Peril to Spare

Worry all you want about dicey neighborhoods; the most dangerous thing most TV News photogs do is climb behind the wheel. At least that's the case with James Walter Moore, Jr.  - the forty year old photojournalist for South Carolina television station WSPA. On Monday, Moore was driving north on I-85 when the spare tire from a pickup truck in front of him took flight. Moore swerved to avoid hitting the tire. flipping the station-owned SUV at least once. According to reports, he remains in serious condition at Spartanburg Regional Medical Center. Though the market he works in is barely a state away, I've never met the man. But I have logged thousands of miles in search of news, battling lane-changing madmen at seventy plus. In this case, Moore's fast reflexes most probably saved his life, though it's hard to know any of that when the truck in front of you starts shedding parts. Here's hoping the good Mr. Moore heals quickly and can soon join the rest of his Carolina colleagues on the ludicrous pursuit that is local news. Get well, Jimmy.. The rest of ya, keep your eyes open...

UPDATE: From b-roll.net...

As of an hour and half ago Jimmy was in his second surgery of the day. He may have one more later today. During the accident his V6 vertebrae slipped above his V4 vertebrae, so the spine is the main concern right now. He does not have feeling from the waist down. The surgeries are an attempt to alleviate the swelling on his spine, and that should help him to regain feel again.

His tests have come back favorable to show that he doesn't have any sort of head trauma, but there is a large gash on his head that will need a surgery to fix it.

Jimmy's wife has said that while she knows he is in pain he isn't complaining about it at all, and is talking, laughing, and cracking jokes.

It's obviously going to be a very long recovery for Jimmy. Everyone at the station as well as his family are asking that you keep him and your thoughts and prayers while he pulls through this, and would like to thank everyone from across the country who have called or written asking about him.

Remembering Joe Loy

Most assignment editors don't enjoy a stellar reputation among us photogs. Why would they? In charge of how we spend our days, they regularly thrust us into the void without so much as a second thought. Why, even the best deskies are forced to endure a relationship with their shooters that is, at best, highly adversarial. Not so with the late Joe Loy. A grandfather, husband and longtime employee of South Carolina's WHNS, Loy sounds like one of those rare newsroom treasures - a guy who could and would do it all, with a name and face his station's most loyal viewers will never even hear of. Until now, that is.

Joe Loy died Monday. Sent to the scene of an interstate accident, this versatile assignment editor parked his news unit on the side of the road and did what many who frequent this site have done hundreds, if not thousands of times. He went to work. Or at least he tried; no sooner had he exited his station car when a red Ford pickup truck reportedly weaving in and out of traffic struck and killed him. Unbelievably, the red pickup never stopped. All of which makes the loss of this kind man all the more incomprehensible to his friends, family and colleagues. I personally had never heard of Joe before his death, but it's obvious to anyone reading about his life, that he deserved a much kinder fate. Rest in Peace.

(If you have any information about the death of Joe Loy, call the South Carolina Highway Patrol in either Greenville at 864-241-1000 or Spartanburg at 864-585-6629.)

Fifty Years In...

From the 'I didn't even think that was possible' file - a Minnesota photog goes the distance, clocking in a staggering fifty years behind the lens. Fifty years! That, my friend, is alot of ribbon cuttings. Just ask Brad Jacobs, who first joined KSTP-TV in 1957 - a full ten years before this humble lenslinger was even born. Since then he's covered the Twin Cities up close, personal and from afar - mastering a mind-boggling progression of technology as generations of ever younger news-gatherers came and went. I'm getting winded just thinking about it! Lauded for both his mad camera skills and industrial-strength resilience, Brad Jacobs is also known for something few photogs ever succesfully pull off: a positive attitude. I could pile on the accolades all day, but you'd do better to head over to KSTP's site and hear from the man himself. Were I in the area, I'd saunter right up to Mr. Jacobs and insist on carrying his tripod, but with only 17 plus years in the bag, I fear I'm Simply. Not. Worthy. Congratulations...Sir.

(For an Australian's take, check out Widescreen...)

Scorchy Tawes, RIP

I knew not of Scorchy Tawes before today, but according to widespread reports, a Master has passed. Consider the evidence: a brush with the lens during World War II, nearly 30 years in the TV trenches, 2,000 stories on the evening news - most centering around everyday folk in the great outdoors. Yes Sir, this Delmarva native with an eye for the poetic and the quirky lived a life well worth remembering. Which is what an awful alot of people on the Eastern Shore are doing - now that Scorchy is gone. From b-roll.net founder Kevin Johnson, who had the honor of working with the local legend early in his career.

