Photojournalist - Lara Hartley - Behind the Viewfinder

April 18, 1998

There are weeks and then there are WEEKS. When your mortality jumps up and smacks you in the face and when the photo goddess lets you know just who is really in charge.

Recently there was such a week.

Cockiness equals dumbness. And about twice a year I seem to have to relearn that lesson.

Sunday: After following the police chase on my day off I blew the picture. It wasn't a going to be a great pic but we had arrived at the scene in time for me to photograph the deputy sheriff loading the bad guy into the back of the patrol car.

Only I got out of car without checking the camera settings because of the little tiff with Traveling Companion. The camera was still set on manual from the Miss Barstow pageant the night before (I kid you not), which meant I was shooting at 2.8 ( wide-open) at 1/250 with the ISO on the digital camera set at 400....on a bright sunny day. Needless to say the images were totally blown away . Nothing there. Nothing to show for it. ^&*&_)*_^%!!***% Plus my choices for pageant art didn't run. The safe choices did, not the more documentary ones. Darn.

OK...moving on.

Monday: Second day off and I decided to work on a freelance project for the BLM. Shooting scenics and such on the lands they manage. Traveling Companion and I headed for Rainbow Basin, an area of major geological significance and wonder. The sky was deep blue with a few puffy white clouds floating about. Absolutely perfect.

I was carrying just one bag and my rather newish EOS 1n. A splendid camera and I love it dearly! My hands were not very free, steadying the bag and camera.

On a slight incline, I slipped and slipped and fell and crunched. The bag landed first and me on top of it with the small end of the 300mm hitting me squarely in the left side of the chest. The rest of my left side hit the rocky surface and rather slid a bit. The EOS also landed on the rocks.

OH MY! The shock made me sick to my stomach but I managed to hold on to what was left of my dignity and my lunch. But oh man, did I hurt. After checking to see that nothing was broken, either on the camera or me we set off again - there was still a job to be done after all. But my confidence was greatly shaken. I hike and climb alone quite a bit and I kept thinking what if I had been alone and had twisted an ankle or worse, broken a leg. Every step I took after that was tentative and shaky. Damn, falling when I shouldn't have - sore and bruised body and ego. New EOS 1n has its first scrape. ARGGHH.

My thoughts: This shot was not used - Old Queens saying goodbye was used instead. This is by far the more visually interesting photo with oodles of subtext - at least I think so.

PHOTO CAPTION: Tiny Miss Barstow Destiny Smalls and Junior Miss Barstow Frances Theresa Hodges are among the several queens that were introduced to the crowd at the Miss Barstow Pageant on Saturday night.

My thoughts: BORING PICTURE!

PHOTO CAPTION Teen Miss Barstow 1997 Nicole Smith and Miss Barstow 1997 Katrena Carruthers wave goodbye to the crowd after their one-year reign comes to a conclusion at Saturday night's pageant.

It will take time for me to regain what I lost that day....my immortality.

Tuesday: I think Tuesday must have a been a total bore because I don't remember a thing about it!

Wednesday: Multiple tones on the scanner. Structure fire. All ears pricked up in the newsroom. I started picking up gear, reporter wrote down address. Copper City Road. Oh hell. At least 17 miles from Barstow out in the middle of the bloody cold desert in an area of broken down trailers and meth labs. Oh well, a fire is a fire even though the boys-in-yellow would probably have it out by the time we arrived...but again...maybe not.

The publisher was visiting that day and I practically mowed him down leaving the office. UhOh. Sorry dude, but a fire is a fire, doncha know?

We sped out, me trying to drive so that the reporter would not be sick, but those roads were twisting winding beasts.

The structure was fully involved when we arrived on scene- wow, real flames! I pulled as close as possible, said hi to the chief and started to work. I fired off a couple of shots and saw a scruffy-lookin' guy who I took to be the owner watering down things with a garden hose. I started towards him trying to introduce myself when he charged at me, screaming and yelling to not take pictures and to get the hell off his property.

Rather taken aback I said "Sure, no problem." and headed back to my car and the reporter. Then he demanded my camera and film. "Hmmmm", I said, "I don't think so." He proceeded to threaten me with all sorts of stuff, legal and otherwise. I calmly explained that since he demanded that we leave and we were leaving that was that.

My thoughts: This guy was absolutley serious about me NOT shooting his trashy trailer going up in flames. As he was running towards me I was able to get the camera to sorta autofocus for this one shot. Wish I had gotten part of his face but I was shooting from the hip literally, not at eye-level.

Then he wanted to do a citizen's arrest. At this point the reporter, not feeling very well after the drive and the smell of the smoke and being a pretty feisty woman, got pissed and told him to just call the cops - we would wait right there. (Uh, Jennifer, let's not do that.)

We drove off the property to more verbal abuse that amazed even me. This was the first time I had ever been threatened or kicked off property. I suppose I thought everyone was as civilized as the other folks that I had been involved with in similar situations. Usually we introduce ourselves, express condolences over their plight, explain what we need, they say fine and life goes on. We do our job. We stay out of the way. We are nice people. This was totally different.

After being told to leave I parked on the road, pulled out the LONG glass and kept shooting outside the property line - just trying to get a shot of firemen and flames.

