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Columbine Diaries Thoughts on Day 2: April 21 The Denver Rocky Mountain News photographers proved once again why they are the best in the state and probably in the country. They know how to play as a team. No paper in the block could touch their coverage. I returned to the Light of the World Catholic Church in Littleton for more memorials and vigils. The media were cordoned off about 200 feet away from the church and I was glad; it was a somber memorial and I would feel uncomfortable even if I was a mile away with a 3000mm/f16 lens. My friend Jaime and I decided to check out Clement Park, site of the triage area after the shooting. The park was converted into a media nerve center as national and international media swooped in less than 24 hours after the incident. There were photographers from newspapers in Houston, Washington D.C, Los Angeles and Tokyo seeking to milk their post-Monica cash cow. The parking lot was jammed with a convoy of satellite trucks and equipment vans and crews were busy setting up gigantic interview tents that overlooked the memorials. Clinton said it would take three months just to put ground troops in Kosovo. He could probably halve that figure if he put the media in charge of operations. I got to see the dark side of the media at the park. People has to crisscross the great wall of photojournalists to place flowers on the memorial site. My friend told me one mourner had to step over a cameraman. I heard a lady tell her friend she would "scoot by the media" to leave a condolence letter. They had to endure the scrutiny of the nation as they laid flowers and kissed victim Rachel Scott's car. There were no manners when ratings were at stake.
This was my first situation where the world's attention was focused. I was intimidated by all the big guns from Time, Newsweek and US News & World Report. I was frantically trying to capture everything. I was so nervous and excited that I couldn't think and see the photos in front of me until my pulse slowed down a couple of notches and I started to follow my own vision. I realized in a situation like this freelancers must risk everything to find a different shot because the other staffers will still get paid even if they come back with stuff thirty other photographers got. I remember how Mark(who got a shot of the SWAT team evacuating the kids from the school) came up to me yesterday and told me I should have followed the "big boy" as he slowly slapped my cheek repeatedly. The deliberately slapped me softly because he knew the sting of his words were more painful. I saw the local news and wonder how the TV crews seem to be everywhere. They got the shot of a kid dangling upside down from a broken window in the library as two SWAT team members pulled him from the carnage. They captured the footage of kids running away from the school with their hands behind their heads running and that image will always stay in my mind. Amazing. The media outlets were sparing no expense on this one and paying for allengiance. Money was thrown at any photographers who would pitch their photos exclusively to national magazines. A local photographer had 15 calls from media outlets. Mark sent 15 photos to Agence France Press at $150 a photo. He figured he would make about $5000 for two days work. Another photographer was offered $2000 by Time Magazine for eight exclusive photos. The horror of the situation hits you in the quiet moments and you don't quite believe 15 people just died. Feelings of rage, anger, sorrow erupted as I fell asleep that night. I'd agree with the right to bear arms as long as people give up the right to bear bullets and shoot unarmed citizens. Day 3: April 23 God, the last couple of days have been zzzz-less and my emotional EKG readings have been off the charts. I was assigned by a photo agency to keep an eye out on killer Eric Harris' house and photograph(and ordered to follow) anyone who came in or out of the house. The photo agency wanted a shot of any family members. I don't particularly like stalk photography but I brought along my practice pad and got paid to improve my drumming. I met a Columbine student at a convenience store nearby. She said reporters and photographers tied up her phone and invaded her house after they learned she and her brother knew the killers. Killer Eric Harris told her brother to celebrate April 20 by staying home and geting stoned but ge was forced to attend by his mother. The poor kid witnessed his girlfriend get shot. I was staking out the house a couple of days later and saw a TV crew from the "news" program "Extra!". It's easy to tell when the national TV arrives at a scene because they come in the largest vehicle possible. In this case the Suburban assault vehicle. A reverend from a local church was directed to place flowers at the Harris porch five times until they got the right angle. Day 5: 24th There's just so much trauma you can take before you need a break. It's day five and I've already got the three-hundred yard stare. I stayed home yesterday and tended to postponed chores such as seeing "Gone With The Wind" for the first time. I also had my first prepared meal which was a blessing because the gas-station food I was getting used to was worse than most