly cleansed of the grit and sand 
which seemed to choke the air. It was all backbreaking 
work amid enervating heat, poor food, little sleep, op- 
pression of flies and insects and still he was far from the 
battle lines ! 

Caneva was the only American photographer with the 
Italian forces on that front, and some time elapsed before 
he was granted the permission to accompany the troops 
on their southward march into the wild, rugged stretches 
of Ethiopia. He was the first cameraman to enter Makale, 
the first large Ethiopian stronghold to fall beneath the 
relentless sweep of II Duce's troops. The last part of the 
march meant a two-day blistering hike by foot even though 
natives carried the heavy equipment. In spite of a 
wracked body, Caneva was plagued by one worry. How 
was he to get the negatives back to Asmara to make the 
necessary connections to London, and then to the United 
States? He realized that he had less than three days in 
which to return to develop his negatives, have them cen- 
sored and then put aboard the London plane. Scarcely 
resting to sleep, and snatching a bite on the run, he made 
the gruelling return trip in two and one-half days. Within 
ten days, the first pictures of the fall of Makale were 
published in the United States and was one of the great- 
est picture scoops in the entire Ethiopian campaign. 

The developing problem in Ethiopia, one of the 



146 GET THAT PICTURE 

world's hottest countries, was overcome in a unique way 
by Ladislas Farago, a photographer who represented the 
New York Times Wide World Photos. He cooled water 
from 100 degrees to 60 degrees by having his native help- 
ers wrap bottles in wet cloths, hang them from tree boughs 
and swing them to and fro. He always did his developing 
at midnight, working under a protective gauze tent. 

Covering the Civil (War in Spain has been a most 
hazardous but not very productive, job for the news 
photographer. The cameramen working there have been 
hampered by the strictest regulations set down by both 
the Loyalist and Insurgent forces. As a result, very few 
pictures have portrayed the actual battle scenes in one of 
the world's most sanguinary civil wars have found release 
in the press. Aside from the entry of the Insurgent forces 
into Malaga, Bilbao and Santander, and a scattering of 
scenes depicting the ruins that followed the aerial bombard- 
ment of Madrid, Valencia and Almeria, there have been 
very few photographs to show the wide extent of the 
terrible destruction of lives and property that has ravaged 
Spain. 

What has been conceded to be the most unusual photo- 
graph to come out of the war-stricken country, and which 
has been given wide display in newspaper and magazine, 
shows a Loyalist soldier falling at the instant a bullet 
crashes into his brain. This starkly gripping picture was 
taken by Robert Capa who had left Paris for Spain soon 
after the outbreak of the war. He and the soldier were 
stranded on the Cordoba front. They had been separated 
from the main body of Loyalist troops by a sudden charge 
of Insurgent forces. The soldier was intent on getting 
back to his comrades. As he clambered out of the trench 
in which they were isolated, a machine gun rattled and the 
soldier was hit. At that instant, Capa, who was directly 
behind him, automatically snapped his camera, and then 
fell back beside the body of his dead companion. Several 



GET THAT PICTURE 147 

hours later, when it was dark, Capa crept across the 
ground to the Loyalist lines, and safety. 

The war in Spain indirectly cost the life of a popular 
woman photographer, Fraulein Gerta Taro. Affection- 
ately known as "La Poquena Rubia," or "the little red- 
head," by the Loyalist soldiers who loved her, she was 
injured fatally at the front last Summer when a truck 
swerved and struck her as she was standing on the running 
board of an automobile. Always clad in a pair of blue 
denim overalls, the 23-year-old camerawoman was a famil- 
iar figure in the Government trenches. She was able to 
get passes to anywhere in or behind the firing lines, and 
no general, no matter how busy or of how sullen a dis- 
position, would ever refuse her to pose. The untimely 
death of the girl who laughed at bullets and shells was a 
deep blow to the hundreds of Loyalist soldiers and officers 
who knew her and respected her stout courage. 

The slaughter of hundreds by the aerial bombs at the 
Place and Cathay Hotels and the Wing On and Sincere 
department stores in the Shanghai International Settlement 
have through startling newsreels and still pictures become 
familiarized symbols to the world of what is taking place 
in the Far East bath of blood. There are no words to 
describe the gruesome horror of the scenes the mangled 
corpses outside the shattered hotel and store fronts, the 
removal of the bodies into trucks like so much litter, the 
wounded waiting for removal to the hospitals all the sick- 
ening, wenching sights of a war come to one of the 
world's most populated cities. There was no heavy hand 
of censorship to halt the distribution of these pictures. 
Taken within the Settlement confines, no Chinese or Jap- 
anese official could discard them, and they were shipped 
in toto to the first boat and Clipper plane to speed them 
on the way to the United States. 

Because of the seriousness of the conflict, its extent, 
and its potential threat to the peace of the rest of the 



148 GET THAT PICTURE 

world, newspaper syndicates everywhere are utilizing every 
means to secure the most telling pictures. 

On the staffs of many of these syndicates serving 
them in Shanghai, Tientsin and Peiping, are to be found 
photographers of many nationalities, a veritable "foreign 
legion" of cameramen. Even well known news correspon- 
dents as James Mills of the Associated Press, and Hallett 
Abend and Anthony J. Billingham of the New York 
Times, who are as adept with their cameras as they are 
with their pens, have been "shooting" pictures and rushing 
them back to the States. Both Abend and Billingham 
were wounded in the bombing of the Shanghai depart- 
ment stores. 

While accompanying a Chinese officer to the front 
near the North Station in Shanghai, four photographers, 
Eric Mayell, Arthur Menken, Rudolfo Brandt and H. S. 
Wong, working for American concerns, were bombed and 
machine-gunned by Japanese airplanes. They had a mirac- 
ulous escape from death. 

When the first bomb dropped, scarcely 200 yards from 
them, they deserted their automobile and fled into the 
fields. But the planes followed them, dipped low and 
loosed a volley from their machine guns. The men ran 
from the fields into a nearby dugout. Till this day they 
still wonder how they ever escaped being either wounded 
or killed. 

To expedite their material home, the cameramen in 
the Shanghai sector chartered planes to fly over the battle 
ground to Hong Kong to connect with the Pan-American 
Clipper planes for their regular flights over the vast 
stretches of the Pacific. Even boats arriving at San Fran- 
cisco and Victoria, British Columbia, with refugees have 
been contacted for the ordinary tourist's kodak shots. 

The Japanese official photographs, most of which have 
been showing their soldiers on the march in Peiping, 
Tientsin and the far-flung North China area of operations, 



GET THAT PICTURE 149 

have been coming into this country by the scores. Every 
airmail from the Orient brings in a fresh shipment but, 
of course, they tend to show but fragmentary details of 
what is actually taking place there, and then only to reveal 
the Japanese in the most favorable light. The Chinese 
propaganda machine creaks along far behind that of their 
enemy's, and few, if any, pictures have been seen here 
stamped with their official release. 

An incident showing how the Japanese resent any out- 
sider's attempt to picturise their movements, took place 
in Peiping shortly after the start of the undeclared war. 
Sheridan Fahnestock, a young American on a round-the- 
world cruise, was beaten over the head by Japanese soldiers 
when he attempted to take pictures of a cheering crowd 
of Japanese civilians and soldiers outside the Italian Em- 
bassy. On the same day, Bonny Powell, an American news- 
reel photographer, was shoved around and threatened with 
bodily harm when he focused his camera on a motorized 
column of Japanese troops. 

An amusing sidelight of Japanese hostility took place 
a few days later also at Peiping when a dozen United 
States Marines on the boundary of the Marine Corps Com- 
pound started firing away with their cameras at a column 
of Japanese infantry marching past. A Nippon officer 
stopped his car and demanded that the Marines stop taking 
pictures, but they kept right on clicking their shutters. The 
Japanese officer fumed. Finally realizing that he could do 
nothing then (except, perhaps, start another international 
complication), he stalked back to his car, summoned staff 
photographers attached to his own army, and ordered them 
to remain taking pictures of the Marines. Let's hope the 
Japanese War Office doesn't dig up that picture of the 
"shooting" Marines as a casus belli! 

The world has now seen the full horror of a civilian 
population mercilessly shattered and torn by the implements 
of modern warfare. In, Shanghai, Nanking, Dessye, Al- 



150 GET THAT PICTURE 

meria and Madrid, the ravages of long range guns and 
bombing planes have taken their toll of innocent men, wo- 
men and children. Photographs, more than words, have 
brought home the lesson, and all the implications, of what 
modern warfare means. Risking death amid the shambles 
of destruction, the war photographer is delivering a power- 
ful message of truth a horrifying one, nevertheless but 
one that should rout the glorifiers of war. His camera is 
a magnificent weapon for peace ! 



Chapter X. 
THE WOMAN NEWS PHOTOGRAPHER 

There was a day when the male news photographer 
sniffed scornfully when told that it was possible that the 
woman with the camera would match wits and plate for 
plate, picture for picture with the man firmly entrenched 
in the profession. Humph! Woman? Impossible! The job 
was too risky, too dangerous. Reporters once made 
kindred statements. They were mistaken, too. Women 
photographers are edging in, overcoming all objections, 
belieing the popular illusion as to their frailty, lack of 
nimbleness in covering a spot news assignment, inability 
to handle weighty equipment. 

Slender Margaret Bourke-White, photographer-extra- 
ordinary, has climbed narrow steel girders hundreds of 
feet above the street pavement, plunged into the gaseous 
bowels of coal mines, leaped from log to log in swirling 
currents to snap hardy Canadian woodsmen; 1 8-year-old 
Harriet Platnick, of Hempstead, Long Island, crashes 
through police and fire lines, scales walls and fords 
streams, to get news pictures of crimes, accidents, forest 
fires, train wrecks; a 23-year-old wisp of a girl, with a 
thick mass of tousled brown hair and dancing blue eyes, 
Miss Mary Louise Morris is a member of the Associated 
Press Features staff, and daily fares forth with camera 
slung over her shoulder to cover every variety of news 
and feature story. There are scores of girl photographers 
scattered throughout the country whose news pictures have 
been accepted readily by newspapers and syndicates. Frail? 
Well, they may be slender, but they've got the wiry firm- 
ness of fine steel to withstand any sort of rigor and trial. 
Lack of nimbleness? One look at Miss Bourke-White on 



152 GET THAT PICTURE 

the job, and you have the apotheosis of the fastest action 
this side of Glenn Cunningham's burst of speed across 
the finish line. Inability to handle equipment? A glance 
at Miss Platnick firing away plate after plate, at a crime 
or fire scene, and you will reappraise your woman photog- 
rapher with a new value and consideration of her merits. 
The woman with the camera has really come to stay! 

It was a case of dogged perseverance, determination, 
and a virtue of completing a job once she started it, that 
brought Margaret Bourke-White the remarkable success 
she has attained as a photographer. 

Her early years were spent studying and playing with 
strange pets : turtles, caterpillars and reptiles, including 
a baby boa constrictor. Her father was a naturalist, and 
the fondness for the wonders of the universe was her 
heritage. She studied Natural History in high school. 
Her first interest in the camera started at Columbia Uni- 
versity when she took an amateurish course in photogra- 
phy, chiefly for credits. Then followed several years at 
the University of Michigan where she studied biology 
and herpetology, a branch of zoology that treats of 
reptiles and amphibians. Lack of finances forced her to 
seek a position at the end of two years. A job at the 
Natural History Museum in Cleveland for a year enabled 
her to save enough money to go back to college, this time, 
to Cornell University, where she entered the senior class. 
She was determined to finish her college education. But 
she again needed more money to finish her course. So she 
turned to photography as a means to pay her way through. 
She took pictures of the students and campus life, and sold 
many of them. She employed student salesmen, and her 
photographs gained instant popularity. 