"It was an amazing opportunity for a young photog like me to be able to shoot stories with such a storyteller. He taught me how to look and listen. Follow the people and their faces, and you’ll find the story, he explained."

Sage advice from someone who knew. Described as a cross between Robert Frost and Charles Kuralt, C. Norris "Scorchy" Tawes was considered by many as the bard of the Eastern Shore. For more than a quarter of a century at WBOC, he did the finest thing a local television journalist can do: reflect the people and the region that surrounds your station. Tawes did just that and he came to embody his beloved beat. A talented writer, photog and editor who inspired more people than he eventually covered in his long and storied TV career, Scorchy left his impressions on the minds of millions. Not bad for a local fellow who could have very well perished in the Battle of the Bulge. Rest In Peace.

Gordon Davis Killed

My sincerest condolences go out to the family and friends of Gordon Davis - a veteran television photojournalist killed overnight in Upper Marlboro, Maryland. The fifty-one year old news veteran was fatally struck by a car as he was leaving the scene of a strip mall fire around 2:40 a.m. A longtime overnight photog, Davis was known by many and well-regarded by all who came to recognize him at late night emergency scenes in the Washington metro area. He leaves behind a wife and a 14 year old daughter. I didn't know Gordon Davis, but I've met my share of overnight news photogs. Few fostered the kind of reputation Davis apparently did. It is not an easy shift, filled with spot news, dark set-ups and plenty of early morning live shots. That Gordon Davis could perform this arduous task for so long with such obvious aplomb is a testament to his character, and one of the many, many reasons he'll be missed. Go in Peace.

ADDENDUM: From someone who did know Gordon, 'pre-set' from b-roll.net...

He was the only true "overnight" shooter in the market, and he excelled at it. It was almost a relief to see him there.... You knew if Gordon was on it, you weren't missing something bigger. If you didn't see him, you always wondered why he wasn't there, and what else he was covering that you didn't know about....yet. I couldn't even count the times I've spent at some stupid police barricade or house fire or car wreck, standing next to Gordon, bullshitting with him, telling bad jokes (ussually the same ones over and over), complaining about the weather or gossiping about work, and just hanging out waiting on the PIO. He was the epitome of the quiet professional. Always where he needed to be - ussually before you got there, getting the video, and always happy to see a fellow shooter.

I'm gonna miss you, Gordo. But you'll still be with me out there... I promise.

Steve Albert Passes

I didn't know Steve Albert, but when the WPLG photographer died unexpectedly on Wednesday, those who did paid tribute to him on the station's website. The result is a touching portrait of a rare creature - a veteran photog who never let the absurdity of the chase skewer his positive outlook. Steve's co-workers speak of a guy who ate fruit for lunch every day, bragged on his kids to all who would listen and made a habit of never missing a deadline. Those are qualities to admire in any endeavour, but in a business where too many of us let a back-stage pass to life foster apathy and cynicism, it is an anomaly indeed. In my nearly 17 years in the business, I've met damn few veteran lensers who've retained such a radiant disposition (Woody Spencer and Timmy Hawks come to mind). Personally, I fall spectacularly short of that glory - which enables me to recognize a class act when I see it. Steve Albert was apparently just such a person - a trusted pro whose aptitude and attitude made him the very best of our breed. Rest In Peace.

Remembering Altman

Over at the Photog Nation's favorite watering hole, longtime contributor David R. Busse is sharing a treasure. Fourteen years ago, the Los Angeles news photographer went to a West Hollywood hotel for what he thought would be another soulless press junket. Instead, he was treated to a languid lunch with famed director Robert Altman. The legendary filmmaker instantly recognized the veteran photog as a kindred spirit of the lens. Over sandwiches, Altman spoke excitedly of his new film The Player and quizzed Busse on his own background...

We had an all-encompassing lunch conversation about the state of the entertainment industry, our favorite places in the Midwest (his was Michigan, for reasons I can’t recall), and the reasons I liked my job. Altman seemed to “get it” the minute I described a typical day. “No two days alike and you get to be producer, director and DP (Director of Photography) all in one, making little movies for the news...” he said.

Yep.

Read the whole thing, then go rent Nashville.

Ghosts of Suribachi

Joe Rosenthal missed the first flag-raising, but he trudged up Mount Suribachi anyway in hopes of seeing his country's banner fly over the craggy heap of fresh death and smoking metal that was Iwo Jima. When he saw a group of Marines struggling to raise a second flag atop a length of heavy drainage pipe, he brought his trusty Speed Graphic to his face and popped off a few shots. A few minutes later he made his way down to the landing beaches below, unaware he'd just captured an image that would galvanize a nation, solidify the Marine Corps' future and demonstrate the irrefutable power of the frozen image.

