Monthly Archives: June 2011

by Al Golub

Acorn Fire with the Stanislaus Hotshots 1987

The Acorn Fire was well on its way to burning out 26 homes near Markleeville when I got a phone call from a forest service dispatcher telling me that the Stanislaus Hotshots had left Mi-Wuk Village on their way to the fire.  It was about 2:00 p.m. on Thursday, July 30, 1987.  By the time I got reporter Michael Winters it was dark as we headed up Highway 4 toward Markleeville.  In addition to the darkness, I didn’t have the correct radio frequency so we headed to fire camp in Minden, Nevada to locate the crew.  After some confusing exchanges with the incident command team, we found out the Stan Shot crew had been doing some freelance burnouts and were coming back in to eat and get an assignment for the next day.

The next morning, we went with the crew into the Toiyabe National Forest.  We were at about 5,800 feet elevation when we got out of the crew buggy.  This is where Sup 20 Greg “Rax” Overacker took over.  Rax took command of a strike team of shot crews and instructed us to climb up a 1700 foot ridge to start cutting fire line.  I got my best image of sawyer Kevin Wallin hiking up the ridge at about 6,500 feet.

It all started with this photograph I took the year before.  Early June 1986, Bob White, the Sonora Bureau reporter for The Bee, and I did a story on the Stanislaus Hotshots getting ready for the fire season.  The Stan Shots were based at Mi-Wuk Village.  In his office, I asked Overacker what was the difference between his crew and a regular crew.  He said it was how much fire line they could cut per hour.  So we headed to a very steep hillside near Tuolumne City and they started cutting a firebreak.  I ran uphill on the other side of the road and shot this image with my 300mm lens.  Then I ran up and down the firebreak while the crew was cutting.  I didn’t know that Racks and the crew were impressed that I hustled around to make a good image.  To me this was normal.

After my promotion to Chief Photographer in 1980, I inherited the intern program.  As part of briefing interns I would require them to a make a list of assignment ideas that they might want to make a special project during their internship.  I would always offer the idea of spending time with a wildland fire crew and going with the crew to a fire.  Fast forward to 1987 and Bob White is an assistant metro editor.  Bob talked the Forest Service and Greg Overacker into the great idea of me doing a story on the Stanislaus Hotshots.

Half way up the ridge firefighter Turpin from Coulterville takes a moment out of the smoke and blaze before hiking to the top of the 7,600 foot ridge.

I witnessed the Incident Command System (ICS) first hand.  By the time we reached the location to cut fire line, Rax was supervising the air attack.  One of the Stanislaus Hotshot fire captains was the Division chief and the other was the Strike Team leader.  The squad bosses were running the crew.  Each promotion earned the firefighter an increase in pay and was noted on their time cards.

Sup 20 talked to an air tanker and the next thing I knew we had pink dots all over us.

Firefighters cutting a fire line before the active head of the fire got to their position.

The first night we ate at fire camp in Minden, Nevada, and slept in sleeping bags on the open ground.

Members of the Hotshot crew listen to what Overacker had planned for the next day.

Rax observing fire while he was Air Attack Chief. The ICS is lined out in the Fireline Handbook.  I learned so much from this experience.  Unknowable at the time was the fact that there would be another fire in 1987 during which I would put my newly acquired knowledge to use.

I was surprised that after breathing smoke all day a crewmember would want to smoke a cigar.

Crew picture before we headed out for dinner.

Sacramento Bee photographer Dick Schmidt photographed me at the bottom of the hill before we headed up.  He was surprised to see me and had tons of questions, but I had to go.  Thanks, Dick, for sending me this transparency.

 

 

 

 

 

by Al Golub

Muhammad Ali visits Modesto, California 1971

 

When I heard that Muhammad Ali was going to speak in Modesto, I immediately started asking Darell Phillips, the Modesto Bee’s Sports Editor, to give me the assignment.  It wasn’t until the next day that I checked the photo schedule and saw I was on nights that week, so the assignment would be mine anyway.  Lesson learned; check schedule before asking about any assignment.   Photoshelter

I identified with Ali as a peer, not only because he is only eight months older than I am, but also because his controversial, witty, and wild statements were compatible with my own outspokenness.  I loved his bodaciousness.

My father loved boxing.  I learned to love it too, not quite at his knee, but when I was pretty young.  Dad and I both liked Ali from his early years when he was still known as Cassius Clay.  My dad had some doubts about him when he renamed himself Muhammad Ali, but his enthusiasm for Ali’s boxing style never waned.

As for my own attitude, I admired Ali’s courage and determination in sticking to his convictions.  When he joined Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam, I was a little concerned, so it was reassuring to me when he joined a Sunni Muslim mosque in 1975.  I respected his stance on the Vietnam War and the use of the draft during those years, even though I had served four years (and eight days) in the U.S. Air Force and would have served in Vietnam if called.