I decided to walk into the vacant desert next to his back fence to get a better view. Now Mr. NiceGuy gets his dog and starts harassing me some more. Told me that 440 yards outside his fence line was still his property. "Oops", I said, "not posted, nor fenced. Sorry, you don't have a legal leg to stand on."

He asked me if I knew how much I was pissing him off. I calmly said, "Sir, I don't give a flying-f*ck how much I piss you off." And kept shooting.

I think I am pretty responsive to the feelings and emotions of victims, but this man's aggressive and violent behaviour set me off as soon as we arrived. I must admit, I felt no sympathy for him as I looked at the trash and garbage surrounding his children's play equipment and the bottle of tequila in his back pocket.

I was trying very hard NOT to show his home nor him until he sicced the dog on me. Yep. Took that mean-looking yaller thang; crossed into MY half of the desert and told the dog to "get her - do what you want."

Gulp. Dog aimed for my throat growling and barking. So I turned, aimed the camera at him and growed "Grrrrr" right back at him. He took off. I think the camera scared him. Whew!

I shot some more as the weather turned really nasty, hail and snow and me freezing to death. The owner moved into my frame and began flipping me off. Darn. Ran out of disk space in the camera. No shots of the big finger in my face.

Thursday: In more than 20 years of shooting in wild lands and towns I have never seen a rattlesnake on the loose, out of a cage, next to me. Oh, there were times when friends would say, "Be careful out there, this year is bad for snakes. Better take a 22." - and they weren't talking camera lenses.

But afterall this is the woman that boogies through the sagebrush yelling "Yo snakes" at the top of her lungs and thumping the ground with a tripod. Everybody who is anybody knows that snakes do much better at hearing than seeing and that they are more afraid of you than you of them and that if you make a lot of noise they will scurry away and hide. Right.

This particular day was a road trip with the environment/schools/history etc reporter. When things are slow we are encouraged to do in-depth features with lots of photos and hopefully with a news angle.

Thursday found us in Death Valley, way the heck and back off the beaten path at an old mining town called Ibex Springs. The local historical group had adopted the place and was trying to preserve it from the National Park Service...who has a bit of a history around here of demolishing similar sites.

Life was good. The weather nice. The site was very neat. After doing most of the interviews and shooting, David, the reporter and I, headed up to an old talc mine that I wanted to shoot. As I had on boots and he only tennis shoes I was in the lead climbing up the hill. We were just chatting, oh, about snakes and such and wondering if they were coming out of hibernation yet.

HELLYES!

In scanning the ground around my feet what did my wondering eyes behold, but a big snake and his tongue weaving in and out. No rattling though. Good sign yes? Not really. Rattlers don't always rattle a warning. Iscreamed "STOP! DON'T MOVE!" and stood like a oak rooted to the rocks. David calmly asked, "Why~~~~?" with a little tremor in his voice.

"Because there is a snake."

"Where?"

"Ok, see the shadow of my camera? Now, follow the lens towards me. See him?"

"OH. Yep. So, what do we do now?"

My thoughts: Ain't he cool!!!!! And close! PHOTO CAPTION Don't tread on me! A Panamint rattlesnake basks in the sun near Ibex Springs in Death Valley National Park.

"Uh, do I look like a snake expert here? Ok, ok, move away, to the left REAL SLOW. Snakes don't see well and they depend on fast movement to get their prey."

David moved away and I was still stuck in one spot. Way off balance because I had been on my toes when I saw the bloody reptile. Yo, David. Throw a rock. At the snake. Well, not AT the snake, but off to his right so that he will turn that way - away from Lara.

He threw and the snake blinked - maybe. I figured it was safe enough to move slowly away and tried to do so, but was off-balance enough that I had to jump. I just waited for the venomous vermin to take a chomp out of my leg.

I think he blinked again. Not terribly worried was that snake.

On solid ground again, I REALLY needed to scream but David wouldn't let me - said it would scare the tour leader a mile or so away. We looked about the mine, keeping our eyes open for more snakes and then decided to head back. Of course I had to get some photos first. Of the mine AND the snake. Afterall, he didn't seem to doing anything but basking in the sun. His blood was probably still a little too cold to do much more than lay on his front porch posing for my camera.

Friday: A day of peace and Passion Plays. Rather nice after the rest of the week.

Saturday: Easter Egg hunt for children and their pushing grabbing parents. Every man for himself. Take what you can grab. Grab what you can take. To the aggressors go the spoils. To the rest, empty plastic baskets.

I would rather face rattlesnakes.

My weekend rolled 'round once more. We hit the Mother Road. Rt 66 into Arizona chasing trains and wildflowers. Life is still grand.

Lara Hartley

"...second star to the right and straight on 'til morning..." Peter Pan

My thoughts: I like this shot. The emotions seem real and I especially like the white fingernails of the woman on the left. PHOTO CAPTION Kathy Pinneo rehearses her part as a woman that Jesus heals in Friday night's Love Crucified performed on Main Street. The Passion Play was presented by the non-denominational church, the Living Waters Fellowship with members of other churches included in the cast and two dancers from Los Angeles.