I enjoyed Jerry Windle’s reprise of various camera memories from the old days. I never did carry a Yashicamat for the paper, although I did own one. I bought it from the AP staffer after I sold my own Rolleiflex to buy a sub-miniature Tessina from Stan Griffin. Several of the photogs had Rolleis at the time but then Stan bought the petite and delicate Mamiyaflex as the camera du jour for the whole staff!!! That was a twin lens monster! They were bigger and heavier than a Remington standard typewriter and had interchangeable lenses the size of two sewer pipes. They did make good negatives though.

I used my shiny new Mamiyaflex C33 the time I was assigned to shoot Governor Reagan (in the photographic sense) when he was running for president. The Copley power structure had made arrangements for me to ease past all the security and get an exclusive photo at the event. The press corps was sequestered on a little patio outside someone’s La Jolla mansion and were told there would be no photos!. When the moment arrived, I was whisked into a parlor where Regan and a couple of the Republican faithful, one was a judge as I recall, were to pose exclusively for me... well, OK... for the Copley Press. I lined everyone up in a ‘natural’ pose and prepared to take the photos. I was convinced that each would undoubtedly be worthy of the Pullet Surprise. I pushed on the shutter... and nothing happened! That will get your attention! “OK, once more now....” Nothing! The shutter lever on my new camera would not move and I could not take the picture. By the third effort, I was developing a serious aneurism and the Governor cum President was getting more than a bit peeved as he stood with his best campaign smile pasted on, glaring at me and waiting! Panic was infusing my fevered brain when I noticed the safety-interlock lever on the side of the camera. It was a little knob that prevented the film from being exposed while the lenses were off. It also locked the shutter when engaged and it was doing its job admirably on this occasion! I don’t recall ever hearing such a sweet sound as when that shutter clunked the way it was supposed to. I got a magnificent photo of the three dignitaries and slunk off into the night to nurse my seriously battered ego.

Another time I used Phil McMahan’s Leica. Now THAT was a camera you could learn to love. I recall that Beverly Beyette was doing an investigative piece that turned into a series on nursing homes for the elderly. Beverly was pretending to be looking for a home for her aged mother and I was her ne’er do well brother, I think. I was supposed to get photos without anyone knowing what we were doing. I know this sounds like it came right out of an old James Cagney movie “The Picture Snatcher” , but I borrowed Phil’s Leica, hung it around my neck under my shirt with just the lens sticking out between the buttons. I could then move my ultra-wide, psychedelic tie aside (remember those?) and take pictures. The plan worked. Beverly would talk to the nursing home person about taking care of dear old Mother, to keep them busy, and I would try to wander aimlessly off to get the photos. The Leica was compact and so quiet you couldn’t hear the shutter if you were standing next to me. I took several by just turning away from the person. We got dramatic photos of conditions inside some pretty nasty “care” facilities. The paper ran the series and later, Copley Press published it in a booklet. As I recall, there was a major shakeup in the requirements and oversight of California care facilities as a result.