The first and only time I met Senator Kennedy...
When I first came back from my internship in York PA, I struggled with being a freelancer in DC. I tried getting work from the wire services. The nation was in the grip of a compelling presidential primary season. And I couldn’t find anything to latch onto as a photojournalist.
I wanted to trek out to Iowa, New Hampshire and South Carolina, but I came to the conclusion (via some helpful advice from other veteran photogs) that working close to home would be better. Force myself to work harder for good pictures. Nevermind I didn’t have the financial wherewithal to actually travel all over the place, there were plenty of pictures within 2 hours of DC.
I traveled to York, PA for the weekend prior to the PA democratic primaries. Hillary and Obama were campaigning hard in the blue-collar areas of the state. Having worked as an intern in York, I had some connections and knew I’d be able to make it to several events before the night of the primary.
Sen. Kennedy would be making an appearance at the Democratic Headquarters to stump for Obama in York, inside a tiny little office. As it turned out, one of the reporters from the York Dispatch, would be interviewing him afterward, and I begged to be allowed in the room to take a couple portraits of the Senator, during the interview. I promised I wouldn’t interrupt.
And that was one of my first lessons in why it’s important to know people and be friendly. There I was, the only photographer in the room with the Senator, answering questions from a local reporter. I know his photograph has been taken millions of times, but this time I truly felt as if I was somehow on the inside. I set up my 4x5 and sat next to Victoria, his wife, and popped off a couple frames.
She half joked that she expected a poof of smoke to rise in the air as I took the pictures. Not quite, I laughed. But I certainly have to say that I’m glad I took pictures with the film camera instead of the digicam. I think the picture looks a little more timeless, that way.
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