of the stuff at Taco Smell. A lot changed when I returned. The small memorial that had started at Clement Park had swelled to Diana-like proportions. It was truly a site to behold; there were hundreds of flowers, balloons, signs, teddy bears and other memorabilia from visitors from all over the country. The seemingly endless outpouring of sympathy hit a raw nerve. I stopped reading the messages of love and support because it was becoming hard to shoot. The scene at the top of the hill was heartwrenching. More flower, more momentos surrounding a cross erected in memory of the victims. I couldn't feel my toes because of my porous shoes. My motto was to stay ten minutes more than I could possibly bear. I wanted to get something different; I refused to leave until the hill was empty even though the light was dipping below 1/15th second, f2.8 at 200. I finally gave up ten minutes after dusk. We left and were about 500 meters from the cross when we spotted someone raising their arms on the hillside. I could barely see the stick figure in the dark but my instincts kicked in. I pitched my cigarette and started up the hill again. My eyes were focused on the solitary figure on the hillside even as I lost my footing in the deep snow. I felt every step I got closer would allow me to enlarge the photo that much more. I paused at about 100 feet for two frames. The "Chariots of Fire" theme song was racing through my head as I closed in. It was really dark by now and I realized I had ASA 200 film in both cameras. I dropped to the ground about 40 feet from the man and underexposed a couple of frames at 1/20th second at f2.8. My hands raced through my bag in search of some 800 but all I had left were 12 rolls of 100 ASA slide film. I searched my ski jacket and found a fresh roll of 800 ASA. My hands were shaking so much I thought the exposures would be fuzzy. Steve arrived and handed me a monopod. The AF was shut down by the low-light and the focusing ring had jammed up. I painstakingly rotated the jammed focus ring till the focus-confirmation light sprung into action, paying more attention to the focus than the exposure. The man lit a stick of sage and prayed in four different directions. I shot about 17 frames at 1/15th second, f2.8 and 800G pushed one stop. And then it was over. Day 6:Statewide Memorial For The Victims Steve and I decided to cover the statewide memorial service for the victims of the Columbine massacre. Access was limited because Vice President Gore was scheduled to speak so we staked out the area several hours before the event. The first of 70,000 people had already assembled by 9 a.m. The emotional impact escalated as family members of the victims, Columbine High School students and Littleton residents filed into the parking lot of a local movie theater. I patrolled the area for two hours till I decided it was time to hunker down and find a good spot. I snuck through the crowd to the foot of the pool photographer's platform. I climbed half way up the platform and was able to shoot the stage through the legs of a TV cameraman. Los Angeles Times photographer Carolyn Cole and I shared the same spot near the barricades. We noticed several uncredentialed photographers roaming the press platform and tried to secure a couple of shots. We were promptly swatted away by security guards even though we saw uncredentialed photographers with point-n-shoots and Pentax K-1000s. Carolyn and I were frustrated by this misfortune of being in the wrong place. Two Columbine students on their friends' shoulders were pumping their fists and I shot it even though the angle was a lot better from the press platform. I decided to focus our advantages. We were mobile and the photographers on the platform were not.
Event organizers instructed the crowd to simutaneously release thousands of balloons that had been handed out before the service. Releasing the ballons would force people to look up, a change from the downcast mourners. I got a shot of a plane with a sign "Our love and prayers are with you." Technology has really leveled the playing field. Anyone with a laptop, negative scanner and modem can send photos around the world in minutes. We left the memorial early, dropped off our stuff at a 40-minute photo shop and headed back to Boulder. I transmitted eight photos in 45 minutes and once again fell in love with tight deadlines Day 6: 27th Steve and I returned to the hill overlooking Columbine. I switched to chrome and the amazing thing is I started to see in color because I knew it would reproduce the mood of the moment much better than color negative film. The constant stream of mourners at the hill had not diminished. I took time off to put down my camera and the horror of the situation brought tears to my eyes as I stood among the mourners gathered by the cross. I remember how much I just wanted to hug someone. I cried as I remembered the bagpipe player who played "Amazing Grace" from about a mile away two days ago. Suddenly the simplest things took on therapeutic value: looking at the mountains, seeing children at play and petting dogs. I have in my hand a special reporters' notepad that will stay with me for a long time. It is a special diary that started on the 17th of April and ended today. The notes, names and out-of-state