Wednesday, September 2, 2009

It was worth the broken lens

Covering the funeral of John Kennedy

When Senator Edward M. Kennedy was laid to rest alongside his slain brothers, John and Robert, at Arlington National Cemetery on Saturday evening, we all witnessed the end of an era. Kennedy had served for 47 years in the Senate. Some say he was the last of the great liberals. For me his passing took me back 46 years. Edward Kennedy was just finishing his first year as a Senator when his brother John was assassinated.

Look magazine photographer Arthur Rothstein asked me to assist him when he covered the funeral of John Kennedy. Monday, November 25, 1963 was a sad day in America. However, while most of the nation mourned the passing of a great president, it was a moment that would change my life. On the way to Washington Arthur, told me that I could take pictures and said that he had arranged for me to have press tags so that I could move around. ‘Take as many pictures as you can of people grieving’ he told me. I was still a kid and the great gravity of the day was not completely clear to me; all I knew was that this was my chance if I could only make some good pictures.  

I found it hard to move around at first. There were hundreds of photographers and reporters working the event. Many had gotten there early an picked out what they thought would be a good spot to cover the event. Never having worked an event like this, I kept moving around shooting over the shoulders or under the legs of other photographers. More than once I was told to move because I was blocking someone’s shot. I didn’t care-- I just wanted to take pictures. I knew that the service was taking place at St. Matthews Cathedral. St Matthews is about four blocks from the White House so I worked my way to a spot just across the street.  With Arthur’s words fixed in my mind, I shot pictures of grief--crying faces, people holding hands. But somehow I knew that the honor guard who would take the coffin to the Arlington National Cemetery was the key to something good. I figured that if I kept an eye on them I might be able to get a good picture of the family.

The private service at St. Matthews lasted over an hour. A reviewing stand had been set up across the street from the church. Seeing an empty spot on the top row, I climbed up the outside of the scaffold like structure just as the coffin was being taken from the church. Luck was on my side that day. It was a perfect spot.  Before I left for Washington with Arthur my father had helped me buy a preset 200mm lens. Thinking I might need it to take close-ups. I had been having trouble focusing the lens stopped down so I left it wide open. My pictures would all be over exposed but at least they would be sharp.  I lifted my new 200mm to my eye just as Jackie Kennedy leaned over to John-John and whispered something in his ear. John-John looked at his father’s coffin and made a crisp salute as the coffin departed. I had my picture. A moment later I was pulled from the stand by a member of the Secret Service. I fell about 10 feet to the ground and landed on my new lens, cracking the front element.

            While there were thousands of pictures made that day, I feel that my picture was one of the best. It took me awhile to make a good print from the over-exposed negative and as a result my image was not among the first wave of pictures to run. But when it did it became one of the most widely used. The over-exposure gave me a great deal of detail in the dark areas of the picture. Jackie’s face was a portrait of stoic grief rendered in a haunting way that captured her sorrow.

Luck – and the fearlessness of youth – were on my side that day. It was worth the broken lens.

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