And so it began.

My very first day on the job at the Culpeper Star-Exponent i found that my duties included photos for the two section fronts, all the sports images as well at all the photographs used in advertising. The advertising photos comprised of group shots of business owners, store front drive bys and an endless parade of used and new cars for sale. Everything had a deadline and everything was shot on b&w film which was processed in a closet and printed by hand in a bathroom in the basement of the newspaper building. Every head shot, every house for sale, every price-to-sale late model Chrysler or Oldsmobile, every pet-of-the-week from the local SPCA, every check passing, every ribbon cutting, every photograph that appeared in the paper every single day had to be created by me...all by deadline.

This may have been fine except for the fact that i had completely forgotten how to process and print black and white. Heck, i hadn't even taken a photograph in six years.

It was my very first day on the job and i was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed.

After digging through some boxes, i found my old college bible, the Kodak Black & White Darkroom Dataguide 7th edition, published 1980. Salvation.
It was Friday and I would not officially begin until Monday. I had the weekend to retrain myself.

When Monday morning arrived i realized that i was in way over my head, but maybe if i could tread water long enough i could find my way to shore...or at least a sand bar.

That morning was filled with meeting people at the paper, meeting people in the community and lots and lots of used cars to photograph. I was told that my monthly budget was $500 and I had to buy all my supplies, film and paper and chemistry out of that. As i figured it, I was limited to about 54 exposures per day. Thank God i didn't own a motor drive.

Early that afternoon i was given a police scanner and was told that i would be responsible for breaking news 24/7. Before my jaw could hit the floor, a report of a shooting on the highway south of town came across the fire/rescue channel. I grabbed my gear and took off like a rocket in hopes of being the first media on the scene. Forty-five minutes later, as i made my way up a mountainous incline, i realized that i had driven the wrong direction and was 30 miles north of where the media was gathering to report on a witness for a trial in a neighboring county who was shot dead on their way to court and as i listened to the reports on the radio i felt sick to my stomach.
ooops.

As i pondered possible excuses i found myself rolling up on a gathering of fire and rescue vehicles lining the breakdown lane near the top of the mountain. It seemed that a hour before, a tractor trailer had broken through the guardrail and tumbled down the mountainside. They were just beginning to make the rescue and were lowering down the "jaws of life" to the cab where the driver was waiting in an up-side-down position. I scurried down the mountainside with everyone else, not even asking to be there and, to my surprise, i was not asked to leave. It was as if i belonged there, documenting an amazing rescue effort. I felt invisible. I felt privileged. I felt as if all my voyeuristic tendencies had been given the freedom to soar. The driver had a broken foot and a few scratches. A few firemen gave me their addresses in hopes of getting copies of the photos. I even helped carry some equipment back up the slope for the rescue squad.

Later that afternoon i came clean with my editor. The shooting was the lead story. AP called asking for any images from shooting, but i had to tell them that i had none. The tractor trailer accident occurred just north of the county line and ended up buried inside. This is the photo that ran.

My day began just after 7am and ended after 11pm. It would be the first day of a new life for me. A life filled with long hours, little pay and a lifetime of memories.