The Atlanta Constitution,
Sunday, 16th November 1913,
PAGE 8, COLUMN 3.
Declares
Contractors Have No
Right to Use the Streets
of Atlanta.
Mayor James G. Woodward has vetoed the
resolution passed up by council at its last meeting authorizing the Calhoun
estate to erect a fence in the street at the corner of Broad and Alabama
streets.
At a former meeting of council a
similar permit was rejected, and the mayor ordered Chief of Police Beavers to
notify the contractors to move the fence back to the sidewalk.
The streets and sidewalks belong to
the people, and the city council has no authority under the law to allow
contractors or any individual to use any part of the thoroughfares for private
purposes, Mayor Woodward said Saturday, commenting on his action.
I consider the crossing at Broad and
Alabama streets to be the most dangerous in the city, especially so now that
Whitehall Street has been partly torn up and vehicles forced to use Broad and
Forsyth streets.
The mayors message to council is as
follows:
I return to you without my approval
the resolution passed at your last session, giving a permit to build a fence in
the street at the corner of Alabama and Broad streets. At a former meeting of
your body, you rejected this same request. This possibly is the most dangerous
corner in the city of Atlanta.
We have at the present time a joint
committee appointed from the chamber of commerce and the general council
looking into the matter of street congestion. The central parts of the city are
very much crowded with the ordinary business of the city. While it has been, in
the past, the policy of the city to allow owners and contractors to build these
fences and obstructing the general passageway of the public, the city of Atlanta
has arrived at that point in its progress that it can no longer grant such
permits in our central congested business streets. Many other cities other than
Atlanta, yet with their streets no more congested than ours, do not permit such
obstructions. The corner of Broad and Alabama streets, as I say, is one of the
most congested and dangerous corners in the city, made so by the great number
of street cars at that corner and the large amount of vehicles and ordinary
street traffic taking that direction in order to avoid the Whitehall street
viaduct.
I am firm of the opinion that the
general council should grant no more permits for blockading the streets through
the business and congested sections. Besides, I thoroughly believe that all
such permits are illegal. I do not believe that the city authorities have power
to blockade the street or any part of a street. The streets are public highways
and every person has the right to such streets and no one has the right to
impede travel through such thoroughfares. I am thoroughly convinced that
Atlanta has got to cease giving such permits and there is no better time than
the present to make that beginning.
Aside from the reasons given, I am
convinced that the action of your general body is illegal from the fact that
you are attempting to set aside an ordinance of the city by resolution. While I
do not wish to appear in any way as attempting to retard any kind of
improvement, I am thoroughly satisfied that this action is the proper course in
this matter.
PAGE 12, COLUMN 1
ATLANTA
SNAPSHOTTERS CARE NOT WHAT BECOME OF
THEM IF THEY
GET THE PICTURE--THE PHOTOS THE THING
By Britt Craig.
Its no childs play, this business of illustrating the days
news.
For instance, take a look at Francis
Ebenezer Prince a-top the Healey building in position to which the city editor
evidently assigned him in the fond hope that he would fall. Nobody, it seems
loves a newspaper photographer but himself. Not even vengeful city editors, who
couldnt get out their papers without them.
Then, take a slant at Francis Eben
doing a Beachey on a bail and chain above a skeletonized skyscraper. No, dont
think what I know youre about to think. This honestly is Kid Prices first
experience with a chain and ball. He vows that it is the first time he has ever
been associated with such adornment.
See the flame and brimstone Brother
Price had to endure in order to get a newsy fire fighting picture. When this
particular picture was turned in to the city editor, the c. e. turned a merciless
eye on the photographer:
Why didnt you get the faces of the
firemen? he asked. Theres no news in the rear exposure of a herd of
firemen.
WHAT HE
IS
HIRED
FOR.
Dyou expect me to step over in the
fire and do it? queried the photographer.
Certainly. Thats what youre hired
for.
And thats the sentiment of every city
editor in the country. If photographers did all their editors expected of them
there would be fewer photographers and more corpses.