During her Spring vacation, she stuffed a number of her 
outstanding pictures into a portfolio, and came to New 
York. She visited the office of a well-known architect. 
Among the pictures she carried were a number showing 




Acme Newspapers 
BEATEN TO DEATH 

A horrible moment snapped by the ever-vigilant cameraman as a striker 
armed with baseball bat attacks a prostrate business man during- the truck- 
men's strike in Minneapolis, Minn., in 1934. The victim later died from the 
effects of the blows. 




Acme Newspapers 

"NOT IN THE LINE OF DUTY" 

But one of New York's finest believes it's all in the day's work to fill a cup 
with water and fed a helpless sparrow perched on a building 1 ledgre. 



GET THAT PICTURE 153 

campus buildings. She was keenly interested in photograph- 
ing structures. The attraction of steel girders and masonry 
was to prove a valuable asset for her in the coming years. 

The architect was in a hurry to catch a train. Sorry, but 
he could not see Miss Bourke- White. The persistent young 
lady tagged him as he was leaving. He simply must take 
one look at them. The architect capitulated. All right, 
just one minute, then. He took one glance at the photo- 
graphs and then called the young lady into his office. Mem- 
bers of his staff were summoned. It was the turning point 
in her life. She knew then and there that photography was 
to be her life work. 

After graduation, she returned to Cleveland, and estab- 
lished herself in a small apartment, converting it into de- 
veloping, printing and reception rooms. In the beginning 
it was a struggle, but her fine work soon attracted attention. 
Architects handed her plenty of assignments. One fine in- 
terior of a bank building won her an introduction to a presi- 
dent of a steel company. It was the opportunity she was 
long waiting for. She had her heart set on making an 
interior of a steel mill : the huge cranes, ladles, the dazzl- 
ing splutter of molten steel, the iron-muscled, broad-chested 
workers, stripped to the waist, facing the open furnace 
doors, handling the ingots and bars, blinding with their 
white-heat, with the ease of a child playing with a ball. 
She asked the executive's permission to make the photo- 
graphs. He complied, and off to Europe he went, while 
the slim girl day after day, and night after night, faced the 
terrific heat and clatter to make dozens of shots. Many 
she threw into the wastebasket. She was not satisfied until 
she had made what she thought was the perfect set of 
pictures. When the steel president returned, he took but 
one glance at the photographs, shouted a cry of delight, 
and ordered a dozen at $100 apiece for a privately print- 
ed book. 

It marked the beginning of an active and highly sue- 



154 GET THAT PICTURE 

cessful career. She was given the highest recommenda- 
tions; industry in all parts of the country sought her ser- 
vices. Then in 1929 came an offer from Fortune maga- 
zine to join its staff. She accepted, and came to New 
York, where she also opened a studio to do commercial 
work. 

Her position with the magazine embarked her on ex- 
citing and colorful career; every moment was charged 
with thrill and action. She covered industrial news sub- 
jects with the fidelity of a newsman "shooting" a fire or 
accident. In the summer of 1930 she was sent to Germany 
to make a series of photographs of the country's immense 
industries, starting with the shipping docks at Hamburg 
and continuing on through the network of plants closely 
grouped in the Ruhr Valley. But her heart was set on 
going to Russia. The great social experiment going on 
there intrigued her. After waiting a while for her visa, 
she departed for Moscow, and within several days, found 
herself a welcomed guest of the Soviet government, at will 
to travel the breadth and length of the country. She 
brought back a wealth of photographs, many of which 
were reproduced in her splendid book, u Eyes on Russia," 
and others in the newspaper rotogravure sections. Her 
name immediately leaped into front-page fame. It was 
startling, fantastic I A woman had dared invade that 
strange, mysterious land, where untold dangers threatened, 
and came back with a set of photographs which were so 
bold, so revelatory of the new state in a process of recon- 
struction. It was NEWS, big NEWS! 

But Miss Bourke-White was not content to sit back 
and rest with the adulations of an admiring public and 
press pouring in. She yearned for new adventures. She 
packed her cameras, and off she went on an assignment to 
cover the drought areas. From Nebraska she flew to 
Texas, and back. She would arise at four o'clock in the 
morning, work for seven or eight hours, pack her equip- 



GT THAT PICTURE 1 55 

ment, and off again she would go by plane to a new loca- 
tion. She realized it was a news assignment, so she would 
hurry through her job, and fly back to New York with her 
negatives in order to make the magazine's deadline. 

Hardly a breathing spell, and she was off again, this 
time to cover the yacht races for the America's Cup off 
Newport, Rhode Island. 

It was while covering this assignment that she had a 
narrow escape from drowning. She had hired a motor- 
boat to get some unusual angle of the Vanderbilt craft. 
While making a sharp turn, Miss Bourke-White, who had 
run forward to get a shot she wanted, tripped and fell into 
the water, still clutching the camera. While she flounder- 
ed about, never letting go of the camera, her own skipper 
and the crew of the Vanderbilt yacht headed for her and 
fished her out. She never even thought of how near death 
she was; her only regrets were that the camera was soaked 
and ruined, and immediately returned to Newport to get 
another camera to resume her work. The job must go on I 

The incident is typical of this young woman, who never 
gives a thought to self, but doggedly carries on, never tir- 
ing, never flagging in spirits, with but one desire upper- 
most in her mind, and that is to get only the best possible 
pictures. 

She made two more trips to the Soviet Union, and 
brought back more unusual photographs and two movie 
travelogues. 

Nothing apparently has deterred this amazing woman 
photographer from seeking and finding the most unusual 
and out-of-the-way places with which to add to her pic- 
torial masterpieces. She has gone a thousand feet down 
into the bowels of the earth to make a series on coal min- 
ing, where she walked and crawled through muck and dirt 
and pools of water to get her pictures, and came stagger- 
ing out into the sunlight, her face scratched, her clothes 
torn, and her hands and face as black as that of any coal 



156 GET THAT PICTURE 

miner's. Her only concern was that her camera and 
plates were intact. Again she has gone along skeleton 
girders a thousand feet above the city pavements to make 
some unusual angles of a skyscraper. And traveled a 
thousand and more miles into the Canadian wilds to get a 
breaking up of a log jam in the Spring. In the early part 
of 1936 she flew to South America and made a series of 
photographs of coffee growing in the interior of Brazil. 

But more and more, as evidenced by the work she 
has done, her interest turned from the early years of 
"staged" photographs of commercial work to pictures close 
to life. She felt drama pulsating in the things happening 
throughout the world. She felt that she could not afford 
to miss any of it with her camera. So she has gone on 
recording more and more of the things which can be con- 
sidered news. And withal, she deemed it her purpose and 
goal to interpret these stirring things of life with a fresh 
meaning and outlook. She sees a meaning and a purpose 
and a story in the most humble person and object. 
Because of this increasing interest in the factual world, she 
came in the fall of 1936 as an "editorial photographer" 
to Life magazine. She has been on their staff ever since, 
where her indefatigable efforts have been crowned with 
new successes. She is establishing herself as a news 
photographer-extraordinary. 

It may be of interest to note the fine photographic 
equipment Miss Bourke-White has available for covering 
her assignments. She has the following cameras: a 3^4 
X4^4 Linhof, with which she uses two Tessar lenses, one 
an f4-5 with a 13.5 cm. focus, and the other also an f*4.5 
with a 15 cm. focus, an Angulon f6.8, 9 cm. lens, a Tele- 
xenar f5.5, 27 cm. lens, and a Tessar f6.3, 18 cm. lens; 
a 3x4 R. B. Auto Graft ex with an "4.5 Kodak Anastigmat 
lens, of 7 inch focus; a Soho Reflex, Tropical Model, 
camera, with which she uses a Zeiss Tessar f3.5, 13.5 cm. 
lens and a Cook, Series X, 162 mm. lens; a Fairchild 



GET THAT PICTURE 157 

Aero Camera, Model F8, with a Schneider Xenar 4.5, 
24 cm. lens, and a Super Ikonta A camera. She also uses 
a Contax for candid camera studies and a 5x7 View Cam- 
era for special studies, particularly with photomural work 
in mind. 

Crack photographer, picture editor and art director 
all three each a man's job in itself are embodied in the 
slim, dashing form of 3O-year-old Miss Jackie Martin, of 
the Washington, D. C., Herald, said to be the only woman 
picture editor of a metropolitan daily in the United States. 

Any day of the week will find this tireless, vivacious 
woman buried deep in a stack of pictures, selecting for 
the daily and Sunday pages, turning now and again to 
hand out an assignment to one of her staff of able news 
cameramen. Pausing for a few moments, she will toy 
with a brilliant idea that has suddenly entered her mind, and 
off she will go with miniature camera to the Capitol 
building to make an unusual series of news photographs. 
On her return she will fling herself once more into the 
tornadic-speed of selecting, making up the picture page, 
and assigning, only interrupting her work to hurry into 
the darkroom to supervise the printing of the pictures or 
make suggestions regarding the cropping and enlarging 
of the prints. The day over does not mean that her work 
is done for she will hie to a night society function to get 
an exclusive layout of pictures. Her ambition is to fill the 
Herald with the most distinctive news and feature pictures, 
and she is succeeding. 

A very determined young woman is Miss Martin. And 
always has been. Ever since she left Eastern High School 
in Washington, her life has been a succession of swift, col- 
orful experiences. 

At Syracuse University where she entered on a schol- 
arship, she covered her expenses by shining shoes and 
waiting on tables. But the financial struggle was a bit 
too keen for her, and she was forced to leave at the end 



158 GET THAT PICTURE 

of the freshman year. The temporary halt in an ambition 
only spurred her on to attain greater ends in the outside 
world. She secured a position as a woman's sports editor 
of the Washington Times, then later went over to the 
Underwood and Underwood news service as society editor. 
While there, photography became an obsession. She 
studied day and night, asked a hundred and one questions 
of the news cameramen she trailed here and there, and 
finally became so experienced in handling the camera that 
she asked for, and received, a job as news photographer 
with the, then, Washington Times Herald. She covered 
the fire, crime, accident and other news stories as ably 
as any of the male photographers on the paper. 

While on the Times Herald she accepted an offer to 
become publicity director and auditorium manager of the 
Arcadia, Washington's "Madison Square Garden." Then 
the newspaper world lured her back once more, and she 
joined the Herald as assistant society editor. A short 
period in that position, and then over to the Washington 
News as feature writer, followed by & return to the 
Herald where within six weeks she became its picture 
editor. 

From the outset she was determined to make its photo- 
graphic staff one of the best in the country, and sought 
the latest improvements in darkroom technique. It meant 
many a stiff battle with the business department, but she 
won out. Today the Herald has few rivals in the com- 
plete modernization of its photographic layout. On her 
staff are two assistants, eight photographers, six artists 
and several darkroom men. 

During her seven years tenure with the Herald as 
picture editor and art director, she has gone out constantly 
with her camera to bring in many notable picture scoops, 
and even found time to make a trip to Europe to study 
newspaper pohtographic methods in Copenhagen, Paris 



GET THAT PICTURE 159 

and London, bringing back with her many ideas which 
she incorporated into her work here. 

While in England a member of the Royal Photo- 
graphic Society was so impressed with her work that she 
was proposed for membership. In 1936, shortly after 
she became an Associate, two of her photographs were 
selected for display at the Society's annual exhibition, an 
honor few women have achieved. 

Miss Martin has the daring and fearlessness of the 
male news photographer. During the funeral services 
held for the late Speaker Byrns in the House of Repre- 
sentatives when no cameramen were allowed in, she man- 
aged to get in and obtain an exclusive shot which appeared 
in the Herald the following day for an eight-column 
spread. 

Two years ago, at the opening of Congress, she made 
the only picture of the Cabinet members listening to the 
President's address, taken with her Contax from the press 
box where the camera boys were barred. A year later, 
when the President appeared again to make his address, 
Miss Martin attempted to duplicate her feat, but she was 
discovered and ejected. But a few minutes later she was 
back in a lower tier after scaling a rail, and startled the 
rival picture editors the following day with another 
Herald reproduction of the similar scene. 

