I grew up with Kathy Stackpole, Peter’s daughter, in CT. Since Peter died in 1997 it had to be more then a decade ago.Originally Posted by Willie
I grew up with Kathy Stackpole, Peter’s daughter, in CT. Since Peter died in 1997 it had to be more then a decade ago.
The Oakland fire was by far the worst in terms of loss of life due to all the narrow winding roads. People couldn't get out and fire fighters couldn't get in. And the brand new fire chief from back East had never dealt with what was essentially an urban forest fire (in eucalyptus stands). I was heavily involved in the rebuilding phase, which gives me darn little confidence in the integrity of certain insurance companies.
Yes, it was October of 1991. The fire came within two blocks of our home in the Oakland Hills. Peter's house was five blocks from us and one of the first to burn after the fire jumped Highway 24. He gathered up what he could from the darkroom and loaded two cars; one would not start. It is a day etched in my memory, always thankful for the good fortune to return to a standing house several days after evacuation. Three thousand homes were destroyed, and twenty-five lives lost.
Peter never really recovered. His wife, Hebe, lost about fifty of her fine paintings and died suddenly on the second anniversary of the fire. The last time I saw Peter was at a nearby photo-swap, rebuilding his life and a new darkroom across the Bay. He died a short time later at the age of 83.
But since he was one of the original 4 Life photographers and since he worked for them so long, all of his negatives from that period were at Life magazine and were not destroyed.
In the 80s the Chairman of Time Life was retiring and the magazine wanted to present him with an album of the best photos from the first 50 years of Life Magazine. The prints were 11x14” printed from the original negatives. As I had an Ademco press they hired me to mount them back to back and laminate them with the Ademco overlay. They had me make 2 sets. One for the Chairman and the other for their archives. At the time Ralph Morse lived near me and he was the delivery boy for the prints from the lab and for my finished, mounted and laminated prints. As I grew up in Darien, CT where both Peter Stackpole and Margret Bourne White also lived, it was quite an experience handling and mounting prints from Peter’s, Bourke White, Morse and Eisenstaedt, among others!
When I delivered the last batch of prints to the magazine I got to show them to Eisenstaedt. And, while I had my studio I took some of the last pictures of Bourke White at her home for the local paper!
Rome continues to burn while Nero continues to fiddle (or at least Tweet that it's all a hoax). Nearly the entire global northern hemisphere is currently in record heat and high fire risk. Even here on the coast where it is cool, the fog today turned brown and smelly. Now a new fire in the wine country due north, or actually closer to Clear Lk.
That's an interesting slice of history, Bob; you met some icons of photo journalism for sure.
I first met Peter at his home in Darien in 1959. He retired the next year from Life Magazine and moved back to his birthplace, building a home next to his old family home in Oakland. When the fire came, a large number of his prints were stored at the Oakland Museum in anticipation of a huge retrospective exhibit scheduled for early in 1992. That was a small bit of good news.
Darien, Stamford, New Canan, Greenwich and Westport was a very interesting place to grow up. It was amazing who I got to meet and later photographer. Everyone from a very young Dorthy Hammil going to her first Olympics to Bud Collier to authors like Evan Hunter and Harold Robbins to Jackie Robinson and Tom Seaver! Unfortunately I never asked for autographs!
You were right not to ask for autographs. Colleagues and friends not to be taken advantage of. Different times when getting an autograph was not thought of as a money making venture as it is now with so many.
My Uncle tells me of one experience when he was younger and met Alfred Eisenstaedt - while on a photo assignment. Eisenstaedt approached and introduced himself as my Uncle was photographing for a small newspaper - and offered a suggestion as to the proper way to hold a camera. Helpful and friendly - and my Uncle knew the name as well as the face. Said it was a lesson he never forgot with his 35mm news gear and one that worked.
Fire, volcano and disasters hit hard and at times with little or no warning. In our area it is tornadoes, straight line winds, lightning strikes and maybe Hail big enough to punch holes in the roof of buildings. Could get prairie fires but with so much farming it is unlikely. Still folks here who lived through "The Dirty 30's" and can see some old fences that disappear into drifting dirt. At first one thinks it is odd a fence would be built like that til someone explains the hill is drifted in from the Dust Bowl days - and covers more than an old fence line.
Good luck to those in the disaster zones. Hope all turns out as well as possible, your places are missed by the fires and damage and your health does not suffer from all the smoke and junk in the air.
” Never attribute to inspiration that which can be adequately explained by delusion”.
Most of those homes were a literal fire trap with many so completely covered with vines and foliage that you wouldn't know a house was in there until you were at the front door. I imagine that was to protect from the direct sunlight and wind which they found objectional and, or, from direct visibility by anyone with optical aid on the west side of the bay. A lot of weird people lived in that jungle above Oakland.Yes, it was October of 1991. The fire came within two blocks of our home in the Oakland Hills. Peter's house was five blocks from us and one of the first to burn after the fire jumped Highway 24. He gathered up what he could from the darkroom and loaded two cars; one would not start. It is a day etched in my memory, always thankful for the good fortune to return to a standing house several days after evacuation. Three thousand homes were destroyed, and twenty-five lives lost.
Thomas
I wouldn't call it a jungle - not quite as damp as the the hills directly above Berkeley. The dead eucalyptus trees were my worst fear. Even live ones burn like crazy. I was up there assessing certain architectural issues plus color consulting. A very wealthy couple with an art collection worth several millions of dollars lived directly across the street from the vacant lot where the fire began. A smaller grass fire had already transpired a few months prior in that same spot. I remember distinctly warning them of the risk. But the city did nothing in terms of dead tree removal. That house was one of the first to go, along with their entire art collection. At least they got out alive.
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