It would be days before the diminutive AP photographer would get a look at the spontaneous shot of five Marines and one Navy medic thrusting the flag into Suribachi's crest. By then much of America was already enthralled with the picture, a bloodless symbol of Allied victory over a formidable menace. With the battle still raging on Iwo Jima, Joe could hardly fathom that his photograph would come to symbolize American might, that it would soon be the most reproduced image of its time, that his country's government would seize upon the photo with jingoistic lust, deftly using it to sell War Bonds and help finance the dark days of battle ahead. No, as far as Joe knew, he was just taking pictures.

Of the six men who placed hands on that makeshift flag pole, three were killed in the following days. Rosenthal, who won a Pulitzer Prize for his Iwo Jima shot, would go on to live an unassuming life before dying peacefully at the age of 94. With his passing, so goes another member of the Greatest Generation. But his most famous frame lives on, an instant masterpiece that was used to forge peace, pain and propaganda. In today's 24/7 disposable news-cycle, even an iconic shot as Rosenthal's wouldn't capture the imagination of the masses quite the way it did during World War Two. Within minutes of publication, pundits and gadflies alike would rip apart the image's implications and question the motives of the photog behind the shot. Luckily, that wasn't the case back then and the work of one lone soul with a camera helped change the world for the better. Rest in Peace, Joe Rosenthal.

(For the full story of Rosenthal, Mount Suribachi and 'The Photograph' - read James Bradley's most excellent tome, Flags of our Fathers - soon to be released as a feature film.)

Pining for Fife

Neill Shelton is Angry. You would be too, if your plans of building a statue of Barney Fife had just been lopped off at the knees. For the past couple of months, this Mount Airy native and others have been working furiously to bring a bronze effigy of the bug-eyed deputy to Andy Griffith's hometown. Funds were raised and sketches were drawn, but now a letter from a big city attorney has informed the group they don’t have the rights to recreate the late, great Don Knott’s likeness. The cease and desist order from an overdressed out-of-towner has left the wobbly lawman’s legion of fans positively thunderstruck. When I sat down with Shelton the day after he got the news, he crumpled into the Kountry Kitchen’s corner booth like a broken man.

“It’s such a shame we made so much progress,” he said with the empty stare of a freshly displaced storm victim, “just have it nipped in the bud, so to speak.”

If this lavish devotion to a decades-old sitcom character strikes you as strange, you didn’t grow up in North Carolina - and you damn sure ain’t been to Mayberry. If you had, you’d know the echoes of the Andy Griffith Show still reverberate in the Old North State. Sure, those idyllic and omnipotent episodes represent a simpler time that really never was, but they serve as a comforting touchstone for generations of viewers. Further, this indelible folly is an endless source of pride for many North Carolinians. One person’s scatchy rerun is another’s deeply revered mythology. Me - I’m somewhere in the middle. The age old comedy’s glaring lack of Arfican-Americans always troubled me for a series set so firmly in the South, but then again, who looks for realism in a sitcom anyway? I was just happy to bask in the comedic genius that was young Don Knotts. For that reason alone, I always enjoy the breezy streets of Mount Airy and would stand in line to pause somberly before an emboldened Barney in bronze. Alas, it wasn’t mean to be.

“Who wouldn’t wanna pay tribute to one of the funniest humans ever?” Shelton asks.

Attorneys for the Knotts estate, apparently.

Meeting Hugh Morton

I have to admit I didn't really know who Hugh Morton was when "Roy's Folks" producer David Weatherly introduced me to him eight years ago. At the time I was marveling at a magnificent sunrise over Grandfather Mountain, unaware the kindly gentleman beside me was the man behind the majestic view. He certainly didn't give it away. Instead, he nodded happily as I gushed about the breath-taking blue ridge vista that was, literally, his backyard. With a producer squawking in my earpiece, I soon turned my attention back to my upturned viewfinder, while the rumpled old guy wandered back down the rocky pass - apparenly satsfied the young photog fella manning the live shot camera wasn't going to topple off the mountain.