numbers trace the amazing events that have unfolded in the last ten days. The name Jeff Medicine Bear recalls a spiritual pow-wow I attended Saturday April 17. I met Gay Lynn Olsen and her daughter Annie Casey at a protest against US involvement in Kosovo. Dancer Ray Maestas, 16, blew me away at the campus International Festival with his breakdancing skills and said his inspiration came from his brother who was murdered several years ago. "When I dance," he said. "I dance for my brother." And then an abrupt shift into the horror-filled week. Nathan and his mother Cindy Montgomery hugging each other at a nearby library at Columbine High School. Pat Whalen's e-mail address at Aurora photo agency after Chris Anderson told me they needed some photos. The address of Leawood Elementary where parents and students were reunited. Student Mary Barbieau who hid in a closet until a SWAT team picked her up. Student Nick Foss who risked his own life to help other students. Ellie Elmore who wiped her tears of sorrow away with rose petals at the vigil for the slain students. And Brianna Archuleta who marched many miles with her classmates from Jefferson Open Schools to lay flowers in Clement Park. I pray for all of them. Day 8: Tue 27th: I got my first regular assignment after an intense week of shooting. It's to shoot in the decompression chamber of daily, humdrum assignments. I was asked to find a quick feature and scoured the downtown mall. It was hard to make a photo from the static crowds enjoying the sun. I found a long line waiting outside Ben & Jerry's icecream store for Free Cone Day. I shot half a roll of a two kids and their mother and I was done. I had come full circle with this cheesy feature. Day 9: Wed 28 There was a huge power outage and I decided to walk down the Pearl St. mall in the rain. Bar patrons had flooded into the streets, there was a huge fight. But I was too busy enjoying the darkness. Day 10: Another Tragedy Averted(Thu April 29, 1999) I didn't take a photo and I feel clean enough to sleep tonight. Someone told me I had the knack of being at the right place when things went haywire. They were right. I was shooting a Community Access TV special on what students thought on the Columbine massacre. A trio of sixth graders were put on stage and recounted their feelings on the tragedy. I was on the left, shooting at a low angle with my 20-35mm when I saw one of the students took a step back as she answered the interviewer's question. I shot two frames and heard a hugh thud. I took my eye off the camear She had fainted and slammed her head on the concrete. She fell like a domino. On the ground she kept on answering. There was a moment when everyone in the room had their hands on their mouths. But I couldn't shoot out of respect. Would you have? What if the girl was seriously hurt and it became news? Would you still shoot it? Somehow a miracle occurred and the girl was tip-top. She had landed on concrete and was saved by her huge bun. Thank God. May 1: NRA PROTEST: My friend Tom wanted to shoot a protest against the National Rifle Association convention in Denver. We arrived a little late. There was no space near the podium so I decided to find something different. I stood and faced the crowd for less than a minute when I noticed a guy who was holding a pro-NRA sign that read, "Hitler would love this crowd. Hitler was anti-gun also." Less than 20 seconds later someone ambushed the man, pushed him to the ground and punched him. I shot a couple of wide-angles and raced down the stairs as the police converged on him. It was ironic an NRA guy was hit during an anti-violence protest. Four cops grabbed the man as he struggled to fend them off. I was busy shooting when I heard one of the speakers on the microphone say "Shame on the media" for focusing on the fight. I cringed as the crowd of about 7,000 applauded. I was the only photographer in those crucial seconds. I felt bad because the public wants to bite the hand that feeds them. They needed the media coverage and despised it simutaneously. I mean, how did they know about this protest?
I found Rudy Gonzales from the Rocky Mountain News and I captioned and scanned at the paper. I prayed that I would get one photo in the Rocky before I left. My prayer was not answered. May 2 Sunday: Elway Retires My friend pointed out what a strange two days it's been. He got to photograph Charlton Heston, a Star Wars convention, Columbine high school and now the Elway. Times like this, I realize what a privilege it is to be a photographer. I was less than 30 feet away from Elway as he held back tears. I also learned that I should think about what might be happening in the future. One cannot play chess if one cannot look two-six moves ahead. I was so busy trying to get a closeup shot of Elway that I wasn't prepared when he left the podium and kissed his wife. I raced to the scene and Hail Mary'ed a shot. For more about the Coverage, see a special multimedia feature produced by Behind the Viewfinder and The Digital Journalist:
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James
Keivom
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Contributor
since 1998
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Behind
the Viewfinder - A Year in the Life of Photojournalism |