All during the Democratic Convention sessions in 
Philadelphia in 1936 her remarkable pictures of the lead- 
ers and delegates filled page after page in her paper. A 
never-to-be-forgotten scene took place at the social dinner 
given by Governor Earle of Pennsylvania, preceding the 
formal opening of the Convention. Delegates looked on 
with amazement as Miss Martin, smartly gowned in a 
latest Paris creation, swept through the ballroom, follow- 
ed by a tall State Trooper, carrying her camera case. She 
literally "stole the show." While all eyes were focused 
on this stunningly attired woman, she, unconcernedly, 



l6o GET THAT PICTURE 

shot picture after picture of the party leaders assembled 
there, obtaining an exclusive layout. 

Miss Martin does most of her work when she breaks 
away from her desk with Leica, Contax and Speed 
Graphic. The largest part of her work during the past 
four years has been with a Contax with a Sonnar f 11.5 
lens, but recently bought a Leica, also with an f 11.5 lens, 
and she is getting splendid results with that camera as well. 

Just recently, News Week magazine carried a page of 
pictures she took of Supreme Court Justice Van Devanter, 
who had resigned, and Town and Country, a popular 
sophisticated monthly, had a three page layout of hers on 
a party given in Washington for Doris Duke, the nation's 
wealthiest heiress. 

Though her enthusiasm lies in the miniature camera 
field, her u boys" on the staff prefer the Speed Graphic. 
But Miss Martin does not split hairs with their judgment. 
She firmly believes that both types of cameras have their 
essential uses on a metropolitan daily. The invaluable 
combination of candid camera (the Herald has five of 
them), and the Speed Graphic are bringing in results 
and that is Miss Martin's sole desideratum. 

At the present time Miss Martin is building a model, 
air-conditioned candid-camera darkroom in the Herald 
building, which, when finished, will be dedicated by Mrs. 
Roosevelt. She already has built one in her own home. 

This amazing young woman is setting a pace in picture 
editing and news photography which is fast outstripping 
many a male competitor. 

Only 23 years of age, Miss Mary Louise Morris is 
already making quite a name for herself as a news photog- 
rapher. In a little more than a year on the staff of the 
Associated Press Feature Service in New York, she has 
accumulated several nice scoops, and many interesting ex- 
periences. She largely goes after the news feature sub- 
jects, and frequently makes a series of photographs for 



GET THAT PICTURE l6l 

the picture page which the syndicate produces each week. 

In the beginning she was quite taken aback as the recur- 
rent question popped at her: "Are you REALLY a news 
photographer?" It seemed incredible that the short, slim 
lass and so pretty could really be one of the army of 
camera bearers so long known to the public as seasoned, 
hardy fellows, most of them in the late twenties or early 
thirties. The persons she was about to "shoot" often 
twitted her as she asked them to pose. "Now, really, 
stop spoofing," they would say. "That fellow there 
(they pointed to the male reporter who accompanied her 
to get the story), must be the cameraman, not you. Now 
start your questions." And it took a lot of convincing to 
make her subjects realize that she was all in earnest. 

However, Miss Morris is now quite a veteran at press- 
ing the Button and pulling the flashes. She is no longer 
nervous or abashed, and before anyone she is photograph- 
ing has a chance to fling a challenge, she has already made 
her picture. 

Long before she had graduated from Sarah Lawrence 
College in Bronxville, New York, Miss Morris had tink- 
ered with a camera. At the age of eight she handled a 
Brownie with proficiency, and later in her 'teens bought a 
simple Eastman and went off to England to make a very 
interesting set of photographs. She knew then and there 
that photography was her forte, and set about to learn 
more of the technical knowledge required in handling one 
of the more intricate machines. At first she wanted to 
take up reporting, but then decided that her camera would 
enable her to cover the news she was after with greater 
facility. She was unusually picture-minded. She was 
especially interested in the workaday world, in people 
around her, in the expressions on their faces, and the 
movements of their hands and bodies. 

It was with a bit of trepidation that she sought a job 
on the Associated Press Feature service but one look at 



1 62 GET THAT PICTURE 

the work she offered, and the editor said the position was 
hers. But it was no easy sailing. Plenty of hard work, 
sufferance of sly jibes from her fellow workers but she 
tightened her lips, and went on, with success from the 
start. 

Since her work is more on the feature side of news, 
she has more time to think and plan, and carefully figures 
out what she is going to u shoot." She has plenty of time 
to plan her attack, for she makes appointments in advance 
with the persons she is to photograph. 

"This sort of thinking must be done," she says, "if 
photographs are to have more meaning and sincerity than 
the wholly "gotten up," "knock your eye out" stunt pic- 
tures which so many people are going after these days." 

She never resorts to feminine wiles to induce help from 
her fellow-photographers. She makes them feel that she 
is just another one of the "boys", and in this way, has 
earned their camaraderie and respect. She proved to be 
a darn good scout when she was assigned to get a series 
of intimate studies of John L. Lewis, the labor leader, 
when he was taking part in a bituminous coal conference 
to regulate hours and wages in the industry held at the 
Hotel Biltmore in New York the winter of 1937. 

The only pictures she could get in the beginning or 
anyone else, for that matter were the routine shots of 
him entering and leaving the lobby elevator. Nothing 
doing on any other pictures, the photographers were told. 
No pictures during the conference, and no pictures, before 
or after. And the reporters were given the same cold 
shoulder in regard to news. 

Several of the reporters thought of a swell stunt. 
There was a tiny anteroom leading off the main meeting 
room. They wanted to hide there and overhear the con- 
ference talk. But and there was the rub the door lead- 
ing into the room was always kept open. Now if Miss 
Morris could just with some excuse get into the main 



GET THAT PICTURE 163 

room, edge near the door, and close it why, that would 
be great! Miss Morris quickly thought of a plan. Easy! 
She would enter the room just as the conferees sat down 
and start searching around as if she lost something. The 
plan worked. The "lost something" was a flash bulb, and 
she kept nearing the door, the meanwhile searching here 
and there for the "lost bulb." The delegates promptly 
offered their services in the search, and they were soon 
down on hands and knees looking under tables and chairs. 
Pretending that it might be behind the door, Miss Morris 
innocently closed it. And then turned around: "Sorry, 
gentlemen, I must have lost it elsewhere." Her tone 
was a sorrowful one. The delightful interlude of trying 
to help a damsel in distress must have so bewildered them 
that no one even thought of the closed door. And the 
conference went on, with two pairs of ears glued to the 
other side of the door, taking in all that they said. 

The grand favor was to be reciprocated the following 
day when Mr. Lewis startlingly announced to a group of 
reporters begging him for a statement that he would only 
be interviewed by one man one to whom he had made a 
promise some time back. It proved to be one of the two 
men who were in the anteroom the preceding day. 

Miss Morris saw her chance. "Say, old pal," she 
nudged the lucky reporter, "remember that stunt yester- 
day." But she did not even have to ask. The reporter 
dragged her into the room where Mr. Lewis lounged, and 
introduced the girl photographer to the gruff, affable labor 
leader. Sure, Miss Morris could have all the pictures she 
wanted. They were the only layout of intimate studies 
made during Mr. Lewis's stay in the city. 

Miss Morris uses a Rolleiflex camera a large part of 
the time, usually with one or more flashbulbs placed in 
standing reflectors, and synchronized with a Mendelsohn 
flashgun. She also has a Contax and a Soho reflex camera 
which she uses occasionally. 



164 GET THAT PICTURE 

Ever since she was a babe in arms, Miss Harriet Plat- 
nick, 1 8-year-old news photographer of Hempstead, Long 
Island, has heard the parlance of cameras, plates, bulbs, 
speed guns and all the "shop talk" daily expressed by 
news cameramen. Her father, Samuel Platnick, a veteran 
news gatherer with the camera, has operated a studio in 
their home town for more than fifteen years. Her brother 
is also an experienced news photographer. Therefore she 
got used to handling cameras ever since she has learned 
to walk. 

At ten, she owned her own Brownie camera and was 
successful in developing and printing her own work. At 
fifteen, armed with a 4x5 Speed Graphic, equipped with a 
Carl Zeiss Tessar f*4.5 lens and a Mendelsohn speedgun, 
which was in a sad condition after being passed down from 
her father to her brother to herself, she took her first 
news pictures. It was an auto accident in which two were 
killed and others dying. Pretty bloody. She nearly quit, 
but thought it over, gritted her teeth and decided if she 
was to maintain her livelihood with a camera, she had to 
take the bad with the good, the pretty with the pretty 
horrible. 

Her contacts with New York newspapers began 
through her father. He had wide acquaintances among 
picture editors, and at first when the assignments came in, 
he would send her out to cover the story, providing there 
was to be no rush and excitement. 

She would cover the assignments and her plates would 
go in to her father's outfits under his name. Of course, 
this was only after many months of careful schooling under 
the watchful eyes of both her father and brother. With 
them she would work shoulder to shoulder making plate 
after plate, and by comparing results, she was able to 
improve her work. Finally, word leaked out that Mr. 
Platnick had a daughter who was responsible for many of 
the shots coming in from Long Island. 



GET THAT PICTURE 165 

Some of the editors resented that fact. The idea of 
a girl taking straight news photographs, did not somehow, 
fit into the scheme of their daily lives. Now they are, 
or almost are, over it. 

Like the girl photographer of the Associated Press, 
Miss Platnick has become quite used to hearing people 
say: "Look, that's a girl taking those pictures," with an 
incredulous tone of voice that seems to indicate that a lens 
could not possibly work in conjunction with skirts and a 
pair of silk stockings. 

Miss Platnick also believes in never asking for, nor 
taking for granted an special favor because of her sex. 
She has never asked for easy assignments. If the job calls 
for scaling the side of a building for an altitude shot, 
then up she goes. If she has to row half way across Long 
Island Sound and argue her way on board a yacht and 
forcible ducking at the hands of an irate crew to get a shot 
of a Europe-bound millionaire, then she hires a boat and 
shoves off. 

There was that incident in 1936 when the Baroness 
Eza von Blixen Finecke, who planned to fly the Atlantic, 
was left behind by her pilot. The Baroness went into deep 
seclusion. The papers wanted pictures, but the Baroness 
said no in her exclusive retreat at the Hickville Aviation 
Country Club. There was a ring of cameramen at the 
gate, so Miss Platnick left her camera in her car, and 
strolled past the gate and tried to put on that "swanky" 
look. She insisted to the doorman that she had an ap- 
pointment with the Baroness and that if he would take 
her card in the Baroness would see her. This he did. 
The Baroness appeared but said that she didn't recall ever 
having an appointment. Finally, the Baroness consented 
to pose for a picture. Miss Platnick "just-one-more'd" her 
into a complete layout. 

There was another time up in Lettingtown, Long 
Island. J. P. Morgan was sailing in a few days for 



1 66 GET THAT PICTURE 

Europe. The Sunday previous, he attended church at 
St. John's, and it was a pretty general assignment. As 
J. P. entered church, he covered up with a big top hat. 
On the way out, Miss Platnick was waiting, and she made 
a six-foot closeup shot of him in a crowd which prevented 
him from escaping. As they reached the end of the 
walk, the financier began to swing his cane perilously close 
over the heads of a few photographers and quite close 
to her, but she got the picture. Miss Platnick honestly 
believes that the grand mogul of finance actually smiled 
when he saw her there. 

Daily, Miss Platnick receives the so-called "tips" from 
State Troopers, police and other individuals from all over 
the island. 

Remember those first pictures of Dick Merrill and 
Jack Lambie tuning up their plane just before hopping to 
London and back? The girl photographer had the good 
fortune to get a good break on that story from a State 
Trooper who happened by the Farmingdale Airport, and 
noticing the work going on, phoned her. Dick and Jack 
were more than surprised when she asked them to pose 
for a layout of pictures. 

At another time, Jack Dempsey, the fighter carried her 
camera case all over the beach while she was taking pic- 
tures of orphans at the beach. 

