The Salad Days of Immortality
Jun 14, 2021 20:18:35 #
I was the photographer for a local volunteer rescue squad in 1968-1969. In the days before EMS, river rescue, etc., volunteer rescue squads used their own boats and diving equipment when dragging the Ohio River for drowning victims, etc. A friend at work asked me if I would become their official photographer. The "job" title was for publicity shots, publications in the quarterly magazine, and photograph actual rescues. My badge usually got me behind the ropes, and I shot a lot of black and white, even providing photos for the coroner.
On May 5, 1969, the Bronoco Chemical Company had a catastrophic explosion about a mile west of downtown Louisville. My wife and I lived nearby, so when the apartment glass rattled, I grabbed my camera and headed toward the conflagration. I had to park my car about two blocks away, and I managed to get within a half-block before the heat made it necessary to stop. I managed to get three frames before the police intervened. I showed my badge and ID, but they were having none of that, and I had to move to safety. At the time, I was awestruck by the violence of the exploding storage tank tops, which came off like soda pop caps. The contents in the tanks were unknown, even for a few days after the fire was put down. It took the fire department over 24 hours to completely tame the fire. The police and fire set up a six-block no-entry radius, and at that distance one could only see the tops of the flames and the sky's glow.
My camera was a Petri FT, with a Vivitar 135mm f/3.5 preset lens, and the film was Ektachrome 64.
On May 5, 1969, the Bronoco Chemical Company had a catastrophic explosion about a mile west of downtown Louisville. My wife and I lived nearby, so when the apartment glass rattled, I grabbed my camera and headed toward the conflagration. I had to park my car about two blocks away, and I managed to get within a half-block before the heat made it necessary to stop. I managed to get three frames before the police intervened. I showed my badge and ID, but they were having none of that, and I had to move to safety. At the time, I was awestruck by the violence of the exploding storage tank tops, which came off like soda pop caps. The contents in the tanks were unknown, even for a few days after the fire was put down. It took the fire department over 24 hours to completely tame the fire. The police and fire set up a six-block no-entry radius, and at that distance one could only see the tops of the flames and the sky's glow.
My camera was a Petri FT, with a Vivitar 135mm f/3.5 preset lens, and the film was Ektachrome 64.
Jun 14, 2021 20:28:26 #
pendennis wrote:
I was the photographer for a local volunteer rescu... (show quote)
You did great Dennis as a volunteer photographer. Very proud of you.Stan
Jun 14, 2021 21:05:06 #
Paul Diamond
Loc: Atlanta, GA, USA
Really appreciate your picture and your commentary. One of my former employees became the crime scene photographer for the NY county where I lived. It's a tough job. You see things you want to forget - and can't. Thanks for sharing.
Jun 15, 2021 00:13:28 #
pendennis wrote:
I was the photographer for a local volunteer rescu... (show quote)
Having seen the results of POL Tank Farms cooking off in Nam and the experience of seeing a few bunkers full of military grade explosives/bombs/shells etc. going up 1/2 mile away (Thank God there was a low hill between us and the exploding ammo dump.) I would say the cops had the right idea, stay away. If it hadn't been in a built up area the FD would have probably done what the US and ARVN army fire units did - let it go until the explosions were done before moving in to put things out.
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