As a young Freelancer fresh off the plane from Australia, I went to LIFE magazine  to show them my tear sheets.  One of the Picture Editors scanned through and was interrupted by a phone call, "No", he said " I don't have anyone available", he paused, turned to me, "Have you ever photographed baseball?"  "No" , I replied. "Good", he said, "A fresh eye,  here is the address...."  My first job in New York for LIFE magazine. Wow!

My baseball pictures never made the magazine.  But a month later, in London,  LIFE assigned me to cover the British trials for the America's Cup,  off the Isle of Wight in the English channel. This time two tiny pictures did make the magazine. Whow !

 

SCOOP!

June 1955, winter in Australia, cold and wet, hikers had become lost in the Baw Baw mountains in Victoria. I drove to the search area and I was  luckily the only photographer there when they were brought out of the bush.  I quickly drove back to Melbourne and sold the pictures to The Sun newspaper.  

 

Right place, right time!

I was paid the grand sum of 150  Australian pounds for the negatives, and the images were syndicated across the country.  This opened a lot of doors and I was offered a full time position as a graded photographer on the Adelaide News, at the age of 19.

Right place, Right time. 

 The News, Adelaide, South Australia.

The newspaper that started Rupert Murdoch on his long journey. It was also the start of a long journey for me. 

The experience was wide and varied. The News was ( it no longer exists) an afternoon paper. We covered everything from murders to bush fires to weddings and those weather pictures. 

The theatricals came by over night train from Melbourne. Others like Johnny Ray and Nat King Cole flew in, often to huge welcoming crowds.

Miss Marple where were you?

These were the days of the trusty 1/4 plate Speed Graphic cameras.

We developed our own film and printed it. Then prints in hand we would take them to the Picture Editor, who would cast his eye over them, if he liked them he would grunt, if he didn't  then he'd  toss them in the waste bin and say nothing. It was also the time that news photographers were at the bottom of the pecking order and seldom got a by-line. 

After two years I was fired, I was doing too much Freelance magazine work and the other photographers prefer the pub at end of shift. I hitchhiked to Sydney on a interstate truck, writing and photographing a story on drivers who took drugs to keep a schedule demanded by their bosses.