The Hempstead miss contacts the newspaper offices 
in the usual manner. A phone call to the picture or city 
desk, a description of the picture, a dash to the darkroom 
to take the films from the holders and wrap them in light- 
proof paper and insert in an empty 4x5 box; then into her 
car she goes to the nearest station, finds a trainman to 
take the package to New York, gives him a few hurried 
instructions, and then on another phone calls the newspaper 
or syndicate desk advising the time of arrival, and they 
have a messenger pick up the package. 



GET THAT PICTURE 167 

For her equipment, Miss Platnick still carries a Speed 
Graphic, but this time a new one. She also uses a candid 
camera, a Zeiss Ikonta, with a Kalart Speedgun. She 
has her own car, which is equipped with a case of bulbs, 
tripod, changing bag, panchromatic films, rubber boots 
for wet assignments, dry clothes in case of a spill, and 
other odds and ends which go to make up a complete 
outfit. 

At nights the wisp of a lass listens closely in on the 
local police radio station WPGS. It frequently happens 
that a number of signal ID'S will follow each other in 
quick succession (they are accident code calls), and Miss 
Platnick will dash to each scene, covering each one rapidly 
and thoroughly, so as not to be beaten by rivals. 

That's the life of a girl photographer only eighteen 
years of age! 

Now who can say, in all fairness, that the girl photog- 
rapher cannot cover the news? 



Chapter XL 

THE AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHER GETS THE 
PICTURE! 

By CHARLES H. MCLAUGHLIN 
(McLaughlin Aerial Surveys, Inc.) 

News-Photography-from-the-Air can hardly be called 
a definite profession. It is just one of many branches of 
aerial photography, but wjien there is something sensa- 
tional to be covered it can be very exciting. 

We might divide it into two general classes: spread 
news and spot news. For the former, the pictures must 
be outstanding and of more than ordinarily good quality; 
they should be unusual pictures of subjects that have a 
lasting interest with the general public. As these pictures 
can be used at anytime, they are for the most part carried 
in either the rotogravure or second news sections. The 
latter, i.e., spot news, covers events of immediate and 
unusual interest, the forest fire, flood, explosion, the sport 
event, etcetra. As it is difficult in many instances to get 
very close to the scene for some of these pictures because 
of conditions presenting themselves, the pictures must be 
shot as well as possible under the circumstances and then 
rushed to the paper which is usually holding up an edition 
for them. 

Sometimes, as in the case of the arrival of the liner 
Normandie after her maiden voyage, the work is a com- 
bination of both these classes. 

Therefore, when we received an assignment to cover 
the Normandie's arrival we had to plan our flight in order 
to get exceptional views and at the same time make certain 




McLaughlin Aerial Surveys, Inc. 

A SEA QUEEN AND HER PAGE-BOYS! 

Escorting the majestic liner Normandie up the North River to her royal 
berth, the tiny tugs skim the water in white- foamed excitement an inter- 
esting spectacle tavten by the aerial photographer who waited for the exact 
moment when the wind died down allowing the Normandie's smoke to plume 
straight upward instead of across her bows. It was a long wait from the 
time she left Quarantine but the picture was worth it! 




McLaughlin Aerial Surveys, Inc. 

CLOUDS OVER MANHATTAN 

The aerial photographer on the way home from a Connecticut assignment 
glimpsed the skyscrapers of Manhattan through a rift' in the sea of clouds, 
12,000 feet up, and snapped this interesting shot of cumulus and tiny blocks 

of steel and stone. 







By Thomas McAvoy, courtesy TIME, Inc. 
'Now let me look this over " 



THE CANDID CAMERA INVADES THE WHITE HOUSE 
When Thomas Dowell McAvoy was assigned to get pictures of the signing 
of the Brazilian Trade Agreement at the White House in 1935 he resolved 
to get something different than the other cameramen. Unobserved, he quietly 
pressed the button of his miniature camera twenty times and here are some 
of his results. It was the first' complete candid camera study of the President 
in an official capacity. 




By Thomas McAvoy, courtesy TIME, Inc. 
"How's Brazil?" 



GET THAT PICTURE 169 

that they were received by the newspaper in the shortest 
possible time. 

Rather than use our regular plane, we chose an auto- 
gyro for the reason that when a well-heralded event takes 
place such as this one, there are many planes in the air 
and all of them circling the subject at the same time. The 
procedure followed is that everyone flies in a right circle 
and as they come around into position they shoot a picture 
and circle for another, but each photographer must wait 
his turn. This results often in the best view being avail- 
able only to the ones fortunate enough to be in position 
when the subject presents itself for a good picture. 

With the autogyro we were not obliged to fly the 
circle. We pulled the nose up and throttled the motor 
to a speed about equal to the Normandie's and hugged 
her close while waiting for the view we wanted. The day 
was a bit windy and there was a downdraft on occasions 
which carried the smoke from the Normandie's stacks 
down across the forward decks frequently obscuring the 
bow completely. Still we didn't shoot. Competition in 
the air was keen, and we realized we would have to get 
the one outstanding shot to have it published. 

We therefore bided our time. The big ship had al- 
ready passed the Statue of Liberty and was getting on 
past the tip of Manhattan. There was the picture the 
ship and the cluster of skyscrapers but to our dismay, 
the smoke was still being blown downward or forward. 
Suddenly about the time she was passing the Holland 
Tunnel the wind subsided and the smoke plumed directly 
up for some hundreds of feet. Two quick shots ! We had 
what we wanted and again the smoke came down. 

It takes a new liner coming into New York more time 
than usual because of a two or three hour wait at Quaran- 
tine and its slow progress up the Hudson River. There- 
fore, instead of waiting until the ship was finally berthed 
at her pier, we landed at Miller Field on Staten Island 



I7O GET THAT PICTURE 

and met a motorcycle messenger from a picture syndicate 
who took the films we had exposed in the lower bay and 
at Quarantine. He rushed these back to his office. 

Off we were again on our flight and we returned to 
make some more shots of the liner slowly churning the 
river. After getting what we wanted of these and the 
skyscrapers of New York as a background we made a 
quick flight to Jersey City Airport, delivered the plates to 
a second messenger, and then rushed back in time to catch 
the liner docking. We then landed at North Beach on 
Long Island and sent a third batch of film on its way. 
We then returned to Roosevelt Field where the autogyro 
was stored. What a thrill on returning to the city to 
find the front pages displaying pictures carrying our credit 
line! 

Spot news work comes up suddenly. It is seldom that 
we get an opportunity to make any plans. An early 
morning call! the Akron crashes; the Morro Castle 
burns; the Lindbergh baby is kidnapped; a big flood get 
pictures! Get anything, but get it quick! Frequently 
there is fog, rain, snow or it is not yet daylight. But we 
take off if we have a fifty-fifty chance! 

We have our bad breaks, too. When the big floods 
swept Johnstown and Pittsburgh in 1936 we couldn't get 
through until the flood was old news. 

During the big flood at Hartford, Connecticut, a few 
years ago we were more fortunate in getting pictures 
promptly and making all editions for the newspaper who 
had chartered us. 

When the Lindbergh kidnapping story broke, we could 
do nothing but get views of the house, the police cars, or 
the crowds nearby. Every ground photographer was 
getting them too, so we tried something different. At the 
time there was talk of the baby still being in the neighbor- 
hood. We therefore climbed up to 12,000 feet and shot 
comprehensive photographs of that whole section of New 



GET THAT PICTURE 171 

Jersey. We submitted the group to the papers and they 
all used them. Their artists put a white ring around the 
house and suggested possible routes for searching parties 
to take through the Sourland Range of mountains. Not 
many hours after the pictures were published we received 
calls from the police requesting prints for studying the 
topography and guiding the searching parties. 

Very often when we are up on a commercial job and 
there is no news work to be done we either look for or 
create news. By making news I do not mean that we 
distort or falsify. It is simply finding something there 
that on first glance did not exist. 

For instance, one day while taking pictures over Con- 
necticut so many clouds blew in that I could not complete 
my work and had to return. When such a thing happens 
one naturally loses a certain amount of money for cross- 
country flying and we had already been on that same job 
twice before. It was disheartening. I was anxious to 
retrieve some of the losses, so we climbed up through the 
clouds and watched for an interesting opening. In flying 
south over Manhattan Island, we managed to get eight or 
ten beautiful shots of the city through the clouds. We 
developed them and took them to the papers and the 
rotogravure sections grabbed them right up. So did a 
number of magazine editors and to our delight we did a 
lot better than break even on the day's work. 

Very often when flying cross country under more fav- 
orable conditions many interesting subjects present them- 
selves, and always with rotogravure in mind we try to 
get several views that are both interesting and beautiful. 

There is more than just an airplane and camera re- 
quired in the making of aerial photographs. Different 
types of work call for changes in cameras, wearing apparel 
and grades of film. 

During the summer one can wear most anything in a 
cabin plane, and if flying an open job a helmet and goggles 



172 GET THAT PICTURE 

are necessary accessories. During the winter months and 
especially on clear, cold days there is no clothing too warm. 
Sheepskin-lined flying suit, helmet and mocassins, and a 
pair of leather mittens with wool or fur lining are standard 
equipment. Putting them on in a warm place adds to one's 
comfort when aloft as no cold air gets in once they are 
fastened. 

There are two types of aerial cameras for news work. 
One is adapted to roll film and the other to cut film or 
plates. The former is preferable when many pictures 
must be taken in rapid succession. Its drawback is the 
length of time required for developing and drying the 
film. In news work this is often a distinct handicap. 
However, there are many features in its favor as being 
able to carry enough film for several hundreds of shots 
and only having to load the camera after each hundred 
exposures. Until very recently the roll film has been faster 
and of better quality than cut film or plates. 

The smaller cameras are usually equipped with maga- 
zines for either plates or cut film, and while they do not 
usually compare with the roll film in quality, they can be 
handled very much faster. A motorcycle can rush a maga- 
zine from the airport to the newspaper or syndicate and 
in little time the films are developed and printed, while if 
only a few shots are made on a roll the camera must be 
taken to the darkroom so the exposed film can be cut from 
the roll sealed in a container and then sent to the labora- 
tory for developing. This greatly delays the dispatching 
of the prints to the newspaper or syndicate. 

In aerial work filters are extremely important. One 
chief reason for this is that as soon as you are more than 
three or four hundred feet above the earth you encounter 
blue haze, and the higher you go the denser the haze, 
so naturally a denser filter is required to cut it. For low 
flying I recommend an "Aero i" filter which cuts a 
certain amount of blue haze but also softens white objects 



GET THAT PICTURE 173 

which on a bright day have a tendency to helate. For 
intermediate flying, i.e., one to six thousand feet up, an 
"Aero 2" filter is required, and above six thousand feet 
a minus blue filter is used. There are filters in between 
these mentioned but for the usual work they are not 
necessary. 

Every ascent into the blue is a new adventure. Every 
new scene to be photographed presents a new problem. 
There are hazards which the news cameraman on the 
street does not have to face, but the objective is the same 
get the picture, and get it back pronto. It is a thrilling 
game, and while it is not as glamorous as some other types 
of flying, I can assure you that there is plenty of kick to 
it and calls for the use of steel nerves, ,good judgement, 
quick wits and the keenest photographic ability on every 
trip. 



Chapter XII. 

THE PUBLICITY MAN GETS THE PICTURE! 

By HAMILTON WRIGHT, JR. 

(Hamilton Wright Publicity Organization) 

New York City 

(Mr. Wright has had published many thousands of 
publicity .pictures in newspapers and magazines throughout 
the world during his 18 years as a publicity executive. 
His organization headed by Hamilton Wright, Sr. and the 
author's three brothers enjoy an enviable reputation in 
publicity circles. It specializes in pictorial publicity and 
represents many foreign governments, resorts, universities 
and great industrial corporations.) 

Every outstanding personality on earth was made out- 
standing with the help of news publicity. News publicity 
can make or break any man. Daily it controls the 
theatrical box office, the flow of business at resorts, the 
elections, the sports events, the popularity of social lumi- 
naries, reactions pro or con to Government decisions, 
crusades and campaigns of every conceivable nature. 