See that picture wherein the two ladies
are concealing their coveted features with fans! Well, thats a situation the
newspaper photographer encounters in every work day. That day isnt normal when
the camera man fails to meet antagonism from the fair sex.
Certainly they dont want their pictures
taken by an ordinary newspaper photographer who cant touch up the plate and
take out the wrinkles and moles and insert a dimple. They wouldnt mind,
however, if it was for the society page.
But in connection with news, never!
The very idea!
Likewise
The nerve of some people!
Scan the collection of choice mugs
behind the battery of cameras in the illustration. These men covered the Frank
trial for the three Atlanta papers, pestering unwilling witnesses and making
life unbearable for persons who happened to stumble into the limelight along
about that particular time.
A
SUGGESTION
TO
WILSON.
That picture is of a gang you could
stack against the whole of Mexico, Huerta and the rebels combined, and depend
upon Mexico hoisting the white flag in a hurry. You dont have to take any
single somebodys word for it. Ask the witnesses and folks connected with the
Frank trial.
Ask Daisy Grace. Ask Grace.
Ask Mrs. Applebaum. Ask Frank.
Ask anybody who has ever been of public
note.
Note the fighting expressions. Thats
their job, fighting. Fighting for pictures, fighting each other, fighting for
all they got and failing many, many times to get all they fight for. Its all
in a days work.
Happy-go-lucky sort of fellows,
carefree, dauntless, unappreciated, theyre the real men behind the guns.
Theyre read adventurers of life, and every day with them is a drama, a copious
adventure.
This morning they hobnob with stars in
the social constellation. Tonight they go into the submerged tenth to mingle
with the groveling snipes of the under strata. They see and know every phase of
human nature, they are adaptable to any situation.
However, this isnt intended to be a
treatise on the newspaper photographer. My admiration for the profession is
driving me astray from the orders given by the Sunday editor, who would take
pains to walk around the corner to avoid a treatise on anything from politics
to dyspepsia.
Personal vanity is one of the
photographers most effective assets. Not good that he himself is afflicted
with it. Did you ever see a sartorial model behind a news camera? No, neither
did anybody else. Its the vanity of his victim on which he banks.
SNAPSHOTTING
THE
SHARPSHOOTER.
One little instance:
Not so
very long ago, there photographers from three Atlanta
papers went on all out-of-town assignment to photograph a woman had gained wide
distinction for marksmanship through the somewhat difficult feat of putting six
bullets within the space of an inch into the anatomy of her husband.
She was in jail. The town was considerable distance from
Atlanta. The photographers arrived at 5 a. m. The only train on which their
plates could be shipped to Atlanta in time for press was one which passed at
9:35 a. m. They were confronted by a situation which demanded instant action.
It would have been possible to obtain snapshots for the
pretty prisoner as she left the jail at 10 oclock on her way to commitment
trial, but this would be too late. The only plan was to obtain posed pictures
in jail. A note was sent to the prisoner. She POSITIVELY refused, which the
camera men expected.
A caucus was held. It ended in this:
First
A note from Photographer No. 1:
My paper has a picture of you, but it does not to you
justice. A good many wrinkles show, and the eyes are blurred. I have orders
send in a picture. If I do not get a good photograph, I will be forced to use
this bad one.
Then this from No. 2:
The only picture I have of you is one that was taken in
1890. I am sure you do not want it published, which will be done unless I get a
good picture.
Which was followed by this from No. 3:
My paper is in possession of a picture of you in a kimono. I
am sure you would not wish it to appear in print, which will be done if I do
not get a good likeness of you.
PLAY ON
HER PRIDE,
YOU PLAY
THE ACE.
Result:
The prisoner requests an audience of the newspaper men, the
outcome of a contest of feminine obstinance against a knowledge of human
weakness.
Were there any such things as the bad pictures? Certainly
not! But the prisoner wasnt taking chances. The photographers knew she
wouldnt.
To balk at an assignment of any nature, no matter how
difficult or prospectless, means the professional death of the newspaper
photographer. It was during the Appelbaum murder case that the Atlanta men
fought so hard for pictures of Mrs. Callie Scott Appelbaum, central figure in
the noted Appelbaum murder mystery.