To say Ali was entertaining during the press conference would be an understatement.  He disarmed the more conservative and critical reporters with quick, clever answers.  When asked about fighting George Foreman, the reigning heavyweight champ, Ali responded, “He ain’t in my class.  Foreman fighting me would be like putting him in Vietnam with a B-B gun.”

Darell and I got to spend some down time with Ali in a motor home when he was a little more laid back.  In that more private setting, he was straightforward and honest without any hype.  He talked a lot about being a role model for others and working to get his career back on track.

When we arrived at the SOS, Tom Mellis gave Ali a whirlwind tour of the Sportsmen of Stanislaus Club.  While they were looking at the Olympic-sized swimming pool, Ali said to Tom, “this place is so nice, I think I will build me one.”  I chuckled under my breath, but I don’t think Tom got the joke.

Ali listened carefully to the reporters’ questions, but didn’t always answer them in a serious way.  He put on his bigger-than-life persona just like putting up his guard in a fight.  In this image, he appears to drop his guard just as he would do in the ring to see if someone would take a wild swing or, in this setting, ask an easy question, so he could counterpunch with a quoteworthy response.

During the tour, he checked out the piano and the pool table.  He seemed really familiar with the pool table.  During a receiving line with bigwigs like Julio Gallo, he just changed the subject every time something serious was asked.

On the subject of his March 1971 boxing opponent, Joe Frazier, to whom he had lost one fight by decision Ali said, “Man he hits hard, so hard.  He hit me so hard in the fifteenth, my kinfolk back in Africa felt it.”  A few years later, Ali would turn the tables, beating Frazier in two fights in two years.

Mel Williams, a community leader, contacted Ali and got him to visit the Modesto African-American community.  Mel got the word out with only a couple hours notice.  As Ali walked into the King-Kennedy Community Center, several hundred people swarmed around him.

In the Center’s multipurpose room he signed autographs and hugged babies.  Young and old alike, everybody wanted to touch the champ.  He didn’t have to say much, just his presence made the crowd happy.

Rev. Monroe Taylor, Director of the King-Kennedy Community Center, watches as Ali signs an autograph.  Mel Williams is standing in the back.  The Center, built with funds from the city and a federal antipoverty program, was barely two years old at the time.    Photoshelter

 

by Al Golub

John V. Tunney California Senatorial Campaign 1970

Last week I blogged my 1968 experience with national politics and campaign trains in my blog “Robert F. Kennedy 1968.”  A little more than two years later, I got the opportunity to put into action what I had learned when I was given the assignment to cover 1970 U.S. Senatorial candidate John V. Tunney.   The press arrangements required reporter Fred Youmans and me to meet the train twelve miles south of Modesto in Turlock.  We identified ourselves to Tunney’s campaign staff and security and got on board the historic observation car known as the “El Dorado” — built in 1924 by Union Pacific and previously used by President Franklin D Roosevelt.  I quickly got to work photographing candidate Tunney and actor Burt Lancaster.  All too soon, we were in Modesto.  Photoshelter The minute I jumped off the “El Dorado,” I hurried to get close under the observation deck.  Tunney was rousing the crowd with a rip-roaring speech and they were responding with enthusiastic cheers. Tunney’s security guards were out in force because there were demonstrators from opponent Senator George Murphy’s campaign.  For me, the guards were easy to deal with because I followed their rules and checked in with Tunney’s staff on the train.

While on the ground, I used my newly acquired Nikkor 20mm f3.5 lens to get good images from the east side of the train.

Burt Lancaster, 1960 Oscar winner for “Elmer Gantry” and politically-ahead-of-his-time Hollywood star, was easy to photograph in the “El Dorado.”  I also spotted Rafer Johnson in the “El Dorado” but didn’t get to photograph him before I had to go. (for more on Rafer Johnson, see last week’s blog “Robert F. Kennedy 1968.”)

Before I left the “El Dorado,” I got a chance to shoot behind the candidate.  This 105mm shot into the audience shows the face of Stanislaus County in 1970.

Took this basic talking head shot of Tunney talking to Fred Youmans.  You should always shoot lots of portraits and talking head images.  These images or mugs always become more important later.

I jumped up on the step below the observation deck and held on with one hand while photographing the crowd with the other.

The protesters and the supporters seem to be having a little pushing match with their campaign signs.

By the time I got over to the west side of the train, Burt Lancaster was speaking.  According to the briefing, this meant the train was going to pull out of the station soon.

While I was behind Tunney on the observation deck, I used the old hands-over-my-head with the 20mm to make this image.