Well directed publicity can saturate public opinion like 
the Flood. Poor publicity? well, if it's poor you never 
know the difference because it just isn't. Thanks to 
journalistic standards today editors are the bull dogs for 
press agents. Poor ideas hit an editor's waste paper 
basket with a sickening thud. An idea has got to click or 
it doesn't get into print. An idea today must be sound, 
constructive, interesting. 

Pictures in modern publicity today is still in a sadly 
developed stage. The written word is 100% more per- 



GET THAT PICTURE 175 

feoted in the realms of publicity than emulsionized ideas. 
I don't mean that publicity pictures are not mechanically 
perfect. Far from it. Exposure, timing, and printing are 
as a rule excellent. Indeed, I'd say that 60% of the 
photographers who take publicity pictures are top notch 
men. But out of every 100 publicity photographs you 
won't find three that can create news. And herein lies 
the key to success in pictorial publicity. What you need 
is an idea. And you have to know what is essential in a 
picture to carry that idea across. Remember, pictures 
don't lie. The camera sees everything all your faults 
or all your good points. Every picture should tell a story. 
A perfect publicity picture needs little or no caption writing 
it sells itself. 

I have an idea for a publicity picture. I've had it 
for two years, and I've never used it. I'll pass it along, 
and the first press agent who uses it will, I guarantee, get 
it published in every third newspaper and magazine in 
the country. It's an idea for some winter resort. There 
isn't much left in winter resorts that hasn't been published. 
Editors are submitted the same humdrum pictures every 
season skiing, jumping, skating, personalities, etc. What's 
left? Nothing! You've got to manufacture it. In order 
to get the name of the resort published in hundreds of 
newspapers you've got to give the papers a picture con- 
taining so rnuch dynamic and interesting material that 
they'll gladly publish your picture. Here's the idea. Ten 
men skiing through the air simultaneously in line forma- 
tion! Impossible? Almost! In order to get this picture 
you would have to search for a hill with a projecting slope 
a la ski-jump. Let's assume you can't find it. Then get a 
team of horses, a half dozen men and build it. You can't 
find ten ski-jumpers? Then bring them up from the city 
or from a nearby ski club. They won't come? Then 
pay them. They can't jump together? Then train them. 



176 GET THAT PICTURE 

They don't do it right? Then do it again next week. And 
keep after it until you get them. 

But getting this alone is using an idea for only 50% 
of its possible value. How much nicer it woud be to have 
these ten boys sailing over the heads of a mixed group 
of winter vacationists relaxing for a moment during a 
snowshoe hike. Imagine them nonchalantly talking in 
knotted groups, some sitting, some strolling, some stand- 
ing, some enjoying a hot beverage. Perhaps some tables 
or chairs are ,nearby. Alright let's move the whole 
works right under the spot where our ten skylarking heroes 
are going to emulate the men on the flying trapeze winter 
tempo ! 

Thus we have a double-barrelled wallop in our picture. 
We have human interest galore. We have spectacular 
interest. We have news interest it's something new 
never been seen before. We have resort appeal, and, last 
but not least, we let the world know that the town of Snow 
Use of the Snow Use Winter Sports Vacationland is alive 
and kicking, and here's where you, dear newspaper reader, 
want to come when you think of winter recreation. We 
haven't mentioned the newsreels, but you can rest assured 
they'd go for this like a kitten goes for milk. 

Radio City, John D. Rockefeller's $100,000,000 de- 
pression-built emporium of business in the heart of Man- 
hattan, is perhaps one of the outstanding examples of 
what paper pulp can be made to do to pay dividends. 
Here, publicity played a major part in turning the tide of 
investment from a much prophesied white elephant into 
one of the smartest building investments in the history of 
Manhattan. Confronted with a $3,000,000 annual rental 
for property he owned in the area now Rockefeller Center, 
John D. Rockefeller, Jr. elected to make that property 
pay him $3,000,000 plus annually. He did, and it cost 
him $100,000,000. 

I was fortunate enough to be associated with the en- 



GET THAT PICTURE 177 

tire development shortly after the major part of the con- 
struction work had been done. Prior to that time news 
was sent to the press almost daily heralding: U A 7o-story 
building will rise at 49th Street and Fifth Avenue" "The 
world's largest theatre, a Music Hall will be built at 
50th Street and Sixth Avenue" "French, English, Italian 
and German Buildings will front Fifth Avenue between 
49th and 5ist Streets". It was excellent news, real news. 
The papers gobbled it up. But the time shortly came 
when they had become so saturated with this news that it 
no longer had sufficient reader interest to justify wide- 
spread publicity. The story had been told not once but 
ten times, and it was wearing off. Yet the time was com- 
ing when publicity was needed more than ever before. 
Offices were nearing completion for occupancy, and the 
renting department needed all the publicity the develop- 
ment could get to close leases. 

Studying the situation in all its aspects there was one 
thing left to do that had not been done pictorial pub- 
licity! No pictures dramatizing the tremendous, operation 
had been taken. No pictures showing four dozen men 
working at top speed in military-like formation with rock 
drills boring into the bowels of Manhattan's solid work 
had been made. They hadn't been made because four 
dozen men never worked on one spot, yet there were at 
times ten dozen at work throughout the development. I 
brought four dozen together, shot the pictures, and they 
were published not only from coast to coast but in many 
foreign countries. Rather than await the completion and 
placing of an important bit of sculpture we went direct 
to the artists' studios and had them assemble plaster 
models of gargantuan statues they were working out. 
Result pictures in all the papers. 

No stone was left unturned. If pictures didn't exist 
we made them exist. Time and again newspapers carried 
half-page rotogravure spreads of the entire development 



178 GET THAT PICTURE 

after it was completed and work was still going on within 
itself. But each time a news vehicle had to be provided. 
Once we arranged to have four autogyro planes, the only 
four in the East, fly over the Center in formation saluting 
the development. By luck we were able to get the first 
cabin autogyro and incidentally the first pictures ever taken 
of it. The day was set, and over they came at two p.m., 
one from Philadelphia, one from Floyd Bennett Field and 
two from Westchester County. By the time they got into 
formation the clouds let loose a downpour that nearly 
spelled disaster for the gyros. Again we scheduled it for 
the following Saturday, and on Sunday a week later papers 
from coast to coast carried spectacular pictures of those 
four ships majestically displayed against u john D. Rocke- 
feller's new $100,000,000 building development shortly to 
house executive offices of the nation's greatest businesses." 

Perhaps the most spectacular shot was one made on the 
spur of the moment during a lunch hour on top of the 
RCA building then skeletonized up to its 68th floor. I 
noticed that the steel workers thought nothing of sitting 
on the edge of a girder with a yawning abyss of nothing 
between them and the street. I suggested that a 60 or 
yo-foot steel girder be hoisted over the street, and asked 
the men if they would sit on it and eat their lunches while 
we took pictures. The response was so great that we had 
to cut the number down to eleven, and away with our 
cameras at a subject that made the reader hold his breath 
and solemnly swear to himself that he would never be a 
steel worker. 

I will now turn to another outstanding example of 
creative ability in picture publicity. Like other big col- 
leges, Fordham University has the usual classes in chem- 
istry, botany, and the other sciences. Legitimate news 
slowed down to a standstill one month not so long ago, 
and we were forced to turn on the "heat" in an effort to 
get publicity. Just because there is "nothing going on" 



GET THAT PICTURE 179 

is no reason why you should accept your check every 
month from any client. He pays for publicity, and he 
either gets it or you don't get paid. 

One day we wandered into the microscopic section and 
noticed a half dozen boys looking through the instruments. 
The idea struck us immediately to line up fifteen or twenty 
in such fashion that we could get a perfect alignment, 
almost uncanny in perspective, of those boys all observing 
at the same time. Consultations with the professor 
resulted in the boys being called into Room A after school 
hours, and we went to work. It was essential that the 
boys be all of uniform height, dressed alike, and using the 
left eye. A few foot stools brought uniformity in head 
height, white jackets came out of the laundry, and we 
went to work. This picture was comparatively simple to 
get a chance thought and it received widespread pub- 
licity. 

Readers throughout the country may still remember one 
unusual picture given prominent display in rotogravure, 
showing a trio of planes flying in perfect formation over 
a speeding express train in Florida. A lot of perspiration 
was spent on that one. 

The Blankety Blank Railroad has as its greatest com- 
petitor for Florida bound travel the Blankety X Railroad. 
I may be telling stories out of school in relating this inci- 
dent, but it is done to show that sometimes even the great 
minds in railroading miss a bet to advertise themselves. 

We were negotiating with the Blankety Blank outfit 
for a contract to handle news publicity for the winter 
season. The decision was constantly put off through 
jealousy on behalf of a certain advertising agency who 
thought we were doing work they should have done and 
taking money away from them. We told the agency we 
would give them a regular 15% commission off the total 
allotted for publicity, exactly the same profit they would 



180 GET THAT PICTURE 

have made if the money were spent for display advertising, 
but apparently it did no good. 

In the meantime, we had, with the encouragement of 
the Blankety Blank's traffic department gone ahead and 
arranged to have their crack train, making its annual in- 
augural run to Florida, the recipient of a cracker jack news 
picture event. 

The annual Air Meet was underway in Miami, and 
we thought it a fine idea to have the Army send one of its 
smoke screen laying planes fly up the line to meet the 
train bound south for Miami, and salute it with a smoke 
screen, while four other Army planes fly in tandem forma- 
tion right behind the locomotive. 

All arrangements had been made two weeks ahead of 
time with New York to Miami phone bills running close to 
$60. Yet the rail officials couldn't make up their minds 
whether they wanted to go into this or not. In fact, the 
cost to them was in pennies compared to the amount they 
spent for their display advertising. 

With ten hours to go before the flight was scheduled 
they advised us to call it off ! It was sickening, and it 
made me so mad that I grabbed the phone, called their 
competitor, the Blankety X line, and arranged the stunt 
with them. But it could not be done for a week as their 
crack train did not start until a week from this date. In 
the meantime, the Miami air meet ended, and the army 
planes went back to Texas. A truly sensational news 
picture was lost. 

What could we do? One other thing. We could 
arrange for four civilian flyers handling exactly the same 
type of ships. More phone calls to Miami, more head- 
aches when we learned there were not four planes alike 
available. It was necessary to have them all white for 
photographic purposes. We finally found three of a 
certain type in Miami. They were small single-seated, 



GET THAT PICTURE l8l 

two or three cylinder powered gliders, not very fast and 
not able to maneuver quickly. 

Our job was still in the embryonic stage. Working 
with the factory in the North we learned that two more 
were available in Florida, one in Jacksonville and one in 
St. Petersburg. We got them all to Miami. 

The day came. Up they went flying north to Palm 
Beach to meet the Special of the Blankety X line. Our 
camera plane, a powerful Stinson, followed them down 
the line as they attempted to get into tandem formation 
over the engine. Only two could keep in line, and the 
stunt flopped that day because the other three just didn't 
get in their places. I later learned that high winds made 
it impossible. Well, five times over a period of two weeks 
we kept at this stunt and finally got it. We didn't get 
what we wanted, but we got the next best thing. 

All arrangements, all the details, were of the long 
distance variety, and thanks to Karl Voelter of the Miami 
All American Airport, our close friend, who worked with 
us on a hundred similar stunts during our regime as pub- 
licity directors for the City of Miami, we got the best 
pictures possible. 

Needless to say, the striking picture appeared from 
coast to coast with the Sunday rotogravure sections giving 
it a prominent position much to the amazement and 
chagrin of the Blankety Blank Railroad. 



