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July 24, 1998
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The big news story in the beginning of the week in northern California
was the train coming through the area carrying spent nuclear fuel
to a storage place in Idaho. The authorities, of course, wanted
to keep the lid on this as much as possible, because they didn’t
want any kind of terrorist activity or bad press. Therefore, they
started their trek through northern California in the dead of night.
I got the call at 1:44AM. I had asked the group who was going to
be protesting to call me when they knew when the train was coming
through the area. At that time it had just left Martinez, its starting
point. I had gotten in an hour earlier after seeing a movie with
a bunch of friends, and was just about to fall asleep. But I got
up, gathered my gear together, and headed out the door with a map
under my arm, pen in my mouth, and camera over each shoulder.
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I had no guarantee of selling the photos I was about to take. I
figured if I couldn’t get anyone to buy them, then I would just
chalk it up to experience. Fortunately, I am still young enough
to justify just about anything to experience. It was summer, I didn’t
have any commitments the next day, so I figured why not give it
a shot.
I was the first media person there, around 2:30am. But as time
progressed, just about every TV station in town sent someone, a
Sacramento Bee photographer and reporter was there, a radio station
reporter, and me. The good news for me was that the AP was not there,
meaning the papers who wanted pictures would have but them from
me, the only freelance person there. Unless, of course, the AP picked
up the photos from the Bee.
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train. I needed to conserve myself and my film and batteries for when
the train came. We had about a 5 minutes notice, as the helicopter
escort flew over first, scouting the area. Soon we saw lights rounding
the bend in the tracks, and suddenly everyone was jostling for position.
I had never been part of a media pack like this, and certainly not
in the middle of the night. Somehow I held my ground, and started
firing away. I had about two seconds to get the picture of the train
and protesters. An hour and a half had boiled down to just two seconds.
I had four frames with the train in them. |
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I hurried home, and got to sleep that night at 4am. The next day,
still tired after about four hours of sleep, I started calling newspapers.
I found one who wanted the pictures, the Marysville Appeal-Democrat,
and they asked me my price. I probably could have gotten more for
them, because they didn’t balk whatsoever at the price that I gave
them. I sent the picture to them over e-mail and they were happy,
and so was I. The AP, as it turns out, didn’t have any photos of
the train. The risk paid off.
July 24, 1998
Joe Jaszewski
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Barbara
Wieder, of Grandmothers for Peace, watches in worry as a Southern
Pacific train carrying spent nuclear fuel rumbles past a group of
protesters gathered in Sacramento around 3:00AM on Wednesday, July
22, 1998.
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