As planned, Ted Benson picked me up at the train station and gave me a ride south to Turlock to pick up my car.  This image was taken a couple years later of the two of us walking together after a similar campaign event.  Can’t remember who gave us this transparency.  The photographer documented our appearance.  Need I say more?

 

 

by Al Golub

Robert F. Kennedy 1968

In March of 1968 I had been on the Modesto Bee photo staff just under two years and had long since earned my stripes with the editors and photographers, so I was given my first big assignment of national importance: to photograph Robert F. Kennedy at the Senate Hearings in Stockton, California.  As a lifelong Democrat, getting to photograph RFK was a dream comes true. The Photo Assignment appeared simple and straightforward, “Old Stockton High School Auditorium, Stockton, Senate Hearings, Robert Kennedy, 1:00 p.m.”  Chuck Rodgers, the chief photographer at the time, called out to me with a big grin as I went out the door, “Screw on your objectivity glasses!”  I knew what he meant.

I arrived at the school an hour early and was greeted by some of my fellow photojournalist friends who asked me, “Why weren’t you on the tour?”  There was a tour?  I didn’t know about any tour.  They quickly informed me that since the hearing was about poverty in America, RFK had taken a tour into Stockton’s poorest areas for several hours that morning.  One of the more blowhard photographers gloated about the great photos he got, as Bobby talked one-on-one with kids.  Immediately, I realized the missed chance to get great classic images of Bobby in the midst of real poverty and real people in the Delta.

This first lesson was one of those hard experiences that have made me a better photojournalist.  I never again left so much to the assignment editor.  When I finally talked to him later that day, I found out that his priorities were different from mine.  He knew about the tour but dismissed it because he didn’t think it would contribute to the written piece he planned (even though it would have).  From that point forward, I did my own research so I wouldn’t miss a morning tour or whatever extras might enrich an assignment beyond what the assigning editor had envisioned.  I also learned that it was essential to discuss with my editors what factors they believed were visually important to a story—not only so that I would capture the images they wanted, but also so that I could anticipate what they had overlooked.

This image of Bobby is my favorite.  Using a clunky Nikkor 300mm f4.0, wide open at 1/60th of a second, I squeezed off a handful of images from the press area.  To see my images on Photoshelter click here.

Before the hearing, a good-sized group surrounded RFK and greeted him with smiles and outreached hands.

This image was taken from stage left on the steps leading to backstage.  I went through a side door that I calculated would get me backstage.  This is where Rafer Johnson, 1960 Olympic gold medalist in the decathlon and RFK bodyguard, taught me the second lesson of the day by knocking me into the stage rigging as he demanded, “Where is your pin?”  He then explained the credentialing process as I apologized.  He said he would have hit me harder if he had really thought I was a threat.  It was a memorable introduction to the importance of credentialing.

The crowd was cheerful and excited except for this nun who caught my eye.  She started crying when Bobby came close.

I haven’t done much with these portraits of RFK.  At the time, the Modesto Bee ran only the photo of the crowd greeting him as he arrived at the school.

Members of the Mexican American Political Association greet the Senator on his arrival at Stagg High School.

Stagg students get their chance to shake Kennedy’s hand.

By May of 1968, Robert F. Kennedy had declared his candidacy for the presidency and was in the thick of the California primary.  On May 30, 1968, Kennedy and his wife were traveling up the Central Valley on a train doing whistle stop campaign speeches.  AP and the bigger papers were on the train the full trip, but we were told a photographer and reporter could get on the train in Turlock and ride as far as Modesto.  I wanted that assignment, but it went to Chuck, the chief photographer.  I would be on the ground at the rail station in Modesto.  So I set out to make the best images from the vantage point I was given.  At first I was disappointed that the Los Angeles AP photographer was in my frame, but now I like the whole feeling of a hectic campaign stop.

The train arrived in Modesto late in the afternoon and most of the activities were in the backlight.  Golub’s Corollary to Murphy’s Law states that the best possible image comes in the worst possible light.  I knew before I got there that I wanted to shoot from the left, from the right, and from the center.  I was so inexperienced I didn’t know that capturing all these angles should be standard.  Photographers often take too many shots from one side because crowds can be difficult.  This crowd certainly turned out to be hard to move through, but I stuck to my plan.  First, I worked my way to the East side of the observation deck and got as close as possible to the candidate.  Next, I pulled back and cut a path to the other side where I saw Ethel Kennedy waving to the crowd.  Finally, as the train pulled out of the station I moved to the rear of the crowd and got images of the spectators and candidate’s party as they left.

Ethel Kennedy waving to the spectators with full sun on her.

My back-up camera was my Rolieflex twin lens reflex, so I used it to get all of the images of the crowd as the train left the station.

I learned a lot from these two assignments, although it was also clear that at the age of 25 I still had more to learn.