very fine picture, possibly ihe best on
the roll.
Above, on tbe first do? of «hooting, »he NBC
сотою
ond wund technician ore following young Robert on
о
photo tour of the form Below right, the youngitcr hot poted Bob Dolton, NBC Today Show eorretpondent in
о
wet tondboa. ond ihe NBC crew, oher completing a doy't thootmg, itop tocompore notes They ore (I to r)
Bert Medley, NBC field producer, Rob Kone, tound techmcion, Alon Sleeker, comeromon. ond Bob Dolton,
network eorretpondent (photot by Robert L Williams)
The Youngest
Photographer
Wh«»r<*in our rolucliinl urilordH'Idos
if llu* storv is £uud «‘nou»li for ABC'. il
on» III lo bo in STATE
By BOBEBT I.. U Mil VMS
Anyone who writes a considerable
amount, as I try to Jo. finds sooner or
later a story that he aches, yearns, and
dreads to try to tell He is afraid to try
to write it himself and terrified to turn it
over to someone else. He develops all
kinds of phobias: he starts to fear pub¬
lic response, to live with trepidation, to
second-guess every move or thought.
It hit me on September 17. 19X0. for
the first time, and it set in again when I
slipped this sheet of paper into my
typewriter. It will probably devastate
me anew each time I try to write it.
»
r
to think about writing it. I can’t win. If
I tell the complete, total, unvarnished
truth. I am a braggart and even a liar: if
1 tell less than the truth, there is no
story to tell.
Confused? So am I. It all started one
year ago. when our son. Robert III.
was two years and eleven monthsold. I
had just completed a history book and
the editors wanted a photo of me for
the dust jacket. So rather than pay
someone to take the photo. I asked my
wife Elizabeth to do it for me.
And that's when it began to form —
this problem, this phobia, the love-
dread relationship, this story.
Because as my wife started to snap
the shutter, our two-year and eleven-
month old son asked if he could take
daddy's picture. Mv wife turned the
camera over to him and he clicked the
shutter, after a little coaching, and my
wife completed the job. When I de¬
veloped the film later that day I was
surprised — and delighted — to see
that my son's snapshot was in fact a
Publishable
On a whim — admittedly a self-
indulgent. paternally proud whim — I
submitted the photo to the book com¬
pany. and to my added surprise — and
delight — the editors liked the photo
and decided to use it on the dust jacket.
So our son. not quite three, became
perhaps the youngest published
photographer in the country. We don't
know this, but it's a great possibility.
I showed the same photo to the
yearbook faculty advisor at Gaston
College in Dallas, where I am profes¬
sor of English and writer in residence,
and he was so impressed with the
photo that he asked if he might use it
instead of the one the professional
photographer had taken earlier.
So the lad had two publications
ready to use his photo.
But this is nothing to brag about —
right? My wife had the camera already
set and all the kid had to do was snap
the shutter and hold the camera
straight. Right?
That's what we thought, and to
prove the point we let Robert play with
the camera again, this time without the
THE STATE, October 1980
24