Mrs. Appelbaum always went heavily veiled, guarding against
the battery of cameras she invariably faced whenever appearing outside her cell.
Every conceivable effort had been made to obtain a, likeness of her. She had
always managed to thwart the newspaper men. Even an artist, who had smuggled
himself into her cell under the guise of an architect who was supposed to be
drawing plans for reconstruction of the room, found her face covered with a
newspaper the moment he came into her presence.
For days the newspapers went without picture, of the woman.
Finally, in desperation, the city editor of a local paper order one of his
staff photographers to get a picture of Mrs. Appelbaum under any circumstances.
Simultaneously, the city editors of each paper gave the same order to their
staff men. It was the day the prisoner went to the undertaking establishment
for a last glance at the body of the victim.
OFTEN
THEIR ZEAL
IS
MISGUIDED.
She went, as usual, thickly veiled. Two photographers
secreted themselves in an ante-room of the morgue in which the body lay. Their
presence was unknown by anyone connected with the establishment. She moved into
the dimly lighted morgue on the arm of Deputy Sheriff Plennie Miner.
As she kneeled beside the body, she lifted the veil to kiss
the brow of the man of whose murder she was suspected. As her lips touched the
skin, there was blinding flash, followed by the sound of scurrying feet as the
photographer fled from the ante-room Mrs. Appelbaum reeled, instinctively
snatching the veil over her face.
She arose and staggered into the arms of the deputy sheriff,
who had jumped for the door at which the flash had flared. As the woman fell
into Minors arms, the second photographer, who had failed to make to an
exposure, realized the intense value of the situation, and exploded his flash
machine. His camera caught the woman reeling into the deputys arms.
The identity of these two photographers
is an unsolved mystery. The pictures, however, went unpublished. It was cruelly
enterprising, but a feat that deserve a certain kind of hitherto unanalyzed
laudation, and one which none but a newspaper photographer would have undertaken.
The photographers quick wit is one of
his saying graces and an invaluable asset. His swift comprehension of a
situation and instant perception of news values border on genius. A snappy news
picture in this day of modern journalism is far more worthy than a news story.
THE
PHOTOS
THE
THING.
Francis Price, during the famous fire of the Brandon livery
stables on Marietta street in 1910, was standing beneath the quivering brick
wall of the wrecked building, napping action pictures of the huge water tower,
which had only recently been acquired by the fire department.
Suddenly he wall, with a tremendous groan, began to crumble.
A shout went up from the crowd. Men scurried in all directions, firemen
deserted their nozzles in flight for safety. Price stood in dire peril.
Wheeling around, apparently oblivious to danger, he focused his machine and
snapped at the wavering mess of brick and mortar. He had barely darted from
beneath when the wall crashed to the ground.
All sense of peril seems to desert the good camera man in his
zeal for newsy pictures. It is a kind of instinct that is imbued within him,
born of the haranguing of city editors, the love of his work, professional
pride and the love of good results from a good situation. Where sense of danger
is absent, there is an especial providence, it seems, that guides and protects
like the guiding instinct that drives a bird from poisonous herb.
Have you ever heard of a newspaper
photographer meeting death in performance of duty? They die, some do, in dire
circumstancesfor, as I wrote a few paragraphs back, they are, for the most
part, an unappreciated lotbut never on the job. Fate, it has been said, is
partial to the courageous. And courage, some contend, is nothing more than a
sort of obliviousness to danger.
It was an Atlanta photographer who
probably gave President Wilson his greatest scare in a situation outside of
presidential affairs and political situations. It was only a few Sundays ago
that the president passed through Atlanta on his way to mobile.
A request had been sent ahead that no
newspaper men or photographers be allowed at the tracks over which the
presidents care was to pass. Wilson, arriving in Atlanta, felt assured that he
would not be annoyed by flashlights or questions that would border on anything
from Mesic conditions to his menu for lunch.
