Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Another anniversary...

 The date - November 22 - brings sad memories of President John F. Kennedy.

My actual vivid recollection was in downtown San Diego when Senator Kennedy came to California, campaigning for the highest office.

It was 1960 and I was a 21-year old former Marine Corps photographer who had just started as an older freshman at the University of San Diego.

Some buddies and I skipped classes and went downtown to see this young candidate.

Of course, I had a camera with me and stood at the back of the large crowd that had turned out in this basically Republican city.

A few months before, I was at Camp Lejeune, N.C. as a Corporal E-4, trying on my new civvies before my discharge and heading home to Charleston.

USD had offered me a photography scholarship and I jumped at the chance to be the first one in my family to attend college!

As a designated Marine Combat Photographer, I was not shy about moving up through the crowd to get closer to the candidate.

I've told this story before that I looked up at a policeman on the raised platform and held up my camera.

I told him I was the official photographer from the University of San Diego and wanted to be up there for better photos.

He had no problem with that and gave me a hand up.

I was now standing on the end of the platform with a great view of the crowd, the dignitaries, and the candidate himself.

Waited until he stretched out his left arm to make a point and turned his body and face in my direction.

"Click."

As he finished his speech, Senator Kennedy was applauded and I hopped down to street level to photograph him coming down the steps, shaking hands. Got a few more photos as someone threw confetti.
As I said, I was a newcomer to San Diego, trying to adjust my military mind to civilian activities.

I recall I was wearing my USD windbreaker that day which no doubt helped the police officer decide I was not a threat.

Back on campus, I watched the candidate's debate and generally was in tune with supporting the Catholic candidate. 

I mean, it was an 11-year old Catholic University and I was an eligible voter. There was a separate College For Men and a College for Women with the beautiful Immaculata Chapel situated between the two.

The year after I graduated, the colleges combined and it was a true University, also with a School of Law, and a large seminary.

With my photography background, I started to visit the downtown newspaper, the Union-Tribune and made sure to stop in the Photo Lab to chat with the staffers there. And the boss.

About a year later, I was hired to be a lab tech and wire photo operator. 

After six months working inside the lab, I was sent out on assignments and became a staff photographer.

In 1963 I was part of a team dispersed around San Diego to cover the arrival of President Kennedy.

He was to receive an honorary degree from San Diego State and be the commencement speaker.

With Secret Service approval and our newspaper credentials, we photographers and reporters swarmed all over State's campus and along the route of the Presidential motorcade in and out of the city.

I had a plum assignment.

Here I was again, on the left side of JFK, using a long lens to capture the moment and the happy June graduation crowd.

The President flew to Dallas five months later.

As I said, I have posted my photos of the candidate and, later, the President on my blog before.

I'll probably share them again in the future.

(Click on the photos for more details.)

Thanks for sharing these memories.



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posted by chuckography @ 7:34 PM 0 Comments

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Memorial Day...a Marine 56 years later.

 Memorial Day is tomorrow.

A day when we honor those who gave their lives while serving in the military.

I joined the Marines right after graduating from Bishop England high school in 1957.

Had no interest in any "more school" and joined the USMC to be one-up on my older brother who was wearing USAF blue.

Back then you could sign up for six months of active duty and then remain in the Reserves for 7.5 years, subject to call up.

Boot Camp at Parris Island (in July and August!) was sweaty but went ok.

Then advanced infantry training up at Camp Lejeune, NC felt comfortable.

All Marines are basically infantry.
I was lucky enough to be designated as a Combat Photographer (MOS 4641).

This just happened to be during a very peaceful time.

It was so good to be attached to the Base Photo Lab, Support Company B, Headquarters Battalion, that I re-enlisted for three years.

This also eliminated the many years of the Reserve requirement.

But, instead of combat, I was basically doing PR.

Snapping photos of Command Changes and medals being pinned on Marines.

Sometimes a funny thing would happen and I was there with my USMC-issued Speed Graphic.

Life was comfortable but I was getting antsy to do something more than covering parades and "grip & grins."

I wanted to be out in the field for more than a few hours with eager Reservists who came to LeJeune for two weeks of annual active duty training.

I was not involved in the 1958 invasion of Lebanon and heard the stories that the amphibious landing was greeted by bikini-clad bathers and soda pop vendors. Actually, though, some Marines were killed.

I finally got my chance to get away from the parade field and starched khakis late in 1959.

I volunteered to be assigned to a Tank Battalion as its photographer for several months.

I cruised for 7-days with them down to Vieques, a Navy-owned "training" island off the coast of Puerto Rico.

We did a pre-dawn landing, climbing down cargo nets into small landing crafts that zig-zagged toward the beach.

We set up tents as our sleeping quarters and I finally was in the field, training with an armoured aggressor force.

Dust, dirt and booming tank cannons were the everyday norm.

This was far from the spick and span Base Photo Lab.

There we sometimes spent hours, experimenting with posing and lighting formal portraits.

This was eating rations in the field and taking photos as dedicated tankers performed a variety of tests and maneuvers.

Instead of a prim uniform hat or cap, I now was getting used to wearing a steel pot, a camouflaged helmet.

And, smoking a lot of cigarettes, which were very inexpensive in Vieques.

Also, being pleased to see beer was ten cents a can and five rum & Cokes were made with just one 8-oz classic Coca-Cola.

Work hard and play even harder.

I learned from my fellow tankers that when someone didn't make the grade, training in endless-track machines, they were reassigned to become Tank Killers.

Proving the Marine Corps had a sense of humor, both groups frequented the same bar on base.

Yes, the MPs had to break up many discussions on the merits and safety of tanks.

Looking back a half century, I realize that if I had stayed with the 7.5 years in the Reserves, I might have been called up to active duty in the Vietnam war.

(Click on the photos and links for details.)

My time in the Corps convinced me that college was a good idea.








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posted by chuckography @ 11:56 AM 0 Comments