Later that morning, I ambled through the Grandfather Mountain museum and found myself humbled by what I saw. All along the walls, jaw-dropping photographs hung in testament to the power of the still image. A viaduct winding across a rugged landscape, hummingbirds frozen in flight, a backlit deer posing in a sun-dappled stream - incredibly iconic imagery, all bearing the name of the white haired grandfather I'd barely given the time of day hours before. As one who spends alot of time squinting through a lens, my silent stroll through Hugh Morton's portfolio was an awful lot like going to church. Later, I learned what an effective statesman Hugh Morton was; how he turned a land inheritance into N.C.'s loftiest tourist mecca, how he helped save the USS North Carolina from becoming an artificial reef, how he'd been key in establishing Wilmington's enduring Azalea Festival. In short, Hugh Morton enriched every inch of North Carolina he visited and he created lid-tripping photographs of it all along the way.

Now he's gone, dead at 85 from cancer. What a loss for the state I love. Though his spirit will always drift over the austere blue peaks of Grandfather Mountain, I'm guessing he's now somewhere even higher. Here's hoping he's got his camera with him...

First Responders to the Truth

We stateside photogs like to swagger all right, but none of us cranking out local tripe can hold a dying frezzi to the camera crews who embed themselves with our nation's military. Regardless of your politics, you've probably watched the war in Iraq from the comfort of your couch. Those pictures, whether they vindicate or enrage you, don't appear in your living room by magic. They're wrestled from the muck of war-torn strife with the blood, sweat and tears of the few broadcasters who choose to seek the ultimate access. That doesn't make them heroes; save that for the ones in uniform. They are however, the very best of my battered breed - state-of-the-art journalists, world-class adventurers and first responders to the truth.

From CNN

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- Four people, including a U.S. soldier and two members of a CBS News crew, were killed Monday when a bomb ripped through the U.S. military convoy in which they were traveling. CBS said cameraman Paul Douglas, 48, and sound tech James Brolan, 42, were killed in the blast. Both were British and based in London, the network said.

The U.S. military said a U.S. soldier and an Iraqi contractor also were killed in the attack on their convoy.

Six U.S. soldiers and CBS correspondent Kimberly Dozier were wounded in the attack, the military said.

The attack came as the convoy passed through Tahariyat Square, just across the river from the Green Zone, around 10:30 a.m. Monday (3 a.m. ET).

The convoy victims were among at least 50 people killed in insurgent attacks in Iraq on Monday.

The CBS team -- which was embedded with the 4th Brigade Combat Team, 4th Infantry Division -- was reporting from outside their Humvee and they were believed to have been wearing protective gear when the blast went off, according to CBS.

Dozier, 39, sustained serious injuries and underwent surgery at a U.S. military hospital in Baghdad.

Douglas had risked his life covering international conflicts for CBS since the early 1990s, including Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Rwanda and Bosnia, according to CBS News. He is survived by his wife, two daughters and three grandchildren.

Brolan was a freelancer who worked with CBS News in Baghdad and Afghanistan in the past year. He also shared an award with the network for its coverage of last year's deadly earthquake in Pakistan. He leaves a wife and two children.

UPDATE - CBS News Statement...

Via TV Newser, Background on Paul Douglas:

"The CBS News family lost two gems today. Paul Douglas was one of the finest men I have ever known. He had a smile that could light up a room, a man who got the most out of every minute of life. He made us laugh every time we were with him. Paul started at CBS as a freelance soundman and quickly became one of our finest staff cameramen -- always willing to travel to the most horrible places on earth to do his work -- to shoot his pictures, record his sound and make live television work for all CBS News broadcasts. He was one of those heroes behind the camera -- never wanting the limelight -- only trying to make CBS's foreign news coverage better every day while providing for his wonderful family. And oh that smile!" -- CBS Public Eye

Via TV Newser a message from James Brolan's family:

"The Brolan family would like to thank everybody for their support and help at this time. James was the best dad, the best husband and the best mate to be with in a tight spot out in the field.

He leaves behind two children Sam, 18 and Agatha, 12 and his wife of 20 years Geri. James was born on April 7th 1964 in London where he has lived all his life. He met Geri in August 1984 on leave from the Royal Green Jackets (1983 to 1988) and knew instantly he'd met the woman he was going to marry.

James spent a couple of years after leaving the Army running his own painting and decorating business getting his break in TV as a sound recordist few years later. He travelled extensively round the world always fascinated by the places he visited. His unassuming nature and love of a practical joke often belied his well read, 'university of life intellect' - he always took great pleasure on the road beating his Harvard, Yale or Oxbridge educated correspondents at Scrabble and his knowledge of useless facts was unrivalled!

James had a natural way with people and was always in demand as the person to go with to the world's trouble spots; always putting the locals at ease, winning friends everywhere he went and always putting in his best effort. He will be greatly missed by his friends and family. --Geri, Sam and Agatha