While he stood on the observation
platform of his car shaking hands with the crowd, two camera men erected their
machines on the outer edge of the throng.
They were unobserved by the president.
Suddenly, an unusually heavy charge of flashlight powder was exploded. It
resembled the report of a gun. Wilson jumped back, frightened. Catching sight
of the photographer, he leveled a warning finger, saying:
Dont do that again.
The second photographer, sensing the
situation, took immediate advantage. His flash was exploded just as a secret
service man bowled over the camera of the first photographer. The exposure
caught Wilson in the unusual attitude and the secret service man
Contin
ued on Next Page.
PAGE 17, COLUMN 6
in action.
It was remarkable picture, and worth a goodly price.
NOT HALF-BAD
REPORTER
WHOLLY ROTTEN!
Then, there are other situations beside
those of a photographic nature to which the newspaper photographer must be
equal. Not infrequently are they called upon to cover news stories on which
their papers have not put reporters. This generally happens on out-of-town
assignments.
One instance of this kind I recall
during the Godbee trial at Millen. A paper which was covering the trial with a
special man from Savannah, found Savannah, found their correspondent absent
from Millen on the day of the verdict. One of the papers staff photographers
was in Millen. He was ordered by wire to cover the verdict. He answered that,
insomuch as his labors had been confined to photography, he wasnt sufficiently
versed in the art of reporting to competently report the case.
Another wire was sent him:
Write the story just as you would
write a letter home.
His story, put on the wire a few
minutes later, was in this form, more or less:
Dear Herald: This is a bum town. I
need more money for expenses. You neednt expect much story because Im not
intimate with a typewriter. Things look mighty blue for Mrs. Godbee. The
verdict was guilty. Yours respectfully,
FRED.
Later, another
telegram came from his office:
Describe the
scenes in the courtroom when the verdict was delivered. What did Mrs. Godbee
do?
It received
this reply:
There wasnt
any scenery. This trial was held in a courthouse. Mrs. Godbee went to jail.
Still another.
This one desperate.
Did Mrs.
Godbee cry, cuss or faint? Surely, she did something. Rush copy.
Reply:
Shes too old
to cry. She dont look to me like a fainting woman. Women dont cuss in small
towns.
With the result
that the paper depended upon the A. P. for description and the peculiar antics
of the prisoner at the time of verdict. However, photographers have enough to
do in illustrating the news of the day without dabbling in reporting.
Therefore, the hapless camera man received no censure from his office, which is
uncommon in newspaper shops. Censuring is one of the most popular pastimes with
the news executive.
WHEN THEY
ARE
SNAPPED
AWAY.
There surely must be some Happy Hunting
Ground for the newspaper photographers hereafter, some Elysia where there are
no such things as obstinate persons who shield their faces and run from the
camera. Where the city editor is a kind and loving soul who praises and never roasts.
Where salaries are in proportion to energy and ability and the pink slip is
unknown.
That portion of the public that daily
finds itself in the center of unpleasant limelight, consigns the news
photographer to every doom from Hell, Hull to Halifax, and, if there were no
criminal laws, would doubtless homicidally accomplish that consignment. The S.
R. O sign would stand at the entrance of Hades if every photographer complied
with the wishes of victims of the days news.
However, when all is said and done, and
the final records have been totaled, there is no other professional who
deserves a happier Happy Hunting Ground.
PAGE 14, COLUMN 4
BILL OF
EXCEPTIONS
IS FILED IN COURT
Frank
Case Is Now Formally
Before Highest Tribunal.
Argument in
December.
With the filling in the supreme court
Saturday of the bill of exceptions in the Frank case properly certified, all
doubt was removed that the case will be argued on or about December 15.
Arguments in the case may be made both
orally and by brief and it is probable that counsel will make use of both the
written and spoken forms of argument. While the case will be set on the several
days after that before it is reached.
After the case has once been argued,
the court will have until the opening of the second succeeding term, which
begins next October, in which to decide it. It is not believed, however, that
it will take anything like that much time and a decision may be expected the
latter part of February or the first of March.