Chapter XIII. 
THE MINIATURE CAMERA ON THE NEWS JOB 

When the first "candid camera" pictures of the dele- 
gates' conferences at the League of Nations meeting at 
Geneva first arrived in this country, the editor of a large 
picture syndicate who first saw the intimate, unposed shots 
of the European bigwigs, the first of their kind, pointedly 
remarked: "These will revolutionize the news picture 
field." The small prints were arresting, exciting. Nothing 
like them had ever been made before. Here was Ramsay 
MacDonald with hand cupped to ear, another of Premier 
Laval of France in a moment of animated conversation with 
another foreign delegate, all snapped within the sacrosanct 
portals of the League to which a news cameraman had never 
been admitted. 

The photographer was Dr. Erich Salomon, a portly, 
bespectacled German, who up to the age of 42 had not even 
been an amateur photographer. Working as publicity di- 
rector for the famous Ullstein publishing house in Berlin 
in 1928, he had heard of a wonderful small camera that 
could be held in the palm of a hand and could make pictures 
without the aid of a flashlight. He decided then and there 
to buy one, and learned to operate it very efficiently. It was 
the Leica camera. Salomon, who enjoyed a wide acquaint- 
ance among Europe's statesmen, decided that he would take 
pictures of them in their most natural moments, conversing, 
laughing, seriously concentrating, yawning, revealing the 
human side of the great men to the public. He called him- 
self a photo-journalist. 

The word "candid camera" was coined by the London 
Graphic which had published the first of Salomon's unusual 



GET THAT PICTURE 183 

pictures in 1930. One of the pictures was startlingly frank 
in its subject and appeal, and created a sensation in the 
photographic world. The picture had been taken at two 
o'clock in the morning in a conference room of The Hague. 
Louis Loucheur, French Minister of Labor, was holding his 
hands to his weary eyes; French Premier Andre Tardieu 
was slumped back on a couch, with eyes almost closed, ap- 
parently exhausted. Old Henri Cheron, French Finance 
Minister, seated in a high-backed chair, was dozing off. 
Between Cheron and Tardieu sat Germany's Foreign Min- 
ister Dr. Julius Curtius, slowly succumbing to the smooth 
fingers of Morpheus. The light from a huge lamp in back 
of the couch was softly reflected on the delegates' stiff shirt- 
fronts and the high foreheads of Cheron and Loucheur. 
The meeting of men to decide the existences of millions of 
subjects! Unaware to these leaders, Dr. Salomon had 
stolen off to one side to focus his tiny camera and they 
never knew that their picture had been taken ! On looking 
at the picture, the reader could almost feel that he had 
been present at this momentous meeting. 

The "candid camera" had triumphed, and Dr. Salomon's 
intimate studies were in immediate demand. 

Years before Dr. Salomon's imposing entrance into the 
field, Dr. Paul Wolff had made hundreds of interesting 
studies with the Leica, and his work was arousing great 
interest in the field of art photography in Germany. 

The tiny camera that could use movie film so successfully 
was the invention of Oskar Barnack employed by the Leitz 
Company at Wetzlar, Germany. He made one for himself 
in 1914 and one for Dr. Ernst Leitz, Sr., president of the 
company, and the first picture ever taken by a Leica showed 
a Berlin kiosk covered with a Government poster announc- 
ing the official proclamation of the mobilization of the Ger- 
man Army. Barnack did not turn seriously to the improve- 
ment of his camera until after the war. He then added a 



I 84 GET THAT PICTURE 

new lens, the Elmar, designed by Professor Max Berek, also 
employed by the Leitz Company. By 1926, the Leica had 
made its appearance in the show-window of nearly every 
photographic dealer in Germany. Starting with Model A, 
the Leitz Company steadily added improvements, until to- 
day its Model G practically leaves the camera fan nothing 
further to be desired to take any kind of picture under any 
kind of condition. 

Soon after Leica's appearance on the market, other 
miniature cameras, or minicams as they are popularly known, 
were turned out by rival manufacturers, and in 1931, the 
Contax, the Leica's chief competitor, was offered to the pub- 
lic by the Zeiss-Ikon Company, the world's largest camera 
manufacturers. Today there are as many as 40 different 
makes of miniature cameras defined as those which use film 
two and a quarter by three and a quarter inches or smaller. 
There are as many as 100,000 miniature cameras in use in 
this country alone. The "minibug," the tyro or the profes- 
sional cameraman using the miniature camera is to be seen 
everywhere today, training the compact marvel of precision 
on every conceivable subject. The bacteriologists, botanists, 
dentists, and physicians are finding it an invaluable aid in 
their professions; the librarian is using it to photograph old 
manuscripts; the commercial artist is finding it a boon to 
his work; nearly every large newspaper and picture syndi- 
cate in the country has added one or more to its photo- 
graphic equipment in their pursuit of the news picture. 

The most astonishing feature of the miniature camera is 
its ability to capture all the details of the subject on its tiny 
one inch by one and one-half inch film, taken under any 
kind of light, and have the details faithfully enlarged on a 
print eleven by fourteen inches, enough to satisfy the most 
discriminating camera fan or editor. Enlargements have 
even been made up to eight feet square and larger for com- 
mercial purposes. There have always been small hand cam- 




Hamilton Wright 

THEY CAN'T PICK UP THEIR NAPKINS 

Lunch hour found these steel workers perched on a girder 68 stories above 

the street, without the slightest concern either for the photographer making 

a shot from another steel beam. The men were at work at the time on the 

completion of the Rockefeller Center in Manhattan. 




Hamilton Wright 

FUTURE LEADERS IN SCIENCE 

A perfect line-up of Fordham University members of a class in microscopic 

anatomy under the direction of Dr. James A. Mullen, Associate Professor of 

Biology, preparing for final tests in the subject. 




Wide World Photos 

A FLAMING GIANT OF THE AIR 

Flames consume the last fabric of the huge German dirigible Hindenburg- 
and the former proud monarch of hte air is shown but a twisted mass of 
steel ribs taken in about a minute after the first flames shot out of her 
tail while maneuvering for a landing- at Lakehurst, N. J., May 6, 1937. The 
body of one of the passengers who had leaped lies in the foreground. 
Thirty- -five passengers and members of the crew were burned to death. 
Photographers waiting for a routine landing recorded the greatest picture 

story of all time. 




Acme Nevvspictures 

AND THE FLYER ESCAPED UNHURT 

It was a miraculous escape for Gordon Israel when he attempted to land his 
plane while going 80 miles an hour after winning the 50-mile free-for-all race 
at the Omaha Air Races, August 12, 1934. The plane bounced, landed on its 
nose, and then settled to the ground. Israel was unhurt and walked from 
the smashed plane unaided. 



GET THAT PICTURE 185 

eras on the market, but the coarse film grain, when enlarged, 
was the bane of the photographer's existence. Even as far 
back as 1880 there was a camera called the Stirn which 
could be strapped around the body, with its lens poked 
through a button-hole, and there were others that had the 
size and appearance of watches, and still others called detec- 
tive cameras in odd sizes and shapes. But with the present 
minicams, the fine precision instruments they are, have all 
the advantages of its compactness plus the favorable results 
of the large hand cameras. And with the aid of fine grain 
developers, the results have fulfilled the age-long dream of 
the cameraman. 

Fast, anastigmatic lenses are a feature of the miniature 
camera, and speeds up to i/i25Oth of a second can be ob- 
tained to snap the fastest action of a racing car or speeding 
plane. An exchangeable lens enables the photographer to 
shoot anything from closeups of bugs and flowers to the 
views of the distant skyscraper or mountain top. He has 
the choice of using a standard, a wide angle or telescopic 
lens. The built-in range finders, which operate with any of 
the many interchangeable lenses enables the photographer 
to focus his picture with accuracy by a simple turning of the 
lens barrel, and were first installed by both the Leica and 
Contax manufacturers in 1931. 

To the minifan the entire business of owning and using 
the miniature camera has been so absorbing and fascinating 
that he eats, sleeps, and talks focal lengths, lens speeds, 
range finders, angle view finders, and the rest of the acces- 
sories as sun shades, self-timing devices, filters, which con- 
tinue on into the darkroom vernacular of the fine grain 
developers, fixing and hardening solutions, the printing 
papers with their grades of contrast. One fan will compare 
his results with the next, and the perpetual question will be 
bandied back and forth: "What stop and speed did you 
use for such and such a shot, and did you use Plenachrome 



I 86 GET THAT PICTURE 

film or Superpan?", and so on. Then, of course, there will 
be the topic of the new device recently placed on the market : 
"Did you get such and such a lens, and such and such a 
filter?" There are 336 gadgets alone which the Leitz firm 
sells for their miniature camera, but, of course, all are not 
necessary for the immediate purchaser. 

There is even a correction lens on the market for the 
man who wears glasses, so he can properly focus, and a re- 
mote release and shutter winder for the man who is inter- 
ested in nature photography, so that by using two cables 
attached at a distance to guides and rollers on the winding 
knob of the camera, he is able to snare a series of the wild 
animal in his lair or the mother bird with its young in the 
nest. 

For special purposes, as astronomical observatories, 
lenses have been built up to about six feet in height for use 
with the Contax. 

To the newspaper and syndicate picture editor, the 
question of the miniature camera had to be weighed more 
solemnly than to the man on the street who saw in it an 
instrument for relaxation and personal pleasure. Could the 
crime, the fire, the accident, the feature story be covered 
with the same speed and accuracy as the larger cameras? 
To some of these questions which flitted in and out of the 
editors' minds, as the country took to the miniature camera 
by storm, the answers came back in the affirmative. The 
miniature camera became part of the darkroom equipment. 

Since speed is essential, the developing times for the 
cut film and glass plates used in the Graphic and Graflex, 
and the film used in the miniature cameras, were compared. 
The plate holder film is still the fastest to develop and more 
easily to handle. For instance, the standard developing 
time for a negative used in the larger cameras takes six min- 
utes; the fast Super X film in the Leica and Contax takes 
twenty minutes. The newspaper cameraman thereby still 



GET THAT PICTURE I 87 

clings to his Graphic and Graflex; it truly is a marvel for 
speed both on the job and in the darkroom. But the minia- 
ture camera is also an invaluable aid, especially in the cover- 
age of semi-news and feature stories where the five or six 
picture series will give a vivid running account of a story, 
and also enables the cameraman to enter places where a 
camera case is immediately barred. Its feature of incon- 
spicuousness is one that gives it great value in a newspaper 
office. 

The picture magazines, like Life and Look, and others 
that feature a summary of the news in word and picture 
like Time and News Week, are making extensive use of the 
miniature camera, and many unusual news pictures have 
been taken by the men with the minicams employed by these 
magazines. 

Carl Mydams, one of the many photographers employ- 
ed by Life Magazine, was assigned to cover the crash of a 
Western Air Express liner in the mountains outside Los 
Angeles. The Martin Johnsons were among the passengers 
aboard the ill-fated ship. 

"Deep mud and almost no road made climbing on foot 
the only way to the crash," he narrates. "The first four 
miles were in a heavy mountain downpour. The last two 
in a sub-zero snowstorm. Then having reached the top, we 
news cameramen had to wait for hours for a team of mules 
and a tractor to draw a truck and a hay rick to the mountain 
top to carry down the injured. Our only shelter was an old 
wood shed used in the summer time by a fire lookout. When 
it came time, many hours later, to make pictures of the 
transfer of the injured from the lookout house and the 
crashed plane itself, to the truck and hayrick, my speedgun 
which had been soaked in the heavy downpour during the 
climb up, had frozen and would not work. I made all my 
pictures with a Contax on the light of the moviemen's one 



I 88 GET THAT PICTURE 

minute flares and was able to cover the complete transfer 
of the injured." 

Mydam's equipment consists of two Contax chassies 
and six supplementary lenses. He usually works with a two 
inch lens in one camera and one of the five lenses which the 
situation calls for, in the second camera. His third camera 
is a 3% x 4*4 Speed Graphic with a Carl Zeiss 3.5 lens, a 
Kalert rangefinder and a Mendelsohn speed gun. Mydams 
believes that this equipment combination will cover any 
situation that might arise. 

One of the most unusual series of news photographs was 
taken by the unobtrusive minicam. When Thomas Dowell 
McAvoy was assigned to cover President Roosevelt's sign- 
ing of the Brazilian Trade Agreement in the White House 
early in 1935, McAvoy laid careful plans to get something 
different than the other cameramen. His film for the Leica 
he was using was specially sensitized in an ammonia bath. 
While the other cameramen waited until the President fin- 
ished his routine letter-signing to get their shots, McAvoy 
quietly pressed the button of his miniature camera twenty 
times. They were the first complete candid camera record 
of a President in an official capacity, although a few years 
earlier Dr. Salomon had for the first time snapped a news 
picture of a President performing an official duty in a part 
of the White House other than his office or library. At the 
insistence of his friend Premier Laval of France, Herr 
Salomon was admitted to the Lincoln Study in the White 
House to make pictures of Laval's conference with Presi- 
dent Hoover. While Laval, conversing through an interp- 
reter, gesticulated in typical foreign manner, Salomon made 
several interesting shots and the candid camera's intrusion 
into the sanctum sanctorum of the White House was the 
first big stone cast into the pool of American news photog- 
raphy to create ever widening ripples. 

Another famed minicam-armed explorer of the news 



GET THAT PICTURE 189 

world, Peter Stackpole, whose pictures have filled many 
pages in Time, Fortune and Life magazines, first created a 
sensation with the candid camera shot he took of Herbert 
Hoover fast asleep during Secretary of Labor Perkin's 
speech at the University of California Charter Day exer- 
cises several years ago. He made the picture while on a 
special assignment for an Oakland Republican paper which 
could find no space for such a shot of Republican Hoover. 
A friend of his insisted that he send it, along with several 
other shots, to Time magazine and it was that shot that 
started him upward on the road to fame. The magazine 
immediately hired him as a member of its staff. 

The most exciting assignment, Stackpole says he has 
had, was his first with Fortune when he was assigned to 
Hearst's summer estate at Wintoon in Oregon. The pic- 
tures were to accompany an article on the Hearst Empire. 
Stackpole had been given a list of about fifty subjects to be 
sure to get but he had only two days to do the job. He man- 
aged to cover most of the fifty and still take additional ma- 
terial such as Hearst's guests, the publisher's Tyrolian hats, 
his foreign auto plates on his car and other details that 
might have escaped a less enterprising cameraman. When 
the issue came out, more of the circumstantial shots Stack- 
pole had taken about the place were used than the many 
given him on the list. 

Stackpole, whose series of candid camera shots such 
as the bridge photos in Vanity Fair, the Hearst story in 
Fortune and the Cardinals baseball training camp in Flor- 
ida, Noel Coward backstage, life of the Admiral of the 
U. S. Fleet and the Dartmouth Winter Carnival in Life 
magazine, have won wide acclaim, uses a Model F and G 
Leica with Summar F.2 lens, Elmar 50 mm. 3.5 lens, Elmar 
90 mm. F.4 lens, 135 mm. Telephoto lens and Elmar Wide 
Angle lens. He says that he uses also a Contax often be- 
cause with it he has three speed lenses of three useful focal 



190 GET THAT PICTURE 

lengths, a Biotar 40 mm. because of its fine depth of focus 
at large stops, the rapid Fi.5 Sonnar 50 mm. lens for ex- 
tremely poor light and the 85 mm. F.2 telephoto lens which 
he says he finds useful for performance photographs. For 
assignments requiring stopped action indoors where the 
light is too poor to use either the Leica or the Contax, he 
uses a Welta roll film camera with synchronized speed gun. 

Another sensational news picture, the electrocution of 
Gerald Thompson, sex slayer, at the Joliet, 111. prison was 
made with the aid of a miniature camera by William Van- 
divert, now with Life magazine, and employed at the time 
by the Chicago Herald and Examiner. He carried a Contax 
with a Fi.5 lens past the guards slung in the crotch of his 
pants. He took ten shots, eight of which turned out well, 
and one-third of another negative was blown up to a 16 x 20 
print to make a complete back page. The results were all 
the more remarkable because he had to guess focus at fifteen 
feet, but he got them "right on the button." 

Vandivert also had a narrow escape from death or seri- 
ous injury recently when he accompanied four union organ- 
izers into a laundry intending to call a sitdown strike. The 
owner of the laundry took a shot at the group. When the 
police arrived in response to a riot call the owner put the 
finger on Vandivert as the spokesman for the organizers, 
and he spent an uncomfortable afternoon in the prosecutor's 
office explaining that he had just gone along for the fun and 
a series of pictures. 

Another Life magazine cameraman, Bernard Hoffman, 
had an amusing experience one day when he was getting 
ready to make a series of pictures in a "hot dog" factory. 
Just as he was about ready to shoot his pictures he discov- 
ered that the damp, salt-laden air had coated the lens on his 
camera. He made some repairs, and then, because of a 
soggy connection, blew out all the light fuses in the place. 
Jhe "hot dogs" had to lie low for a while. 



GET THAT PICTURE 191 

Besides his miniature cameras, the Leica and the Welta 
for flashlight shots, he also uses a 5 x 7 Korona for person- 
ality studies, still life and wide angle shots. 

Picture editors on the dailies and syndicates are con- 
tinually assigning cameramen with minicams to make the 
five or more picture series. The circus is in town : the 
cameraman will make a layout of the performers, the 
clowns, the animals, and most interesting of all, the children 
spectators who, in the unposed moment, gaze with eyes wide 
opened in amazement while the aerial acrobats go through 
their stunts. Children are among the best subjects to cap- 
ture with the minicams. Quietly, the cameramen will steal 
unawares within shooting distance to get the most natural 
pictures. With the larger cameras, children consciously 
stiffen and assume the most awkward poses; they are very 
much aware of the lens being trained on them. Some of 
them have a fear of the flashlights, and the sudden burst of 
light will frighten the smaller children into screams and 
tears. 

The miniature camera is also well adapted to the dinner, 
night club and theatre. All the natural poses of the celebrity 
eating, drinking, conversing, smiling, seriously engrossed in 
a moment of deep thinking, render the series of pictures the 
most life-like possible, and the aura the public places over 
a well known figure is replaced by a much more sensible 
depiction of him when they see his likeness in a real human 
mood and moment. By jove, he's human he can throw his 
head back and really guffaw 1 The minicam has caught him 
at that moment. There is no ego or pose when the minia- 
ture camera catches him off his guard. 

Barred doors have disappeared as if by magic before the 
cameraman armed with the miniature. With the camera 
comfortably fitting into his pocket or safely hidden beneath 
his coat, the photographer has invaded courtrooms, select 
dining rooms, debutante parties, board of director meetings, 



192 GET THAT PICTURE 

state ceremonials, diplomats' conferences, gambling halls, 
clip joints, and gone off into a quiet corner and taken his 
pictures without a person aware of his presence. The 
mighty gun with the silencer but more effective! The 
angle view finder that deceptive looking gadget has con- 
quered many an unwilling subject! 

What miniature camera to use? The question is asked 
a hundred times daily, across the shopkeeper's counter, the 
student's desk, the artist's easel, the newspaper cameraman's 
darkroom. Some prefer the Leica, others will swear by 
the Contax, others the Robot, the man with the thin wallet 
the $2.50 Univex or the $12.50 American-made Argus, the 
rich tyro the Zeiss' $650 Contaflex. Each one has its par- 
ticular attraction for the minifan. It is just a matter of 
taste and individual preference and the pocketbook for 
one will have a certain feature lacking in the other. Each 
day brings forth a new camera, a new improvement, so it is 
impossible to judge which is the best. With proper hand- 
ling, a picture of perfect tone and structural balance can be 
obtained from one as well as the next. 

The miniature camera has accomplished one big thing. 
As a bright, new weapon in the ceaseless quest for the photo- 
graphic gem, it has stirred the imaginations of thousands to 
the possibilities of new triumphs in the photographic field. 
To the news cameraman, ever tireless in his recording of the 
human drama, it is opening new vistas of accomplishment. 
Spurred by faith in its powers of achievement, he will record 
new picture documents to give to the world as imperishable 
data. 



Chapter XIV. 

THE GREATEST PICTURE STORIES 
HINDENBURG CRASH PANAY BOMBING 

The Chinese have a proverb: "One good picture is 
worth ten thousand words." This is often exaggerated, 
but on two stories, it was an understatement. The pic- 
tures taken of the dirigible Hindenburg disaster on May 
6> J 937 an d the bombing of the United States gunboat 
Panay in the Yangtze River on December 12, 1937 pre- 
sented the full horror of the catastrophes as no amount 
of words could have ever expressed they were the most 
dramatic and spectacular picture stones of all time. 

Twenty-odd cameramen, movies and still, were on the 
ground at Lakehurst, N. J., awaiting the routine landing 
of the giant Hindenburg with 97 persons aboard. At 
7 :2O p.m. the first of her landing lines was flung to a 
ground crew of Navy men and civilians. The second 
followed, and then suddenly a burst of flame shot out from 
the port side of her stern. Cries of horror rent the air 
as a terrific explosion shook the giant bag, and in an 
incredibly few seconds the flaming ship, racked by suc- 
cessive explosions, sank earthward, a dragon-tongue of 
fire spitting from its nose turned skyward. In less time 
than it takes to tell, the burning mass crashed to the earth 
as more explosions followed, and mountains of flame and 
smoke blotted out the sky. 

Just before she struck the ground, passengers and 
crew leaped from the fiery hell, some to be crushed be- 
neath the flaming hulk, others to be dragged to safety by 
the landing crew who at first ran for safety and then 
turned back risking death and injury to save many lives. 



194 GET THAT PICTURE 

Ambulances clanged to the scene, doctors and nurses 
rushed to give first aid, and fire fighters turned great 
streams of water and chemicals into the cauldron of smoke 
and fire. 

Those 49 seconds that turned a glistening monarch 
of the air into a fiery mass of twisted aluminum ribs and 
snuffed the lives of 35 persons were caught by the veteran 
cameramen as they stood there, horrified and gaping, but 
with steady hands completed the picture record of a dis- 
aster which time will never dim. 

It is the first time in history that the news photogra- 
pher was able to record on his negatives the start of a 
major catastrophe. 

Murray Becker, Associated Press photographer, was 
focusing his camera on the Hindenberg as she maneuvered 
into landing, aiming for a nice twilight shot, when the 
first flames spurted across its tail. In that split-second, 
before the ship began to dive, he snapped the first picture 
of the flaming dirigible while on an even keel. The 
others raised their eyes to the view finders, but the ship 
was already heading earthward. 

The cameramen steeled themselves to rigid control of 
hands and eyes as they clicked picture after picture, snap- 
ping out holders, one after the other, and then raced for- 
ward toward the settling inferno to get the closeup shots 
of the victims plummeting to the ground and others with 
clothing burnt from their bodies and flesh hanging in strips 
being assisted from the scene by Navy men, Marines and 
civilians. Disregarding the explosions that continued to 
tear the flaming mass apart and the terrible heat which 
beat their bodies with the fierceness of a thousand open- 
door furnaces, the photographers kept on shooting every 
available plate to cover the story completely. 

Every newspaper and syndicate photographer on the 
job turned in remarkable pictures of the disaster. The 
New York Daily News had two men, Charles Hoff and 



GET THAT PICTURE 195 

Robert Seelig, Sam Shere represented International News 
Photos, Samuel Meyers was the New York Times Wide 
World cameraman, William Springfield was Acme News' 
staffman on the job, Murray Becker worked for Associated 
Press, and four Philadelphia newspapers had staff camera- 
men there, Jack Snyder representing the Record, Joseph 
Nelson the Inquirer, Gus Pasquarella the Ledger and 
Harry McGonigal the Bulletin. 

Despite the fact that he was struck down by one of 
the landing cables as he was about to take a shot of the 
ship at the first explosion, Meyers regained his feet in an 
instant, and though shaken up, started shooting his pic- 
tures which were as complete as any of the others. 

Prior to their landing at Lakehurst in two News' 
planes long in advance of the arrival of the Hindenberg, 
Hoff and Seelig had taken many pictures of the ship from 
the air. A plane was still on the field when the explosion 
occurred. Their first plates were handed to the pilot who 
flew them back to North Beach, Long Island, and then 
rushed by car to the News' office. As a result, the News 
was the first on the streets in New York with the pictures 
of the disaster. 

While the photographers continued shooting their pic- 
tures, Miss Patricia O'Malley, press representative of the 
American Air Lines, raced from cameraman to camera- 
man, collecting their holders, and then made for a plane 
which the Lines had waiting on the field to bring the 
Hindenburg's passengers to Newark. On its arrival at 
Newark Airport, waiting motorcycle drivers, dispatched 
from the syndicates' offices, grabbed the plates and 
streaked back to New York. 

While these were being developed and printed, relief 
photographers and portable equipment for the wire trans- 
mission of pictures direct from the scene were already en- 
route by plane to Lakehurst, and a short while thereafter 
planes were shuttling back and forth to bring fresh mate- 



196 GET THAT PICTURE 

rials and men, and return new stacks of undeveloped nega- 
tives. 

In the New York offices, editors, printers and boys 
worked right through the night and morning, without a 
single letup, to rush the remarkable pictures by plane and 
train to newspaper members. Editors everywhere filled 
page after page with the pictures, replating in many in- 
stances. An outstanding example of speed in picture repro- 
duction was the ability of the New York Times to place 
pictures of the disaster in its first edition, a little more 
than an hour and a half after the first flames were sighted 
on the Hindenburg's tail. 

Within ten minutes after the arrival of the undeveloped 
plates in the offices, syndicates were placing the prints on 
the telephone wires to be whirled to every part of the 
country, and West Coast readers of the morning papers 
were able to see the complete picture story in front of 
them. 

Motorcycle messengers rushed prints to the Radio 
Corporation of America in downtown New York to be 
radioed to London and Buenos Aires, and the following 
morning radioed pictures front paged the English and 
Argentine editions. 

The astounding shots that revealed the majestic 
queen of the air crumpling into fire streaked ruins were 
within a few hours hurtling from city to city, from con- 
tinent to continent, with every device known to the news 
photographic world to speed them on their way. 

Two amateur photographers also broke into print 
with their miniature camera records of the Hindenburg's 
last landing. Arthur Cofod, Jr., armed with a Leica, had 
a full-page layout in Life magazine, showing the disaster 
from start to finish. His hands shook violently as he took 
his first shot, but steadied himself and took the others 
successfully as he held his ground. Foo Chu, a Chinese 
amateur, who had casually gone to Lakehurst to try for 



GET THAT PICTURE 197 

interesting angles of the Hindenburg with his miniature 
camera, secured an excellent series which were purchased 
by the New York Daily News and used in continuity form 
in double-truck display. 

From those men who with their trusty Graphics had 
gone down to Lakehurst to cover another routine assign- 
ment, and the amateur photographers who with their ever- 
handy miniatures had chanced upon the story, have come 
the "pictures of the century." To them belong full and 
everlasting credit. It was a story where only cameramen 
with steel nerves, steady hands and eyes, and lightning 
action could get the epic pictures they secured, the most 
dramatic and remarkable ever made till that time in the 
history of news photography. 

Then seven months later came the bombing of the 
Panay and the news photographer added fresh laurels to 
his crowning list of achievements. The Panay pictures 
were secured under far more trying conditions, a greater 
risk of death and injury, than those which the cameramen 
got at Lakehurst. When we read the story of that hor- 
rible Sunday adventure on the Yangtze, it is a miracle that 
any pictures were secured at all. 

It is another bright tribute to the bravery of the news 
cameraman. 

From the moment the power-diving Japanese planes 
roared over the ship riding at anchor 28 miles upstream 
from Nanking, unleashing their first bomb, a direct hit 
putting the fore gun of the ship out of commission, Nor- 
man Soong, New York Times Wide World photographer, 
recorded with his Leica strung from his neck, a series of 
seventy pictures, showing every phase of the Panay's proud 
but helpless fight against overwhelming odds. 

Soong was on the top deck of the ship that fatal after- 
noon of December 12, discussing with others the incident 
of the morning, the boarding of a Japanese officer at 
Nanking, when the first warning whistle was sounded. 



198 GET THAT PICTURE 

Oncoming Japanese planes, a formation of three, had been 
sighted. "Look, there they are! See the red balls on 
them!", someone had shouted. Soong scented trouble. 
He made a dash for his room where he had left his 
camera. A second later came the deafening explosion of 
a bomb. It was a direct hit. The ship shook from stem 
to stern. Wood splinters, glass and water were thrown 
over him as he sought a vantage point from which to shoot 
his pictures. 

Fragments of the shell had left their marks. There 
were wounded men all over the ship. Lieutenant Com- 
mander J. J. Hughes was thrown against the bridge wheel, 
breaking his right leg near the hip. J. Hall Paxton, Sec- 
ond Secretary of the U. S. Embassy, was struck by a shell 
fragment on the shoulder. The gunners ran for the machine 
guns and started firing. Smoke and the dust of flying 
debris left the men choking for breath. Again came the 
pursuit bombers with their deliberate dives, and more 
deafening concussions. 

Through the thick of it Soong kept on clicking his 
camera. Two newsreel photographers, Norman W. Alley 
and Eric Mayell were right there with him filming the 
terrible moments for posterity. Alley cranked his camera 
on the machine gun deck close to the machine gunners 
futilely training their small weapons on the zooming ships. 
Alley was hit in the leg by a shell fragment and a finger 
on his left hand was scratched by a bullet, but he wasn't 
the least bit fazed and continued to crank his camera. 

On the starboard deck was Mayell who was working 
from an exposed spot. The planes kept returning in for- 
mation. Every time the bombs struck the photographers 
would duck and then return to their cameras to snap the 
effects of the explosions. No cameramen, even in the World 
War, had ever shot pictures under more harrowing condi- 
tions. It is remarkable that their pictures came out as well as 
they did. Soong finished a roll of film, then made a dash for 



GET THAT PICTURE 199 

the engine room hatchway. By that time the Panay was 
shipping water rapidly. 

At 2:05 p.m., exactly 35 minutes after the first shell 
struck, Lieutenant A. F. Anders who was unable to speak 
because of his throat gashed by a bomb fragment, scribbled 
on a bloody pad orders to abandon ship. An outboard 
sampan was lowered over the port side and the wounded 
taken off. The planes dived low to machine gun the boat. 
A bullet pierced the side and killed Seaman Charles Lee 
Ensminger. Then came their turns for the uninjured to 
leave the ship. Soong was only able to save his Leica 
and a few rolls of film. The rest of his equipment went down 
with the boat. 

The wounded were tenderly placed among the twelve- 
foot reeds on the bank of the river, on the few dry spots 
that could be found in the swamps. The uninjured did 
everything to alleviate the sufferings of the dying and the 
wounded. While they waited for help to arrive from the 
town of Hohsien, where Mr. Paxton and others had gone 
to break the news and summon aid, Soong took some of 
his most outstanding shots. Dusk was already approach- 
ing, and Soong had to work quickly before the light 
disappeared. 

Three of his most dramatic pictures made there were 
the ones showing Sandro Sandri, Italian journalist, who 
was struck by a bullet, being comforted in his dying 
moments by Luigi Barzini, a fellow Italian newspaperman, 
who was also aboard the Panay; Chief Quartermaster 
John Lang, whose jaw was split open by a bomb fragment, 
sitting on an improvised couch and trying to stem the flow 
of blood, and the brave Lieutenant Anders with bandaged 
throat and arm lying prone on a makeshift bed. 

At nine o'clock that night a relief party arrived from 
Hohsien, and the five-mile trek began over a dangerous river 
bank which at times threatened to give way under his feet 
Alley had hidden his camera in the swamps lest Japanese 



200 GET THAT PICTURE 

soldiers surprise them and destroy it. Doors and bamboo 
couches were used to carry the thirteen wounded men. Soong, 
an American-born Chinese, and Paxton with their knowledge 
of the language were helpful throughout the trip, and pre- 
vented the survivors from being fired upon by Chinese sen- 
tries. 

The news of the tragedy was already reverberating 
throughout the world. Day after day, the story was front- 
page news. But the public was more anxious to see the 
pictures than they were to read the accounts. 

Picture syndicates and newsreel companies made fever- 
ish preparations for the safe despatch and arrival of the 
reels and films. 

American and British gunboats brought the survivors to 
Shanghai. There Soong developed his films and made prints. 
Three American destroyers carried the films, reels and 
prints to Manila arriving there a day before the China 
Clipper, giant trans-Pacific plane, was scheduled to leave 
for the United States. Alley accompanied his 4500 feet of 
precious film. While in Manila, Alley had his leg wound 
treated before continuing on his way. 

The morning of December 28 came. The Clipper 
glided into the bay off Alameda, California. Motorcycles 
rushed the packages into the syndicate offices in San Fran- 
cisco, a short distance away. The pictures were soon hum- 
ming over the telephone wires to newspapers all over the 
country. Millions of readers saw for the first time the 
horrible tragedy of the Panay bombing. 

The cameramen who recorded the Panay bombing 
have made news photography, a symbol of greatness, a 
profession to be very proud of, indeed. 

The Hindenburg crash, the Panay bombing no other 
stories have ever tested the cameraman's courage more. 
Amid two outstanding trials of peace and war, the news- 
paper photographer has proven that he will never flinch in 
the line of duty. He does not have to be told: "Get that 
picture!" He gets it! 






I 



every large picture syndicate in 
an editorial capacity the for- 
mer Pacific and Atlantic Photos, 
syndicate of the New York News 
and Chicago Tribune, Acme 
Newspictures, Associated Press 
Photos and the New York Times 
Wide World Photos where he is 
at present. 

He not only deals with the 
newspaper photographer that 
daring, resourceful fellow who 
seeks no glory but only strives 
to "get that picture" and re- 
lates thrilling adventures that lie 
behind so many of the master- 
pieces of the news camera, but 
he also tells of the history and 
development of news photogra- 
phy, the rise of picture papers 
here and abroad, the transporta- 
tion of pictures by train, plane, 
dog sled, pigeon and the 
present-day marvel of scientific 
research wired transmission. 
He also tells of the war camera- 
man, the aerial photographer, 
the woman gatherer of news 
pictures. Every phase is com- 
pletely covered. 

The author presents a word 
picture of an interesting and 
engrossing profession that is 
sharply focused and well com- 
posed. 



WORLD 




*t 



PICTURES 



Newspaper publishers and editors are realizing more 
and more the value of news pictures as a circulation 
builder and advertisement attraction. The growth of pic- 
torial news in this country in the past decade has been 
nothing less than sensational. There is scarcely a daily 
or weekly anywhere in the country which is not using 
photographs in one form or the other. Many of the larger 
newspapers subscribe to syndicates for news pictures in 
print form, still more take the matrix service, while others 
are turning to the use of inexpensive one-man engraving 
plants for the publication of pictures of local interest. THIS 
IS THE PHOTOGRAPHIC AGE IN THE NEWSPAPER 
WORLD. 

Behind this remarkable growth in pictorial news lies a 
great story one that is now being told for the first time 
in this book "Get That Picture! - - The Story of the News 
Cameraman/' written by A. J. Ezickson of the New York 
Times Wide World Photos. 

He not only deals with the newspaper photographer - 
how he gets his daily picture, the routine shot or the 
"scoop" but relates in thrilling manner of the adventures 
that lie behind so many of the masterpieces of the news 
camera, he ..also tells of the history and development of 
news photography, the rise of picture newspapers here 
and abroad, how pictures are transported from faraway 
places, brought thousands of miles by plane, train, dog 
sled, pigeon and the present-day method of wired trans- 
mission - - a marvel of scientific enterprise and research. 

The author searchingly goes into all the bypaths of 
the news picture field, presenting in vivid detail all the 
experiences of his sixteen-year connection with picture 
syndicates.